The first sign that planning a wedding with the Gaang was a terrible idea came when Toph accidentally punched a hole through the courtyard wall while trying to demonstrate where the flower arch should go.
Y/N stared at the crumbling stone, then at Toph, who crossed her arms proudly.
"What?" Toph said. "Now you've got a better view."
Y/N pressed two fingers to her temple and took a slow breath. From somewhere behind her came Sokka's delighted gasp.
"She's right! We could save on decorations if we just knock down the whole wall."
"Do not encourage her," Katara said immediately.
Y/N turned her head just in time to see Zuko walking into the courtyard carrying a stack of scrolls. His expression shifted from calm concentration to resigned exhaustion the moment he saw the damage.
"What happened?"
Toph pointed at the wall. "Improvement."
Zuko looked at Y/N.
Y/N looked at Zuko.
Neither of them spoke for a full three seconds.
Then they both started laughing.
That was the strange thing about being engaged to Zuko. Years ago, Y/N had imagined the Fire Lord as intense, disciplined, and constantly burdened by responsibility. He was all of those things, but he was also unexpectedly easy to laugh with. Especially when chaos erupted around them.
And chaos followed their friends like Appa followed food.
Aang descended from the sky a moment later on his glider, landing lightly beside the broken wall. "Hey, everyone! Sorry I'm late—oh. Is this part of the wedding?"
Sokka grinned. "It is now."
Katara threw a cushion at him.
Y/N watched them all with a warmth that settled deep in her chest. The courtyard of the Jasmine Dragon had become their unofficial planning headquarters over the last two weeks. Iroh insisted that no important life decision should be made without tea, and apparently wedding planning counted as a national emergency.
Which, considering the number of arguments they had already had about seating arrangements, was not entirely inaccurate.
Zuko set the scrolls down on the table and moved to Y/N's side. His shoulder brushed hers, familiar and grounding.
"I brought the guest list from the palace," he said quietly.
Y/N glanced at the thick stack. "That looks longer than the last one."
"It is."
She gave him a flat look.
"The Earth King added delegates," he admitted.
"Of course he did."
"And my council added several noble families."
Y/N closed her eyes briefly. "Zuko."
"I know."
His voice was soft with apology, and when she looked up, she found him watching her with that same earnest expression that had undone her from the beginning. The scar on his left eye caught the afternoon light, no longer something he tried to hide.
Y/N reached for his hand under the table and squeezed it.
"We'll figure it out."
Across from them, Sokka leaned forward dramatically. "As the group's foremost wedding expert—"
"You've never been married," Katara interrupted.
"—I think the solution is obvious. Cut the nobles, keep the people who bring good food."
Toph nodded approvingly. "Finally, someone is making sense."
Aang tilted his head. "Can't we just have two celebrations? One official and one with friends?"
The table went quiet.
Y/N blinked.
Zuko blinked.
Then they looked at each other at the exact same moment.
"That's actually..." Y/N began.
"...a really good idea," Zuko finished.
Aang brightened. "Really?"
Sokka looked offended. "Why does Twinkletoes get credit when I've been solving problems all day?"
"Because your solution involved bribery," Katara said.
"Bribery is a valid political strategy."
"Not for a wedding."
Iroh appeared beside the table carrying a tray of tea as if summoned by the word political.
"Ah," he said serenely, "the two subjects that cause the most conflict in the world: politics and weddings."
He poured tea for everyone with practiced grace.
Y/N accepted her cup and let the jasmine scent calm her nerves. "A smaller ceremony with our friends," she said slowly, thinking aloud. "And a larger celebration for the nations."
Zuko nodded. "
The idea of two weddings should have solved everything.
Instead, it started a war.
"Absolutely not," Zuko said for the third time that evening.
Y/N sat beside him on the floor of the Jasmine Dragon, surrounded by discarded invitation drafts, ribbon samples, and at least four empty tea pots. The others had spread out around the room in various states of helpfulness.
Toph was asleep against Appa's saddle.
Sokka was drawing increasingly elaborate seating charts that appeared to involve tactical formations.
Katara was trying to organise the flower budget.
Aang was attempting to mediate between everyone despite the fact that nobody had actually asked him to.
Y/N looked at Zuko. "Why not?"
"Because if we have an official ceremony and a private ceremony, my council will treat the private one as the real wedding and the official one as a political performance."
Sokka looked up from his chart. "Isn't that exactly what it is?"
Zuko pointed at him. "This is why you're not in charge."
"I should be in charge," Sokka muttered.
"You're currently seating the musicians according to battle effectiveness."
"That's called strategy."
Y/N laughed into her sleeve, and Zuko's expression softened immediately.
He always did that—melted a little when she laughed, as if some part of him still couldn't believe he was allowed to be happy.
It made her chest ache in the best way.
Katara set down a bundle of sample flowers. "What if we keep one ceremony but make the reception private? The official part satisfies the council, and the celebration is for the people who actually matter."
Aang brightened. "That sounds balanced."
Toph opened one eye. "Boring, but balanced."
Zuko considered it. Y/N could practically see the Fire Lord and the fiancé arguing behind his eyes.
Finally he sighed. "That might work."
Sokka raised a hand. "I'd like the record to show that my food-based solution was ignored."
"It was heard," Katara said. "It was simply terrible."
"History will vindicate me."
Iroh emerged from the kitchen carrying a fresh tray of tea. "In my experience, history rarely vindicates people who organise weddings like military campaigns."
Sokka looked deeply offended.
Iroh set a cup in front of Y/N and another in front of Zuko. His smile was gentle, but his eyes were knowing.
"You two have been discussing guests for three hours," he said. "Have you discussed what you want?"
Silence settled over the room.
Y/N blinked.
Beside her, Zuko looked equally startled.
Because somehow, in the middle of budgets, politics, flowers, and diplomatic expectations, they hadn't.
Not really.
Everyone else seemed to realise it at the same moment.
Katara quietly gathered the flower samples.
Aang stood up and stretched. "We should probably give them some space."
Toph yawned. "Finally."
Sokka hesitated. "What if they make bad decisions without me?"
"You'll survive," Katara said, dragging him toward the door.
"I'm the backbone of this operation!"
"You're the problem with this operation."
Their voices faded down the corridor, followed by Toph's laughter and Aang's attempt to keep everyone from arguing on the stairs.
The Jasmine Dragon became suddenly, wonderfully quiet.
Y/N wrapped her hands around her tea cup and stared at the steam.
"What do you want?" she asked softly.
Zuko didn't answer immediately.
He looked out through the open courtyard where lantern light flickered against the broken wall Toph had created earlier.
"When I was younger," he said, "I thought my wedding would be another duty. A treaty. An alliance. Something arranged for the Fire Nation."
Y/N listened without interrupting.
"Then I met you." His voice was quieter now. "And for the first time, I wanted the wedding for myself."
The words settled over her like warm sunlight.
Zuko rarely spoke about his feelings directly. He showed them in actions: in the way he remembered how she took her tea, in the way he stood slightly closer when crowds became overwhelming, in the way he looked for her first whenever he entered a room.
Hearing the words aloud felt precious.
Y/N set down her cup.
"I don't care about perfect decorations," she admitted. "Or noble families. Or whether the ceremony impresses ambassadors."
Zuko turned to face her fully.
"I want to walk toward you," she said, "and know that everyone there is someone who helped us become who we are."
For a moment he simply looked at her.
Then he reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear with surprising tenderness.
"That sounds perfect."
Y/N smiled, but emotion caught unexpectedly in her throat.
The truth was, planning the wedding had frightened her more than she wanted to admit.
Not because of Zuko.
Because of what came with him.
The palace. The expectations. The endless attention. Becoming the wife of the Fire Lord meant becoming part of history, and some days that felt far too large for one person.
As if sensing her thoughts, Zuko asked, "What are you worried about?"
She hesitated.
"Losing us."
His brow furrowed.
"I know that sounds dramatic."
"It sounds honest."
Y/N looked down at their joined hands.
"Everything around you is so big," she whispered. "The nation, the palace, the responsibility. I'm afraid that one day we'll wake up and realise we've become symbols instead of people."
Zuko was very still.
When he spoke, his voice carried a certainty that made her look up.
"That won't happen."
"How can you know?"
"Because I spent most of my life being treated as a symbol." His thumb brushed across her knuckles. "An heir. A failure. A prince. A Fire Lord. You're the first person who consistently treats me like Zuko."
Her eyes stung unexpectedly.
"And if I ever start forgetting that," he continued, "I have several terrifying friends who will probably throw me into a fountain."
A laugh escaped her through the tears.
"Toph definitely would."
"She'd enjoy it."
"She'd charge admission."
Zuko smiled, and the last of the tension in Y/N's chest loosened.
They sat together in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the distant sounds of their friends arguing somewhere outside.
Eventually Y/N leaned her head against his shoulder.
"So," she murmured, "what does the Fire Lord actually want at his wedding?"
Zuko pretended to think deeply about it.
"Good tea."
"That's your uncle talking."
"Fine. Good tea, fewer nobles, and a reception where Sokka is not allowed to make speeches."
From outside came Sokka's muffled shout: "I heard that!"
Y/N burst out laughing.
Zuko looked momentarily alarmed. "How did he hear that?"
Aang's voice floated in after it. "He was listening at the window."
"I was supervising!"
Katara groaned. "Spirits, Sokka."
Toph cackled loudly enough for the entire street to hear.
Y/N laughed so hard she had to wipe tears from her eyes. Zuko watched her with helpless affection, the kind that softened every sharp edge in his face.
And in that moment, surrounded by broken walls, unfinished invitations, meddling friends, and the smell of jasmine tea, Y/N realised something important.
Their wedding was never going to be elegant.
It was never going to be perfectly organised.
There would be arguments about flowers, diplomatic disasters, missing decorations, and probably at least one small explosion.
But it would be theirs.
Built from laughter, loyalty, forgiveness, and the strange, unbreakable family they had chosen along the way.
Zuko pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
"Whatever happens," he said quietly, "I'm just looking forward to marrying you."
Y/N smiled against his shoulder as the voices of their friends grew louder again, already returning to continue the chaos.
For the first time since the planning began, she found that she was looking forward to it too.
