At the mature, completely grown-up age of four, Katara decides she’s going to get married.

 

And like most good bride-to-be’s, she walks into the kitchen of her home, with a slightly better than ragged doll tucked safely under her arms, plops down at the kitchen table, and informs her grandmother of her engagement.

 

“I’m marrying Zuko.” She says, sounding mildly bored as she kicks her feet against the table.  “Can I have a cookie?”

 

Gran-gran wonders when this all took place. 

 

“You can have a cookie in a minute, Kat, they’re still cooking.”  She closes the oven door tirelessly, taking her oven mitts off and pouring herself and her granddaughter a glass of lemonade.  “So what’s this about you getting married?”

 

The four-year old rolls her eyes.  “I already told you, Gran-gran, I’m marrying Zuko.”

 

Gran-gran can’t help but laugh.  “Does he know he’s getting married?”

 

“Yep.”  Katara answers smugly, clinging her doll tightly.  “I told him, ‘Zuko you better marry me, or I’m gonna beat you up!’”

 

“He said yes to that?”

 

The four year old blushes.  “Well, no.  First he said he ain’t gonna marry me, that I can’t beat him up and he’d tell his Momma on me ‘cause she wouldn’t make him get married.”

 

“Oh my!” Gran-gran laughs.  “So then what happened?”

 

Katara sighs in the most exaggerated way, like it was such a hassle to tell her Gran what happened. 

 

“I told him he’s a Momma’s boy and a sissy, and it’s a good thing he said no ‘cause I ain’t gonna marry no sissy, and if he really feels that way then I’ll just go off an’ marry Jet then!”  She giggles at the memory.  “He got real mad after that.  Ran after me screamin’ that I couldn’t marry Jet ‘cause Jet’s more of a sissy than him and he’d marry me so long as I didn’t tell nobod—“ She stops mid-sentence and blushes, realization hitting her like a ton of bricks.

 

“Oh Gran-gran, you won’t tell nobody, will you?”

 

“Of course not!”  Gran-gran promises, knowing good and well that, with Katara’s mouth, everyone in the neighborhood would know about the engagement come sundown.  “Go on.”

 

“Well, after that, we just decided we’d get married, that’s all.” She says as if it were obvious.  “We’re gonna get married on Sunday after church, ‘cause we’ll already be dress up and stuff.  You think the preacher will mind?”

 

Gran-gran could already picture it in her head, itty bitty Katara running down the aisle, holding (or dragging, more likely) poor Zuko by the hand and asking their preacher (Pakku…Oh God, Pakku.) if he wouldn’t marrying them. 

 

“For you, sweetheart?” Gran-gran smiles sweetly. (The look on his face will be worth it.) “I don’t think he’ll mind at all.”