Flower petals were still floating on the wind, and all Zuko could think about was how much trouble it would be to clean them up. It had been his mother's idea for the spectators to throw them from the windows during the wedding processional. It made a beautiful sight during the ceremony, but now, late into the evening, they were still around. At least they made the air smell nice.

"Stop brooding, it's our wedding," Katara said, placing her hand lightly over his.

Zuko forced his mind away from problems of cleaning up the capital, and looked at his bride. She was absolutely beautiful, her hair braided and curled and jeweled, the Fire Lady's crown sitting firmly in her topknot, her dress a beautiful rich blue with elaborate gold and silver threading that mimicked waves. The full moon was the perfect backdrop for her, and Zuko found himself smiling unguardedly. It was a lot of work and very annoying to plan, and things were rushed toward the end when they found out she was pregnant, but their ceremony had been beautiful and powerful and everything Katara had dreamed it would be. He placed his hand on her growing stomach, glad that she had chosen to highlight it rather than hide it. His heart skipped a beat as she placed her hand over his, and finally, because he could, he kissed her sweetly and gently, loving the way she smelled like moon peaches. Loving her.

"Why don't you dance with your new bride?" Ursa said, coming to sit in the chair beside Katara.

Zuko sighed. Of course this wouldn't be a gathering with their family if someone didn't come along and try to ruin it.

"I didn't know you danced!" Katara said, her face lighting up.

"I don't."

"Don't be silly!"

Ursa was looking at him with a very sly grin, and for some reason—despite having told him that she herself didn't dance—Katara was completely enthralled by this notion. She was absolutely beaming as she turned to face Ursa, and Zuko glared a hole in the back of her head. He would not be dancing. He was content to sit at their table, receive the necessary visitors and talk with his family.

"Zuko went to school before dancing was finally banned," Ursa said, delighted. "So he was taught all of the formal dances."

"He failed to mention that," Katara said, giving him a little pinch. "Why wouldn't you say anything?"

"In fact—"

"Mom. Mom, stop—"

"Zuko was the best in his class—"

"Mom. Mom. Knock it off."

"All of the little girls just loved—"

"Don't go there, mom."

"And I mean loved—"

"Do you hate me?"

"Dancing with him."

Katara turned toward him, and Zuko knew he was in trouble, completely unable to force himself to stop blushing. That had been a long time ago, and yes, he had been good at it in the same way he was good at everything that wasn't firebending. And yes, maybe, he'd been a popular dance partner, though Zuko had always assumed it was in large part because he was a prince.

"Who's to say I even remember?" He asked, crossing his arms.

If it was possible for her smile to get even more devilish and sneaky—and when it came to Katara, it was always possible—it did, and she narrowed her eyes as she looked at him.

"Look me in the eye, Zuko. Tell me you'd deny your pregnant wife a dance on her wedding day."

"You told me you didn't know how to dance," he mumbled.

"I guess you'll just have to lead!"

Ursa had already helped Katara out of her chair, and was now coming for him. Katara looked so excited and hopeful, and Zuko sighed, feeling his face get warm again. She knew he'd do anything for her, and reluctantly, he bowed low, holding out his hand, hating how quickly everything returned to him.

"If I may have the pleasure, my lady?"

"Damn right it's your pleasure," she said with a smile and a giggle.

Katara took his hand and Zuko led her out onto the dance floor as the crowd parted. He was very aware of everyone's eyes on them as the musicians ended one song and started another. Much to his embarrassment, as the new song began, everyone cleared the floor, and they quickly found themselves left alone.

"I hope you're happy," he muttered.

"How could I not be happy, Zuko?"

When she looked at him, there were tears in her eyes, and she stood on the tips of her toes to kiss him. Zuko put his arm around her waist and took her hand, and she fell into step with him in that odd way they had, that back and forth, the push and pull that had been so characteristic of their relationship. He remembered the dance and the way he used to lead partners who weren't as skilled as he was, and he slipped into that old pattern, gently pulling and pushing Katara in the right directions to the beats of the music. He kept the steps simple, waited until he no longer had to guide her into the next movement, then began the next sequence.

Katara blushed as she looked at him, and Zuko couldn't help the little flutters in the pit of his stomach. Katara, his wife, his Fire Lady, was so different from all those other girls. After a while, it was almost as if she were anticipating his movements, the same way she did when they were sparring. She knew where he was going, and Zuko didn't suppress his own smile as he slipped effortlessly into the next sequence, stepping to the right as Katara stepped to the left, her hand still on his shoulder, and his hand resting on her stomach. It was almost uncanny the way she knew him, and Zuko pushed that understanding just to see how far it would go, and she kept up with him, step for step. The world around them disappeared as they moved in synch, perfectly attuned to one another. Even as enemies, it had always been like this; it was always a test to see if he could outwit her, if he could push his bending just a little further to trick her. As friends, this dance continued, one of dominance, but increasingly one of trust, and in typical Katara style, when they came together again, she tried to lead him.

"Stop trying to lead, Katara," he whispered in her ear with his cheek against hers. "You don't even know the dance."

"I know you, though," she said, only halfway predicting his next move. "That's good enough, right?"

"In some things—"

"Try most things."

"In some things, maybe, but not this."

And just to prove him wrong, Katara took control, leading him in the steps he'd just taught her, mixing it slightly with Southern Style waterbending. She was graceful and alluring, and just this once, because it was her wedding, and she was carrying his child, and because he loved her, Zuko let her lead. He followed her, proving that he could anticipate her moves just as well as she could his. When she smiled at him, his heart melted again, because finally, after all they'd been through, things were finally the way they were meant to be.

When the song ended, everyone clapped and complimented the Fire Lord and his Fire Lady, and Zuko decided that maybe it wasn't quite so bad that he had to dance at their wedding. Rather than bow to him, as was traditionally done at the end of dances, Katara laughed as she threw her arms around his waist.

"That was wonderful," she said, her cheek against his chest. "I wish you wouldn't hide these things."

Zuko shrugged, leading Katara back to their table.

"Maybe… Maybe I'll play the tsungi horn for you, sometime."

Katara smiled up at him and squeezed his arm.

"I'd love that."

A/N: Ok, this one is finally done and posted. I've been holding on to it for a long time, and I'm just going to release this one into the wilds. Short, sweet, slightly embarrassing for Zuko. Pure fluff.