la luna enamorada

Author's Note: It took me forever to write this chapter, and I'm not really sure how I feel about it. In any case, I'm really excited to share Chapter 4 next week. It's probably my favorite chapter I've written so far. I suppose the old adage is true: you win some, you lose some.

You laid in your bed, but you did not sleep. Despite the exhaustion tugging at your eyelids, a nervous buzzing in your body kept you awake, and in your lucidity old memories taunted you.

The looming redwoods stretched on for miles, and you watched each one pass by through the passenger side window. You'd made an attempt to count them, but you'd long given up by the time the car slowed to a stop and Ford cut the ignition. You turned to him and saw the gentlest smile spread across his lips.

"Welcome home, my dear," he cooed. Your chest flooded with warmth at the honeyed sound of his voice.

You unbuckled your seatbelt and moved to open the door, to which Ford tutted playfully. He insisted you stay seated before exiting the car himself and walking around to open the door for you. He held his hand out, which you graciously accepted.

"My my, Stanford Pines, you are quite the gentleman," you teased as he helped you from your seat.

Once you were out of the car and on your feet, he shut the door behind you. You didn't wait for him. Already you found yourself drifting toward your new home, completely entranced—it was a rustic A-frame log cabin accented with beautiful stained glass windows. You were already imagining the cool summer nights sitting on the porch and the warm winter evenings cozying up by the fireside. This was the beginning of your new life together.

You turned to him and asked, "You built this for us?"

"Do you like it?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck, a lopsided smile upon his face.

"Are you kidding me?"

You closed the space between you, practically slamming your body into his as you enveloped him in a tight hug. You felt his cheek nuzzle into your hair and breathed in his familiar scent, something coniferous and reminiscent of his name.

In a messed up way, you found yourself glad he seldom slept in bed with you those last few months. It gave your comforter the chance to forget that scent. To breathe it in again would be too much. Even the thought of it made your stomach churn.

You tried your best to be a good wife. Why wasn't it enough?

You tossed and turned for hours in an attempt to clear your head of those nagging thoughts, but your efforts didn't amount to anything. You couldn't get comfortable, and your brain wouldn't shut the hell up. By the time five a.m. rolled around, you had officially given up. If you were going to fall asleep, it would have happened by now, so you figured you might as well do something productive with your waking hours.

You sat up and swung your legs over the side of your bed, stretching your arms above your head to work out the tension that had built up in your back overnight. Sighing out one last yawn, you willed yourself onto your feet and prepared yourself to face another day. At this point, another series of thoughts began to nag at you.

You had been such a mess yesterday, and you felt awful about the way you had treated Stan. First, you had threatened to shoot him, and still he had attempted to comfort you upon learning your husband was stranded in another dimension. And you were so caught up in your own baggage, you didn't stop to consider how he must have been feeling. You'd lost your husband, but he had lost his brother. The cherry on top? You blackmailed him into a phony marriage. Your agreed upon arrangement was probably the best possible conclusion to yesterday's saga, but no amount of rationalizing would erase how shitty you felt about it all.

You wanted to do something to make it up to him, to apologize for your tactlessness... and for the violence. It was decided: you'd cook him breakfast as a way of saying 'thanks for being so considerate even though I victimized you multiple times'.

Now having a clearly defined mission, you stepped into your slippers and started your trek toward the kitchen. As soon as you left your room, you could hear Stan's snoring from down the hall. He must be living in the spare bedroom Fiddleford used to sleep in. From the sound of him, you assumed Stan was a heavy sleeper, but you did your best to creep down the stairs as quietly as you could anyway, careful not to wake him.

The air downstairs was cooler, a frigid reminder of Gravity Falls' chill winter mornings. The sun had yet to rise, but you opened the kitchen blinds out of habit regardless, then opened the fridge to see what you had to work with.

You were concerned.

All Stan had was a half-drank six pack of beer, a few slices of American cheese you were almost certain you'd bought yourself, and an opened can of 'The Brown Meat'.

To put it more accurately, you were not concerned—you were disturbed. How was this guy still alive?

No matter. If you owed Stan an apology, it wouldn't hurt to do some shopping for him too. You quickly took a look inside the cupboards and scanned the room for anything else you might need, making a mental list of things to pick up at the store. The only other things he seemed to have in the kitchen was some watered down generic brand dish soap and a set of salt and pepper shakers. Your list was going to be longer than you thought.

You crept back upstairs, returning to your room to rummage through your purse for grocery money. Your revolver stared at you from the bottom of the bag. Deciding you didn't need it for a simple grocery run, you stashed the gun in the drawer of your nighstand. Then, you began to count the cash still left in your purse. You were down to your last few hundred bucks, so you crossed your fingers and hoped it would be enough to cover any necessary expenses.

Now all you had to do was yourself ready for the day ahead. You held your hand to your breath and considered grabbing the toothbrush from the duffle left in the backseat of your car. You couldn't remember the last time you'd replaced it, so you added it to your mental list and decided to brush your teeth when you came back.

The one thing that couldn't wait until later was a shower. You were much too tired last night, and you were even more tired now, but you were desperate to wash off the remnants of yesterday's drive. You'd driven sixteen hours to Gravity Falls, and your skin sure felt like it.

You strolled to the bathroom and pulled back the shower curtain.

Fuck.

He only has 2-in-1.

Shampoo and conditioner were also going on the list, but at least your good towels were still here.

After successfully scrubbing the grime off your body, you pulled on an old button up and some jeans you hadn't seen in quite a long time. The fit was a little big on you now, but they'd do.

The trip to the store itself was uneventful. You'd been responsible for all the shopping when you were with Ford, and because nothing changed in this town (except for your husband and your house), you were still able to navigate the most efficient route through the store. You took great pride in this.

When you arrived back home, you were again careful to move quietly as you unloaded the groceries in the kitchen. You wanted breakfast to be a surprise. Also, you still weren't sure how to act around Stan yet, and you felt you needed a few more minutes to prepare before he woke up.

Now that you had some real ingredients to cook with, you got to work mixing up pancake batter and heating up pans. This was an old routine you didn't mind. It had been a long time since you last cooked a meal yourself. After you and Ford separated, you didn't actually end up settling down anywhere, so it was nice to be in your own kitchen again.

After flipping your last pancake, you laid six strips of bacon on a hot frying pan, then maneuvered yourself to the coffee maker to put on a fresh pot. You heard the stairs creaking behind you just as the beans began to brew. You turned your head to look at him. Stan's hair was still mussed from sleep, and he was sporting a white tank top paired with plaid pajama pants.

"Good morning," you greeted him with a sheepish smile.

"What's all this?" he asked. His voice was especially gruff in the morning.

"Oh, you know," you started, "wifely duties." Stan huffed out an amused grunt and grabbed a mug out of the cupboard without saying anything.

"You have great timing, by the way. How do you like your eggs?" you asked, flipping the bacon with a spatula.

"I'll eat 'em however you make 'em, toots," he said, then poured himself coffee from the pot. You stared at him for a second.

"The question I asked was, 'How do you like your eggs?'" you repeated. Another moment passed as he took a sip from his mug.

"Sunny-side up."

"Coming right up," you told him, cracking two eggs into another pan. "By the way, I don't know how you take your coffee, but I bought some milk and sugar too." You nodded your head toward the cupboard.

He shuffled over and set his mug down on the counter. You watched out of the corner of your eye as he proceeded to pour what you would consider to be an egregious amount of sugar into his coffee. He topped off his cup with a splash of milk, leaving barely enough room for him to stir without spilling. Stan took a sip, and with the taste to his liking, sat down at the kitchen table. You got the impression that the food situation you'd awoken to this morning wasn't exactly a matter of choice.

Once the eggs were done cooking, you plated the food and set them down in front of him. You sat yourself in the chair across from him, your own cup of black coffee in hand.

"Dig in," you commanded him, grabbing your own fork and knife.

The two of you enjoyed breakfast in silence, still unsure of how to interact with each other. You had started to feel a little more comfortable with each other at the diner yesterday evening, but progress was not a linear path. It would take some time for the both of you to get used to each other's presence—an adjustment period.

Stan lifted his plate and used his fork to shovel the last of his pancakes into his mouth, barely chewing before he swallowed.

"Thanks for the food," he said, looking into his coffee cup. "You didn't have to do that."

"It's the least I could do considering I almost shot you in the face," you replied, offering him an awkward laugh.

"You can say that again." His eyes drifted up from his mug to peer into yours. He looked so tired.

"I'm serious. I'm really sorry about... everything. This town has an uncanny talent for turning otherwise rational people into paranoid miscreants," you admitted.

"Don't sweat it," he said before downing his last sip of coffee. "That wasn't the first time I've had a gun to my head, so it was a pretty normal Tuesday all things considered." A low chuckle rumbled through his chest, as if he had just told a joke.

"Well, it was my first time pointing a gun at anyone, so I'm still really sorry," you said more earnestly this time. He chuckled again.

"You could've fooled me."

"Really?" you asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Did I seem like I knew what I was doing?" Stan was smirking now.

"It was a solid hold up. Very intimidating," he assured you. You couldn't tell if he was fucking with you or not, but a proud smile crept its way onto your face regardless.

"So, what's the move for today, bossman?" you asked.

"Well, my firsy tour today is scheduled around ten, so I should have enough time to get ready and show you around the place before any customers start schleppin' over."

"Sounds like a plan," you replied.

This worked out perfectly. You knew things would be different around here since Stan moved in, but you hadn't gotten the chance to look around much yet. Ford's lab space had begun to eat up the square footage of your living space by the time you packed you bags, and if the front room was any indication, Stan had reversed some of his renovations. It was homier now, like it used to be. You were curious to see what else Stan had changed.

You stood up and began to clear the table, but didn't make it very far before Stan started snatching plates from your hands.

"Hey, what're you—"

"You cook, I clean, right?" There was that toothy smile of his again. It drew a smile from your lips too.

"So, Stan Pines is a gentleman," you teased.

"I'm just trying not to get shot," he quipped back, dropping the dishes in the sink and tossing a dishtowel over his shoulder.

That's when you noticed it. Hiding beneath the towel, Stan had some sort of marking on his back. It was peaking out from under his tanktop. You didn't get a very good look at it before the moment passed, but the symbol appeared to have been scribed onto raised skin. He was branded.

You had only recovered a few small fragments of Stan's history since meeting, and already you did not know what to make of them. Before yesterday, his mere existence had been an absolute mystery, and now he was standing before you, a whole human being carrying around his own baggage just like everyone else. Your chest ached.

“I know what they are, Javi,” you giggle, “I just mean, why are we getting them? They’re not on the list.”

“You and your list,” Javi chuckles fondly, “You nearly burned your hands yesterday night taking the lasagna out of the oven.  Chucho hasn’t baked in 30 years - those oven mitts of his are so old, a piece of paper has better insulation.  You should have let me do it, baby.”

“I’m trying to impress your father, Javi.”

“You don’t need to try, pretty bird.  That man would go to war for you.  All the Peña men would,” the daring DEA agent flashes his famous smile at you - not the same one you fell for long ago back in Columbia, but it’s no less devastating.  The old smile was a little tighter and it strained to reach the pain in his eyes; that smile was a weapon, a mask, elusive and fleeting.  The smile he flashes you these days is no less dangerous, but it comes more naturally and more frequent; its lines have settle easily on this man’s gorgeous face, deep and earned, softening all his features but especially the browns of those same eyes.  Both smiles can and have made you swoon on the spot; you’re grateful you have the bar of the shopping cart to lean on for support.

The two of you grin dopily at one another over your cartful of groceries, oblivious to the other shoppers in this Laredo grocery store.  You may be far from home, but the love you share is the same everywhere, unwavering and soul affirming.  Neither of you count the minutes that pass, it could be one or twenty, before you both snap back to the present, to the ambient muzak playing over the produce section.

“Okay, baby, I think we’ve covered everything on that list of yours, all that’s left is tonight’s dinner.  We got the steaks for grilling - anything else?” Javi rubs his hands together, eager to get back to the ranch and show off his skill on the barbeque.

You giggle and gesture cheekily around you, “Vegetables?”  At Javi’s nose scrunch, you crook your index finger for him to lean forward, planting a quick peck to that kissable pout of his, “If the Peña men are to go to war, they’ll need to eat more vegetables.”

Javi chases your lips, capturing them with a passionate, but still public appropriate smooch, “Okay, okay, can’t ever say no to you, pretty bird.  Peppers.  Some asparagus.  Corn?”  He’s already walking away, headed for a barrel of sweet corn when you shout after him, “Mushrooms!”

“Mushrooms!” comes the confirmation, loud and clear, accompanied by a thumbs up held high.  You hum to yourself, ogling the man’s backside as he starts digging through ears of corn – you hope he never gives up those tight jeans, no matter what the current style is.  There’s little danger of that happening; Javier Peña has never been one to try and blend in, follow trends – he’s one of a kind, this man of yours.

“You’ve sure got that man all trained up, running around fetching the groceries while you stay with the cart.”

You turn to see a pretty woman with dirty blonde hair and a pleasant look about her, she’s around Javi’s age and pushing her own very full shopping cart – unable to determine if her tone is awestruck, joking, or… something else, your reply is a little wary, “Sorry?”

“I never thought I’d see the day when Javier Peña would be seen doing run of the mill, domestic tasks here in Laredo.  Did he move back?”

You know who the woman is now, and while you’re still no closer to figuring out the intention of her comments, she’s no threat, “We’re just visiting from New York, here to spend some time with Chucho before I’m not allowed to fly anymore.”

The woman raises her eyebrows as you push off the shopping cart bar and step back, straightening so that your pregnant belly comes into view.

“Oh!”

“Hi Lorraine,” Javi is back, he’s casual in his movements as he deposits the veggies of his labour into the cart, but deliberate in wrapping a protective arm around your waist, unsure of what was said before his return, “I see you’ve met my wife?”

You introduce yourself and extend your hand towards the other woman for a friendly shake; the lack of any further polite introductions is an indication that no explanations on how everyone knows one another is needed.

“So,” Lorraine smiles brightly, “How far along are you?  Has it been a good pregnancy so far?”

“Yep!” you chirp, your warm expression relaxing your husband’s shoulders, he takes a calming breath and places a proud hand on your round belly, “Just a little over five months!”

“Well, congratulations!  I’m very happy for you both,” the blonde woman is as gracious in her felicitations as you are in accepting them.  Before she turns to go, her curiosity gets the better of her, “Do you mind if I ask, boy or girl?”

“Boy,” you answer, clearly elated.

“Another Peña ready to storm the beaches,” chuckles Javi and the two of you instinctively tilt your heads towards one another, sharing in the private joke.  Lorraine takes your impromptu tête-à-tête as her cue to leave, bidding you and your husband good luck and farewell, leaving you to inspect the produce Javi has selected for tonight's dinner.

“Did I do good?” grins Javi, all thoughts of his ex-fiancé gone as quickly as she had suddenly appeared – his attention fully on the only woman who ever occupies his thoughts.

You pretend to pick through his selections, reserving your praise, “Hmmmmm… Baby Boy Peña doesn’t want any of this sadly.”

“What?” the normally steely head of New York’s DEA field office panics, dismayed at the idea that he’s disappointed his still in utero child, “What does he want?”

“Sushi.”

“The baby wants sushi?”

“Mmmmhhmmm,” you sigh with a dreamy far-off look, “Mercury enriched sashimi.  And an Italian deli meat sandwich from that bodega around the corner back home.  With extra sauce.  And brie!  The baby wants brie, Javi.”

The man chuckles, “Me too, baby.”  You get misty-eyed (damn these hormones!) remembering that in solidarity, Javi has also given up all the foods you can’t eat for the duration of your pregnancy.  Though you had insisted there was no need, it does make you feel incredibly supported and lucky to have such devoted partner; cupping your husband’s handsome face in your hands, you whisper, “Thank you, my love.”

He kisses your eyelids lightly, then with one arm still around your waist, starts pushing the cart towards the checkout, “Thank you, pretty bird.  You’re so strong and beautiful, I owe you everything for carrying our child.  I love you.”

“I love you too, Javi.”

“Please try to remember that when I have to cook your steak medium well tonight,” sheepish, he kisses the corner of your mouth and tries not to chuckle at your frozen look of abject horror, pretending to focus entirely on loading the groceries from the cart onto the checkout conveyor belt.

“You have to eat yours medium well too.”

“What?!!”

And today is just one of those days. He’d spent the night tossing and turning, trying to massage away a kink in his neck that persisted well into the afternoon. But he hadn’t had time to complain or think too much about how excited he was to crawl back beneath the sheets, because the northernmost barn was falling to pieces. 

So, not only was he functioning half empty from the start, but the work today was also strenuous. Sawing raw timber to the perfect length, sanding down the sharp edges, hammering nails into plywood. A full day. 

And when Denise had stopped him on his way home, waving him down with a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade in hand, she’d given him that bright, hopeful smile and said, “Little Sammy ran that damn bike into the back door again. Would you mind fixing the hinges?”

His back ached and his knees were creaky, but Joel soon found himself knelt on Denise’s porch, screwdriver and fresh nails in hand.

It didn’t take long, but it did take every last scrap of energy that remained inside of him.

Joel’s house was always quiet. Too big for him, really. Ellie was in the garage already, lights still on, up too late when she had early patrol the following morning. But Joel didn’t have it in him to remind her how important sleep was. Not when he was running on fumes himself.

So he dragged those tired, old bones inside. Kicked off his boots and jeans right at the door of his room, hung his flannel over the back of the chair at his work bench, and let out a long sigh as he climbed beneath icy cotton sheets.

He’s half asleep, eyes closed and muscles sinking into the mattress, when he hears it. 

The click of the latch on the unlocked front door. The creak of your careful steps as you climb the stairs.

Joel feels you before he sees you. Too exhausted to pull himself out of blissful almost-sleep. The mattress dips beneath your weight, limbs outstretched, seeking him out of instinct. 

This isn’t the first time this has happened. Not the first time you’ve found yourself peering out of your window next door waiting for him to get home. Not the first time you’ve ended up in his bed or in his arms.

And Joel knows he should put a stop to it—you’re too young, too sweet, too…good. 

But he’s too worn out to fight his impulses. He’s tried for months to keep his thoughts pure when you cross his mind, but it’s been a losing battle from the start.

Especially when you’re like this. Warm and soft, pressed up against his side, wearing an old t-shirt he’d let you borrow the night before and not much else. A comfort that feels more like home than this house does.

The tips of your fingers tickle his forearm, rousing him just enough that he lifts the heavy limb so you can crawl right into his embrace.

Joel holds you tight. He always does. Biceps big and strong around your shoulders. He holds you like he might lose you tomorrow, because there’s a part of him that fears one day you’ll wake up and see something you don’t like. 

He worries you’ll begin to see him for what he is; old, weary, tired. Not even half the man he used to be. Not half the man you deserve.

But for tonight at least, you still wear those rose tinted glasses. Pressing sweet kisses to his face; his nose, his forehead, his cheeks. Nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, making cute, whiny noises at the back of your throat. Like you’re desperate, unable to get close enough despite every inch being pressed against him, leg hooked over his hips. 

You find a comfortable position and still beside him, letting out the same sort of long sigh Joel did just moments ago. But you don’t sleep—your breathing doesn’t even out, your muscles don’t go slack. 

Joel knows what you need. Long before your hips tilt, before you press your center against his thigh, before you whisper his name in the dark. 

“S’okay, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice deep and dark and sleepy. “C’mere.”

He reaches over and brackets his arm around your waist to drag you on top of him, your center already warm and wanting.

It’s starting to get out of hand, he knows. Starting to become a routine. But Joel doesn’t have many sweet thing in his life, not anymore, and he finds you near impossible to resist. “I’ve got you,” he says. “Take what ya need.”

You lay against his chest, ear pressed right over his heart. Joel kisses the crown of your head when your hips begin to tilt, rubbing yourself against the steadily growing bulge beneath the thin fabric of his boxers.

Soft, wanton sighs leave you at the sensation, and even with a barrier still between you he can feel your clit pulse against the underside of his cock. 

Needy little thing you are. But Joel doesn’t mind—he likes the feeling. Of being needed, wanted. Especially by a girl as sweet as you.

You grind on top of him for a while. Not seeking release, not yet. Just feeling the hard warmth of him beneath you, savoring the weight of his big hands stroking softly up and down the expanse of your back. 

He can feel your arousal growing with each pass, wetness slowly seeping through his boxers, slick and sticky. Joel nudges you gently with the tip of his nose, the prickly hairs of his mustache tickling the side of your face. “C’mon, sweet girl. Let’s get this shirt off, hm?”

When you nod, you pull yourself up tiredly. The movement is slow and thick like molasses, so Joel uses the last of his energy to help you. 

His hands find the hem of the oversized t-shirt and pull it upwards, over your head to be discarded on the floor beside his bed. It leaves you completely naked, bared for him in more ways than one. 

In an instant, you fall back against him, breasts pressed up against his chest. Your skin feels cool against his, smooth and pillowy. “S’warm,” you mutter, rubbing the side of your cheek against the coarse hair that litters his chest, graying in some places.

Joel’s cock throbs beneath you, but he doesn’t pay it any mind. He just lets you settle back down and allows you to rest. His hands wander, though, the way they always do. 

Sliding down your back, over the sides of your thighs, thumbs massaging gentle circles. He strokes his fingers gently back up to your shoulders and then brings them down your arms, smiling when he sees goosebumps rise in his wake.

When they settle back at your hips, his touch is a little more eager. Kneading at the softness, inching over the curve of your ass until that’s all his hands are filled with. 

Joel loves touching you. Not just suggestively, but intimately. He loves feeling the closeness and the trust you put in him to take care of you, to keep you safe, to make you feel good.

He massages the supple flesh, holding you close, until his need for you begins to grow teeth, gnawing at his psyche. 

Joel knows he shouldn’t. He knows that. 

But he’s just so tired, and you’re so soft. Gentle and kind. And you make him feel loved—something Joel Miller has not felt for a very, very long time.

He guides you with his hands gripping at your curves, sliding your slick cunt over his aching cock. His breath feels hollow, stuck in his lungs.

When he lifts upward, just a little, enough to provide a little extra pressure, you mewl in response. 

Joel is quick to soothe, shushing softly into your ear. “Shh, you’re alright. Hang on, sweet girl. M’right here.”

He knows what you need. It’s become a nightly ritual at this point. You come to him seeking connection, seeking the comfort of an older man. Most nights you just need to be held, to be nurtured, to be loved the way you deserve. 

But other nights, Joel knows you need a little more. A connection that runs a little deeper.

He reaches beneath you, hooking his thumbs in the elastic band of his boxers and tugging them down his tired legs. Just enough to free his cock, already hard as stone just from your proximity. 

Joel pulls your forward, up his torso, giving himself room to line his length up with your entrance.

He slides in real easy.

You’re already soaked, dripping with arousal. And the moment he’s fully seated inside you, stretching you real wide, filling up your belly, you let out a breathy whine.

It feels right, being here like this with you. It feels like coming home. 

Joel moves you slowly, guiding each roll of your hips, slowing you down when you try to pick up the pace. 

There’s no rush. Not here, not with him. He’ll get you there. He’ll get you what you need. What’s the sense in hurrying through it? 

He wants to savor it. The feel of your sweet, soft pussy, clenching and leaking around his length. The way your stuttering breath tickles his skin. The way your hands grip him harder and harder, holding him impossibly closer.

He wants to savor the way you love him. 

“Gimme a kiss, baby,” he whispers in the dark.

You turn your head, just enough so that he can press his lips to yours. In this, too, Joel moves painfully slow.

It’s not a claiming, it’s an exploration. His lips move against yours, memorizing the feel of them, the shape and the taste. He slowly licks into your mouth, tongue gliding against yours, breathing in your exhalation. 

The building coil around his spine is anything but slow, however. He loves being here with you maybe a little too much. He loves you a little too much. 

Joel thrust upwards, keeping a steady, unforgiving rhythm while he slides his hand between you. His fingers search blindly for your clit and he finds it in seconds, circling those slow, tight circles around the pulsing nerves. 

Your sounds grow louder, release building. The sound of your joining echoes in the empty room, slick and wet and feverish.

He knows your close when you start manually breathing—lungs stuttering, chasing the delicious relief that only he can provide.

“You got it,” he encourages. “S’right there, baby. Give it to me.”

Your eyes stay locked to his, lips parting on a jagged moan. You don’t say anything; no warning, no begging. You just feel it, feel him, moving deep inside you, fucking you through it. 

“That’s it,” he says, voice all soft and warm the way it only ever is when he speaks to you. “There you go.”

He doesn’t stop until you find the natural rhythm of oxygen again, until the shaking in your thighs relents to an easy tremble. 

Joel feels that white-hot coil beginning to spool within himself, and pulls out of you with just enough time to shoot thick ropes of cum over your pubic bone.

He thrusts the underside of his cock through your syrupy folds, a gentle rocking until he’s spent. He somehow finds the energy for a few extra thrusts, smearing his release over your clit.

You don’t move an inch, and Joel doesn’t want you to.

Instead, you just lay there on top of him, sticky mess between you, your head resting delicately on his chest. 

When you reach up to card your fingers through his graying hair, Joel feels his muscles go completely slack, tension bleeding from his weary bones.

“M’sorry I woke you up,” you say, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I know you were tired.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Joel says, and he means it. “I’ll always have time for you."

🎶Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift🎶:

He said, "Let's get out of this town Drive out of the city, away from the crowds" I thought Heaven can't help me now Nothing lasts forever But this is gonna take me down He's so tall and handsome as hell He's so bad, but he does it so well I can see the end as it begins My one condition is

Say you'll remember me Standing in a nice dress Staring at the sunset, babe Red lips and rosy cheeks Say you'll see me again Even if it's just in your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha Wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

I said, "No one has to know what we do" His hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room And his voice is a familiar sound Nothing lasts forever But this is getting good now He's so tall and handsome as hell He's so bad, but he does it so well And when we've had our very last kiss My last request is

Say you'll remember me Standing in a nice dress Staring at the sunset, babe Red lips and rosy cheeks Say you'll see me again Even if it's just in your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha (ha-ah, ha) Wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

You'll see me in hindsight Tangled up with you all night Burning it down Someday when you leave me I bet these memories Follow you around You'll see me in hindsight Tangled up with you all night Burning (burning) it (it) down (down) Someday when you leave me I bet these memories Follow (follow) you (you) around (follow you around)

Frowning in mild disappointment, you washed up, pulled on a light, comfortable robe, and headed downstairs. The cabin was weirdly quiet. Everyone had gone to bed after the festival last night, so you could only assume the rest of the group was still sound asleep.

Everyone except Sokka, that is.

You spotted him sitting near the sunlit window, a steaming mug of tea forgotten on the ledge beside him. He was holding a piece of cloth, entirely absorbed in polishing the shiny tin surface of his new medallion.

You grabbed a fresh piece of fruit from the kitchen bowl as you walked into the room. 

"Morning, champion!", you greeted him.

"Morning, my fellow champion," Sokka replied, holding the medal up to the light and squinting to check for streaks.

You took a bite of your fruit, glancing around the empty common area. You tried to make the gesture look effortless… but you were trying perhaps too hard.

Sokka lowered the medal, giving you a knowing look. 

“Looking for Zuko?"

"No." You crossed your arms, leaning your weight onto one hip in total indifference. "Why? Have you, uh... seen him around?"

Sokka went back to buffing the metal, a smug grin playing on his lips.

"He left about half an hour ago after eating breakfast."

Your eyebrows shot up, you tried to mask it by twirling a loose strand of hair around your finger, suddenly invested in inspecting your split ends.

"He did? That’s funny…”

"Yep. He never really struck me as a morning person, but I guess being the Fire Lord changes a man," Sokka said, still too focused on his prize. He let a heavy beat pass before he casually sipped his tea. "He went up to the hot springs."

You dropped your hair, smoothing down the front of your robe. 

“Okay. Thank you. See you.” You turned on your heel, ready to bolt out the door.

"Wait." Sokka narrowed his eyes, pointing the polishing cloth at you. "He specifically told me not to let anybody go up there."

You paused, looking back over your shoulder. 

"...Anybody?"

"Anybody."

You nodded thoughtfully, tapping your chin. 

"Interesting… Well," you said cheerfully, taking a step toward the exit. "It's a good thing I’m not going to the hot springs, then."

Sokka blinked, looking at his cup. "You're not?"

"No! Why would I, especially since he asked you to guard the path?" You walked over and gave his shoulder a supportive pat. "You’re doing a fantastic job, by the way! Keep it up. Just in case Katara or Toph want to go up anytime soon…”

"Katara is locked in her room," Sokka noted, shaking his head. "She asked me to make sure nobody disturbed her, either. Apparently, Aang is feeling under the weather this morning."

"He's not feeling well?" you asked, intrigued by Katara's suspiciously familiar strategy.

Sokka sighed.

“Yeah, Katara said he wouldn’t appreciate any noise or disturbances while she helped him 'relax' and recover."

"I see..." You smiled to yourself, respecting Katara's brilliant execution. "What about Toph?"

"She’s sleeping outside in the hammock," Sokka explained, setting his tea down to give his medal one final wipe. "She didn’t explicitly tell me to keep people away, but honestly, I wouldn’t go near her if I were you. She’s terribly hungover."

"That sounds dangerous," you agreed.

"Yeah. Anyway... where exactly are you going if you're not heading to the hot springs?"

"I'm actually going to gather..." You looked around the room, your eyes scrambling for inspiration before landing on the fruit bowl. "...sea-plums!"

Sokka stared flatly at you. "Sea-plums?"

"Very important. Essential for breakfast."

"You don’t even like sea-plums. I know that for a fact!”

"I’ve changed…”

"You changed overnight?"

"People grow, Sokka." You quickly turned and made a break for the front door.

Sokka slowly lowered his cloth, his eyes widening as the pieces connected. "...Wait."

You offered a cheerful wave without turning back.

“Bye!"

"WAIT!"

By the time Sokka scrambled to the open doorway, your laughter was already echoing down the trail as you hurried toward the secluded area.

"What happened?" Suki asked, leaning against the doorframe and rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she walked up behind him.

Sokka watched your retreating figure for a moment, a spark igniting in his eyes. He turned to Suki, proudly slipping his shiny champion medal around his neck before looping his arm smoothly through hers.

“You know what they say, babe! If you can’t beat them, join them."

Suki blinked up at him, very confused. 

"… What does that mean in this situation, Sokka?"

"It means," Sokka said, his voice dropping into an uncharacteristically romantic tone as he reached up to tenderly tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "that you and I are going to go check out those beautiful waterfalls on the other side of the island."

Suki's eyes sparkled with delight, her hands resting flat against his chest as she stepped closer into his space.

“We are?"

"For sure," Sokka murmured, leaning down to press a sweet, lingering kiss to her lips. When he pulled back, a look of authority took over his face, and he cleared his throat loudly. "And NO ONE, I repeat, NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO GO NEARBY!"

Suki laughed, swatting his shoulder playfully. 

"Why are you shout—?"

A perfectly aimed pebble flew through the open doorway and struck Sokka dead in the back of the head.

"Ow!" Sokka yelped, rubbing the spot and spinning around.

"No one is going anywhere, you loudmouthed boomerang-brain!" Toph’s scratchy, hungover voice boomed across the yard. "Everyone is clearly busy! Now shut your traps and leave before I actually get up!"

Sokka and Suki froze for an instant before Sokka grabbed Suki’s hand, spun on his heel, and the two of them bolted out the back door toward the waterfalls in silence.

𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚

You followed the narrow path upward, brushing past vibrant clusters of wildflowers and dark stone already warmed by the morning sun. Every so often, faint wisps of steam drifted between the rock faces ahead, disappearing into the fresh sea breeze before you could even reach them.

Rounding one final bend in the trail, you stopped.

The hot springs sat nestled within a beautifully sheltered hollow carved directly into the heart of the cliffs. Several natural pools stepped gently down the rock face, their crystal-clear surfaces veiled by drifting, shifting ribbons of steam. Mineral-rich water spilled lazily from one stone basin into the next before disappearing into a narrow channel that ran down toward the sea. The entire place felt hidden from the rest of the world.

To make it even better, a few of the larger, natural rock pools were separated by heavy, ivory privacy curtains. Following a strong suspicion, you walked toward the largest pool at the very end of the path, where thick steam rose like a protective wall. Holding your breath, you stepped up to the curtain and peeked through the fabric.

Zuko was leaning back against the dark volcanic stone with his eyes closed. One broad, muscled arm was stretched along the rocky edge of the spring, and just looking at him made your thoughts spin…

His hair was in a bun, you noticed. Morning sunlight filtered through the mist, catching in the damp, dark strands of hair that had fallen across his forehead. For a moment, you stood there and stared, taking him in.

Without even opening his eyes, he spoke. "You know, I could feel you coming a mile away."

You stepped fully into the enclosure, pulling the curtain aside behind you.

"Maybe I wanted to be felt," you teased, stepping closer. "I wouldn’t want to interrupt anyone else’s private rest time."

Zuko opened his eyes. 

"I would love nothing more than for you to interrupt mine. Please, don’t be shy."

His gaze dipped pointedly toward the edge of the pool where his clothes lay on the ground, inviting you in.

Now that you were inside the curtained space, you realized just how spacious and hidden it actually was. To the right of the natural spring, someone had laid down a plush arrangement of thick blankets and soft pillows on the smooth ground. Overhead, glowing strings of lights hung across the rocks like the ones outside your cabin.

You walked over to the flat stone on the left where Zuko had neatly left his clothes, and your fingers went to the ties of your outfit. You hadn't dressed in anything extravagant or fitting for a Fire Lady today; you had chosen a simple, airy white dress. As you unfastened it and let the fabric slip down to the floor, Zuko's eyes found you.

He leaned his chin in his hand, a beautifully tired, heavy-lidded expression on his face as he watched you from the water. He didn’t need to utter a single word. The dark, burning intensity in his eyes told you everything you needed to know: your husband was incredibly eager to get his hands on you.

Fully naked, you stepped closer to the edge of the spring, carefully scanning the wet, smooth stones to find a way in without clumsily ruining the ambiance growing between you.

Zuko’s half-smile widened at your caution. He began to stand up.

As he rose from the steaming depths, the water cascaded off his frame in shimmering sheets, and a quiet truth hit you all over again- you would never, ever get tired of seeing him naked. The light helped defining the hard, sculpted lines of his chest and the sharp ridges of his abs. Everything was slick with heat, a dozen glistening water droplets tracking slow paths down the prominent, deeply cut V-line of his hips. Your gaze instinctively flicked lower, catching a brief, heated glimpse of him completely bared and uncovered, before you quickly brought your eyes back up to meet his.

“Come here," he said in a rough command.

"Such a gentleman," you teased softly, slipping your hand into his grip.

The water took you in with a rush of enveloping heat as you sank into the sculpted basin of the spring directly opposite him. Your tired muscles began to loosen, and your body practically sighed with gratitude as the water rose to your collarbones. Unable to help yourself, an involuntary moan escaped your lips.

"This is so good," you breathed, letting your head fall back against the stone. "We really need to take warm baths like this more often, don’t you think?"

"I think we can definitely arrange that," Zuko replied, the water sloshing as he sat. "These past few days have shown us both that there are a lot of things we should be doing more often..."

"Like allowing Sokka to organize more of our group events?" you asked, a playful smile tucking at your lips as you inhaled the damp steam.

Zuko let out a quiet laugh under his breath. 

"I’m still pondering if that’s a risk we can safely take."

You opened your eyes to find him watching you. "Oh, admit it, he’s been a fantastic host! And he completely helped me redeem my honor in the harbor games last night, which, you know more than anyone is a massive deal—ow!"

As you tried to shrug your shoulders emphasis, a sharp twinge of pain cut through the base of your neck. Your hand immediately darted up to press against the tight knot nestled right between your neck and shoulder blade. The inevitable price of spending weeks hunched over endless stacks of scrolls back at the palace.

Before you could even complain, Zuko moved. 

His hands found your waist beneath the water, his grip firm and effortless as he guided you around, pulling your back against his chest so you were sitting right between his thighs. His fingers brushed your hand away from your neck.

"Allow me," he said against your ear as his thumbs found the exact center of the ache, applying an amazingly deep pressure.

"Zuko," you gasped, your head lolling back as the agonizing tension finally began to break. "Agni... right there, yes..."

He laughed.

"What?" you asked, leaning into the intoxicating heat of his touch.

"Nothing, just keep relaxing," he replied, his thumbs tracing slow circles over the tight muscles. "But this is exactly why you need to let me take care of more of the daily scrollwork."

"Absolutely not," you mumbled, your head swaying slightly with the rhythm of his hands. "Then you would be the one hurting, and you already do more than enough."

His hands paused for a fraction of a second, his chest expanding with a deep breath against your back.

“You do enough too," he whispered tenderly. 

He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to the bare curve of your shoulder, before his hands slipped back to work, melting the last of your stress away into the steam.

For a while, neither of you said anything. The silence wasn’t awkward; it never was with him.

The entire island felt slower this morning, as though even the world itself had decided to rest after the chaos of the past few days.

When his hands finally left your shoulders, you let your head fall back against his chest. Zuko’s arms didn’t need an instruction to wrap around your middle beneath the water, pulling you flush against him as he rested his face against your damp hair.

“This has been nice,” you said in a quiet whisper, feeling your eyelids grow heavy. You could have fallen asleep right there in his arms without a single regret...

You felt the faint vibration of his laugh against your back before you actually heard it.

“Which part? The retreat or the collapsing shrine?”

“The retreat,” you smiled, nudging him with your shoulder.

Your arms shifted beneath the surface, settling more comfortably as you folded them over his, locking your fingers with his hands.

“Yeah,” he admitted after a moment with his chin resting on your shoulder. “It really has. But don’t tell Sokka.”

“Because you’re going to tell him yourself, right?” you said. Zuko let out a low noise of complaint against your neck. “Come on, Zu. He deserves it.”

“Fine. I will tell him,” he conceded. “It has been... quite enjoyable.”

There was something unusually raw and honest in his tone that made you move to glance back at him.

Moments like this were rare throughout the years: just the two of you, with no responsibilities, no titles, and no one expecting anything from you. Your gaze lingered on him a second longer than you intended.

Naturally, Zuko noticed. “You keep looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re… thinking.”

You smiled. “I am thinking, dear husband.”

“That’s what worries me, dear wife.”

You laughed, shifting your hand beneath the water to splash a small wave in his direction. 

The playful sound died down when his hand lifted from your waist, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek.

The cut. It was tiny, barely visible now under the morning light, but it didn’t stop his thumb from tracing the uninjured skin just beneath it.

You groaned, tilting your head back. “Zuko…”

His eyes didn’t leave the scratch. 

“I can’t help it. It still bothers me.”

“It was barely even a cut, come on…”

“You were bleeding…”

Wanting to put an end to his worrying, you twisted around to face him properly, sending small ripples cascading through the water. Sensing your movement, Zuko's hands caught your hips, effortlessly guiding you until you were sitting straddling his lap, your thighs framing his waist.

“It was a scratch,” you insisted, placing your hands on his broad shoulders.

“It was your face!”, he insisted.

“I've had much worse. Remember my fight with the sea monster?”

Zuko paused, a panicked blankness washing over his features. “Not really, no…”

“True... that was back when you were still chasing us,” you chuckled, clearing your throat. “Anyway! I survived that, and I am still in one piece. Plus, there are people out there who constantly get hurt doing much sillier things.”

“And?”

“And I think surviving a rogue pebble from a collapsing ancient shrine is fairly impressive by comparison.”

That finally earned a reluctant smile from him, the tension in his shoulders dropping a fraction.

You leaned closer. “I’m fine, Zu. I promise. You don’t have to feel bad about it!”

His hand slid from your cheek, his fingers cupping your jawline with a familiarity that ran straight to your core.

“I know you’re fine.”

“But…?”

“But I still don’t like it.”

His grip on your hip tightened, pressing you to him as if a sudden gust of wind might steal you away. Even after all these years, the mere sight of a mark on your skin unsettled him so deeply it showed in the tight, sharp tension of his unscarred brow. 

The crown, the throne, the nation… none of it mattered in the face of the terrifying truth written in his eyes: losing you remained the most frightening thing in his world.

You leaned forward, closing the small distance between you, and pressed a kiss against the corner of his mouth.

When you pulled away, Zuko's eyes stayed closed for a long second, his breath hitching against your lips. His thumb smoothed over your jawline, his hand remaining resting against your face.

“You know I adore you, right?” he asked.

The question caught you so thoroughly off guard, leaving you to do nothing but nod blindly against his touch.

“I just…” He exhaled quietly, the warm breath fanning across your lips as he looked down at you. “Sometimes I look at you, and I think about everything this life asks of you.”

You blinked, his words sending a wave of curiosity through you.

“Zuko, what are you talking about?”

His hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, his long fingers tracing the exact alignment of muscles that had been knotting up with pain only moments earlier.

“Things like that,” he answered, his thumb rubbing a comforting circle into your skin. “And the scrolls. The endless meetings. The ministries and the councils. The fact that this entire vacation has been the most enjoyable time I’ve seen you have all year.”

“That's not true!" you countered. "I really loved putting together the chorus of kids for your birthday celebration last month…”

A smile broke through his seriousness. “Aside from that.”

His thumb continued its hypnotic movement against your skin.

“You wake up before everyone else in the palace. You go to sleep after everyone else has gone to bed. Half the time, I look at you and realize you’re carrying problems that should be entirely mine to bear.”

“They are ours,” you emphasized, lifting your hands to cradle the smooth side of his face.

“They became yours because of me,” he replied, his voice dropping into a register of what you knew was deeply rooted guilt.

“Zu…”

His gaze pulled away from yours, looking down at the rippling water between your chests. “You were one of the first people who truly trusted me when I wanted to change.”

“Actually, I think that honor goes to Toph,” you pointed out.

“You were one of the first people who trusted me,” he corrected, a hint of his usual stubbornness returning.

“Better.”

His smile faded back into a memory that clearly still lived right beneath his skin.

“I still remember the Western Air Temple, how you looked at me back then,” he whispered, his grip on the back of your neck tightening enough to pull you a fraction closer. “I remember thinking that I didn't deserve that kind of unyielding faith. And I remember promising myself that I’d spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of it.”

His voice had gone quiet, barely carrying over the rhythmic lapping of the water against the stone. 

You looked at him, at the man who still carried the ghosts of his past even after all these years of peace. At the man who had spent decades trying to become someone worthy of the trust people placed in him, completely blind to the fact that he already was. He couldn’t just say those things.

“Zuko, I…”

He looked at you. Whatever verbal response he had been expecting, it clearly wasn’t what you did instead.

You reached up, cupping both sides of his face to pull him down into a deep and loving kiss, hoping the absolute devotion in the touch would suffice as an answer where words failed.

As the seconds stretched, his hand slid up into your damp hair, while your own hands settled against the sides of his neck.

When the kiss finally broke, it was only because breathing had become a necessity. Zuko didn't pull away far, resting his forehead against yours, his chest rising and falling in heavy and synchronized breaths with your own.

“You know,” he said, as he brushed the tip of his nose against yours, “most people answer serious conversations with actual words.”

You smiled, your eyes fluttering shut as a wave of absolute bliss washed over you, leaning into him. “Luckily for you, most people aren’t married to me.”

He let out a breathless chuckle, his lips grazing yours with the movement.

 “Yeah,” he whispered, his eyes dropping to your mouth in a self induced trance. “Incredibly lucky.”

The trace of his smile vanished before the sudden reminder that the two of you were entirely alone, and perfectly hidden away in a secluded hot spring at the very edge of the world.

Water crested over your shoulders as his hand spanned the curve of your waist, erasing the last inch of space until you were resting against his lap.

“Your chosen way of answering is incredibly tempting, Fire Lady.”

“Is it, Fire Lord?” you questioned, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes.

“You have no idea.”

You found his lips again, unable to repress a needy moan the second your mouths met. The sound only seemed to undo his remaining restraint, prompting him to pull you impossibly closer until there wasn't a single inch of space left between your bodies. 

Your hands slid down his neck to his broad chest you loved so much, and your palms caressed the hard plane of his muscles beneath the water, your hips moving with an involuntary tilt against him.

Zuko let out a moan against your lips, his hand traveling up from your shoulder to cradle the curve of your throat. He didn't squeeze, but the pressure of his palm against your racing pulse made you feel like you were burning from the inside out.

His other hand traveled down from your waist, his fingers tracing path along the side of your breast before his mouth abruptly left yours. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, pressing a row of kisses against your skin while his hand moved to afford him room.

He went lower. His lips closed over the breast his hand had only teased, sucking while his tongue flicked across your nipple. You gasped and pressed his head closer with both hands, one gripping his shoulder and the other tangled in his hair.

“Zuko, please,” you breathed.

The hand at your waist slid beneath the water. He gripped his cock, stroking once before guiding the head to your entrance. His other hand tightened at your throat just enough to pull you down. You sank onto him, pausing twice to adjust to the stretch. A broken moan left you once you were fully seated with his length buried deep inside.

“Are you alright?” he asked against your cheek.

You answered with a shaky nod and jagged breaths. Once the burn eased into pleasure, you began to move. 

Your hips rose and fell, water rippling around you. His hand started to venture from your throat. You intercepted him, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and pulling his hand firmly back into place. He smiled darkly and his fingers spread wide against your neck, applying just enough heavy pressure to anchor you down as he drove you into a faster, harder rhythm.

Every drop of your hips forced his cock deeper, the thick stretch dragging against your walls until your vision blurred. The surface of the water churned and bubbled from the heat radiating off both of you, steam rising in thick white sheets until the air itself felt heavy and wet against your skin.

You let out a shaky and breathless laugh, your pace never faltering. “Are you trying to boil us alive?” you gasped, leaning down to press your forehead to his.

Zuko didn't laugh. His head fell heavily into the crook of your neck where another moan build up, his fingers sinking into the skin of your hips to keep you in place.

“Don't joke right now,” he ground out, as his body trembled beneath yours. “Not when you’re doing this to me. Keep moving.”

You leaned into the pressure, chasing the dizzying rush it gave you. Your pussy clenched tight around him with every thrust. Sweat trickled down your spine and between your breasts even as the spring soaked your skin.

“That’s it,” he growled against your ear. 

Your hips kept jerking and grinding as the coil in your belly wound tighter and tighter. Zuko’s cock hit that perfect spot again and again until your whole body seized. 

You spasmed hard around him, pulsing and squeezing in rhythmic waves as the orgasm crashed through you. Your thighs trembled. Your back arched, pressing your chest to his while your inner walls fluttered and milked his length.

Zuko held you through it, grip firm at your throat and hip, letting you ride out every last shudder. Only when your body finally went limp against him did he release your throat. 

His mouth crashed onto yours, tongue sliding against yours as he stood in one smooth motion. 

Water poured off both of you. His hands hooked beneath your thighs and lifted you without ever pulling out, keeping you impaled on his cock as he carried you from the spring, steam still coming off of your overheated skin.

The cool island breeze hit you for only a fraction of a second before he set you down over the thick blankets, carefully positioning you right in the center of the plush layout. As he hovered over you, you couldn't help but notice that his messy bun had somehow remained intact through all of it.

You reached up, both of your hands framing the sides of his head to draw him down.

“You know what the funny thing is?” you asked, your voice catching as you briefly pressed your eyes shut, your fingers tightening in his hair at the overwhelming sensation of him sliding deeper inside of you on your position.

“Hm?” he murmured, his breath hitching as he braced his weight over you.

“You keep talking about the crown like it’s something terrible that just happened to me.”

Zuko frowned as he leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

“... but it did.”

You shook your head against the pillow, looking up into his eyes. 

“No. You forget I knew exactly who you were when I chose you... I knew you even before the throne.”

You locked your fingers behind his neck, pulling him down so his chest would be against yours, dragging deliciously against you with every move, and making you both moan from the skin to skin feeling.

“Becoming the Fire Lord, the crushing responsibilities, the endless meetings and impossible schedules... of course, nothing could’ve truly prepared me for the reality of it. But none of that matters. Not when you’ve held my hand through every single second of it.” You spoke. “And if I had the chance to go back to the very beginning and do it all over again…”

You leaned up, tilting your head to press an adoring kiss directly against the rough skin of his scarred cheek.

“… it’s going to sound cheesy, but, I would still choose you, Zuko. No doubt at all.”

He froze completely, his breath catching in his throat as his brow twitched.

He gave you a breathtakingly vulnerable smile.

"You have no idea what hearing you say that does to me," he said. His large hands slid down to pin your hips firmly into the blankets. "If you keep talking to me like that, I'm never going to let you leave."

"That’s alright," you said, moving so you’d lock your ankles behind his waist. "I don't really plan on going anywhere."

Abandoning all hesitation, he leaned down to capture your lips once again. Tongue gliding deep to taste every corner of your mouth while his hips began a measured roll.

Zuko kept his chest pressed to yours, the solid weight of him pinning you to the blankets without crushing. His breath came out in visible wisps, mingling with the steam rising from your joined bodies.

He broke the kiss only long enough to murmur against your lips,“I love you,” before sealing the words with another slow grind of his hips.

“I love you, Zuko,” you replied as your heels rested against the small of his back while he moved. The angle let him sink fully each time, the base of his cock brushing your clit on every downward stroke.

Your fingers slid into his hair, careful not to disturb the bun, and tugged gently. The small pull earned another moan from him. Pleasure coiled tighter with every pass, your inner walls fluttering around him.

“Don’t stop,” you gasped out, winding your arms tighter around his shoulders.

Zuko let out a low breath, his gaze fixing on yours with absolute adoration. “I wouldn’t dare,” he ground out, his thumb caressing your cheek. “Look at what you do to me— spirits, you're perfect.”

His hand slid beneath your lower back, lifting your hips so he could drive even deeper. The new angle made your breath hitch, a broken sound escaping you that he swallowed with another kiss. His own breathing grew ragged, and he whispered your name between kisses with need.

Your climax crashed through you, inner walls clamping down around his cock as you cried out his name. The sound and feeling triggered his own release; Zuko groaned loudly, hips stuttering as he spilled deep inside you, cock throbbing with each spurt of cum. Both of you moaned through the shared peak, bodies locked together, breath steaming between your mouths.

He stayed buried inside you for a moment, forehead pressed to yours and still breathing hard.

When you felt like the shocks were coming down from your body, Zuko had you sit up. His hand reached up to his head, and with a quick tug, he finally undid the messy bun, letting his dark hair fall completely loose around his face. He started to maneuver himself lower onto the covers until he could drape your legs over his shoulders.

You looked down at him, breathless. “I don’t think I can do this again…”

He hooked his hands behind the back of your knees, pulling you forward until you were hovering right over his face. Looking up at you, Zuko parted his lips with anticipation, thumb stroking your thighs as he drank in the sight of you, his mouth seemed to be watering for a taste.

“You’re the Fire Lady, there are no impossibles for you” he affirmed in a rough voice. His hot breath washed over your damp skin, making you shiver as his eyes locked onto yours. “Move however you please…”

Zuko’s fingers dug into your thighs as he pulled you down onto his waiting mouth. His tongue dragged through your slick folds in one hungry stroke before sealing over your clit. A low groan vibrated against you, sending a tremor of heat snapping up your spine. His hands slid up the backs of your legs, fingers splaying wide to keep you steady while his lips sealed around the sensitive bundle of nerves over and over again. 

“Right there,” you said, one palm stayed braced against the slick stone lip of the nearby spring while the other cupped the back of his skull, holding him exactly where you needed. 

You moved faster, grinding down, chasing the sharp edge that built low in your belly. Every breath came shorter. 

Heat built fast. Your firebending stirred without conscious thought as bubbles rose in sudden bursts from the pool. The water in the spring churned, giving off a thick, blinding cloud of condensation that rolled upward in waves, filling every corner of the space in response to the flare inside you.

Zuko’s hands slid higher, palms hot on your ass, urging you to take what you needed. You moved faster, riding his mouth with growing urgency. His nose brushed your clit with every forward rock while his tongue thrust deep, drinking every drop you gave him.

“Spirits…”, you gasped, feeling his hands going up your chest. 

The pressure coiled again. Your thighs trembled around his head. You leaned harder on the spring’s, knuckles whitening. Your fingers threaded deeper into his hair, gripping the strands as you rocked forward, guiding the angle until the flat of his tongue met your clit with each pass.

You locked down, completely undone as the climax ripped through you. Your thighs clamped tight around his jaw, trapping him in your scorching heat. You could only gasp as your body buckled again and again under the relentless strokes of his tongue.

Zuko kept licking steadily until the tremors eased and your grip on his hair loosened. Only then did his hands ease their hold, letting you sink back onto your heels above him, breath still ragged and skin flushed from the combined heat of the springs and your own doing.

Exhausted, you moved off him, settling back down right next to him on top of the thick blankets. The moment you were at his side, Zuko rolled over and pulled you against his chest. His long arms wrapped around you, shielding your naked skin from the cool island breeze while he buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply.

You let out a luxurious sigh while melting into his solid chest. "I’d have this every day if I could," you murmured, pressing a lazy kiss to his collarbone.

Zuko let out a hum against your skin, a sound of unbothered satisfaction.

"But sadly," you teased, tracing a line down his chest, "we have to go back eventually."

He didn't even open his eyes. He just shook his head against your cheek. “Not yet. As far as I know, everyone’s minding their own business. And if we get back now, we’d be interrupting them.”

 ”You have a point…”

Propping your chin on his chest, you looked up taking in the sight of him. The fierce and rigid lines of the Fire Lord had completely melted away, replaced by an expression so serene it felt sacred. A rosy warmth still stained his cheeks, and his dark hair fell in loose waves across his forehead. He looked utterly striking like this: unraveled and at peace.

Glancing past him, you looked around the secluded clearing, your fingers smoothing over the fabric beneath you.

“The blankets are so comfortable, though. I wonder if the rest of the secluded springs have them…”

His eyes flickered open.

”I wouldn’t wonder if I were you,” he murmured, his fingers caressed the small of your back. ”Instead, I’d stay with my husband, and not question why we have them.”

You blinked. Your eyes dropped to the heavy fabric beneath your hands, tracing the intricate, familiar gold stitching running along the rich crimson border. It was a pattern you knew by heart: the exact weave used for the private linens inside the Caldera palace.

"Oh, of course you would," you gasped, a wide smile breaking across your face as you nudged his chest. "You set them up!"

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," he replied , the warmth in his eyes giving him away. He pulled you up until his lips could graze yours in a fiercely loving kiss. "But since we're here, and the blankets are so comfortable... I suggest you take advantage of it."

𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚

By the time the two of you finally made your way down the cliffside path and stepped back through the front door of the cabin, the quiet sanctuary you had left that morning was completely gone. In its place, was a wall of chaotic noise echoing straight out of the kitchen.

You and Zuko paused in the doorway, radiating the serene, heavy-lidded bliss of people who (momentarily, at least) hadn't a single care in the world as you took in the absolute disaster happening over the kitchen table.

"For the last time, Sokka, we need to pack!" Katara’s voice shrieked, her hands thrown in the air as she glared at her brother. "The fish won’t be able to cook outside as quick, the ship is already half-loaded, and we leave in a few hours!"

"And I am telling you that fish is, in fact, better cooked outside!" Sokka yelled back, brandishing an oversized wooden spatula like a sword. "It’s a traditional island recipe! We are eating outside for the sake of the last day!"

"But Aang can’t even eat fish!" Katara countered, gesturing to where Aang was sitting on a stool.

"I can’t bend and I still hang out with you guys!" Sokka shouted, slamming his spatula onto the counter. "So we are going outside!”

Aang raised a timid hand. "I wouldn't mind a roasted fire-root outside—"

"Not now, Aang!" Katara and Sokka snapped in unison.

Suki was leaning against the pantry eating a sea-plum, looking highly amused by the sibling rivalry.

"What exactly is the issue here?" Zuko’s voice cut through the noise. His hair was bundled back up, but it was visibly damp, and his aura was so peaceful it practically glowed.

The kitchen went dead silent for a fraction of a second as everyone turned to look at the two of you.

"Oh, fantastic," Katara sighed, marching over to you. "Tell them we are staying inside to finish organizing our things while we eat."

"Whoa, whoa, side with the chef!" Sokka interjected, stepping up next to Zuko and nudging his arm. "Zuko, buddy, fellow guy. Tell her the outdoor fire pit is the only logical place to spend our final morning."

You looked at Zuko. "Well... Sokka did catch the fish, right?” Sokka nodded “And it does cook better outside…”

"Yes! Thank you!" Sokka cheered.

"Absolutely not," Zuko countered, throwing you a look before turning to Sokka. "Katara is right. If we don't pack now, our arrival to the capital could be delayed. We eat inside."

"You're taking her side?!" Sokka gasped, wounded. "Suki, back me up!"

"I really don’t mind, honey," Suki laughed, tossing a plum pit into the bin. "But inside is cooler anyway."

"Aang?!" Sokka yelled desperately.

"I just want a squash!" Aang cried.

Within three seconds, the kitchen erupted into absolute chaos. Everyone was talking over each other, Katara was lecturing Zuko about time importance to which he agreed, Sokka was screaming at Suki about loyalty, Aang was trying to defend his squash, and you were laughing so hard you had to lean against Zuko's shoulder, while he stubbornly tried to maintain his "rational leader" voice amidst the shouting.

Suddenly, the heavy wooden door to the side hallway slammed open against the wall with enough force to shake the floorboards.

The arguing stopped.

Toph stood in the frame, looking like demon raised from the underworld. Her hair was a wild, bird's-nest tangle, her eyes were narrowed, and her face was pale and fiercely twisted with the rage of a catastrophic hangover. The sheer menace radiating off her made Sokka slowly lower his spatula.

She marched two steps into the kitchen, her gaze locking dead-on into the center of the room.

“Listen up, you repetitive dunderheads! I have an idea: if you got laid today, you don't get a vote!" she roared in her sleep-deprived voice.

Katara’s jaw dropped, her face turning a violent shade of crimson. Sokka blinked, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Beside you, Zuko froze completely, his eyes widening in panicked blankness as a bright red blush instantly rushed up his neck and flooded his cheeks. You quickly cleared your throat, finding the pattern on the kitchen floor absolutely fascinating all of the sudden…

Toph let the horrific silence stretch for a few seconds, satisfied with the compliance she had just beaten into the room.

She let out a grunt, crossing her arms. 

"Great. My ears are bleeding, and you all sound like screeching turtle-ducks. I say outside. Let's go and don't complain."

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and marched right out the back door toward the fire pit.

Sokka cleared his throat, raised his spatula, and whispered, "...So, outside it is."

𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚

The outdoor clearing was a welcome relief from the suffocating awkwardness Toph had left behind in the kitchen. The bright midday sun warmed the grass, Appa was sprawled lazily near the edge of the yard, letting out a low, rumbling groan of satisfaction as Momo ate some fruit Aang gave him right between Appa’s giant ears.

Sokka, fully vindicated by the hangover dictatorship, was beaming with joy. He quickly got the fire pit roaring, utilizing a controlled spark from Zuko to get the volcanic coal glowing.

Within twenty minutes, everyone was settled around the pit on low stone benches and woven mats. Sokka proudly handed out the crispy fish to Suki, Katara, and yourself, while sliding a massive platter of roasted fire-root, seasoned squash, and sea-prunes over to Aang. Toph sat flat on the earth, her eyes closed with her forehead against a smooth stone she had earthbent up from the ground just for that purpose.

"Drink this, Toph. It'll help," Katara said, sliding a wooden mug filled with a steaming herbal brew a few feet away. "It's a Water Tribe remedy for... overindulgence."

Too lazy to physically reach for it, Toph kept her forehead pressed against the rock and lazily extended two fingers toward the ground, sliding the cup across the grass and directly into her waiting palm.

She peeled her face off the cool stone and sat down cross-legged on her mat, sniffing the brew. She gagged at first, but took a massive gulp anyway. A bit of color returned to her pale cheeks. She grabbed a skewer of roasted squash from the platter, taking an aggressive bite as if punishing the vegetable for her headache.

You leaned into Zuko’s side watching it all happen while happily finishing your lunch and enjoying of your friend’s company. 

“So," Suki started, leaning her chin in her hand. "Since this is our absolute last day together on the island before we all go back our respective duties around the world, we need to do something fun. No scheduling talk allowed!”

“Ooh, I know!" Aang chimed in. "We used to play a game at the Southern Air Temple during festival mornings. You take turns naming a scenario and everyone points at the person who is most likely to do it."

"A pointing game?" Sokka chewed thoughtfully. "Simple. Elegant. Excellent potential for judging each other. I'm in!”

“I can't see where any of you are pointing," Toph muttered, "so this game already sucks."

“Wait, scratch the pointing!" You interrupted. "Instead of pointing, we can stomp. One heavy stomp on the ground toward whoever you're voting for. Toph can feel the vibrations and tally the scores.”

A grin spread across her face.

“Now that is a game. Proceed."

“Alright, I'll start," Suki chuckled, looking around the circle. "Who is most likely to completely lose a top-secret state document because they used it as a bookmark?"

Without a single second of hesitation, a synchronized chorus of heavy thuds rattled the dirt.

Toph burst into a loud laugh, pointing a finger straight at Sokka. "Five distinct seismic waves, all hitting you dead-on, Snoozles. The dirt doesn't lie."

"Hey!" Sokka protested, outraged. "First of all, it was one map! And second of all, it made a perfect bookmark for my poetry journal!"

"You rest your case," Katara laughed, taking a sip of water. 

“Your turn, Fire Lady," Aang said, leaning forward eagerly as he tossed a piece of melon into the air, which Momo swooped down from Appa's head to catch mid-flight.

You hummed, tapping your chin playfully before glancing down at your husband. "Who is most likely to secretly spend three hours meticulously planning a romantic gesture, but then act like it was totally an accident and they 'just happened' to find it?"

Katara and Suki slammed their heels down, sending two enthusiastic thuds straight toward Zuko.

Toph didn’t even wait for the rest. She let out a cackle, slapping the ground. "Oh, the dirt is practically screaming! Sparky, give us a stomp, what’s your defense?"

Zuko, who had just taken a sip of his tea, choked slightly. He looked away, his boot remaining guiltily still.

"I have no idea what that implies," Zuko mumbled.

"Oh, come on, that's definitely a Zuko special," Sokka teased, leaning across the fire pit. "Next thing you know, he'll 'accidentally' stumble into a perfectly catered five-course banquet in the middle of the courtyard."

"Shut up, Sokka," Zuko said, with no real heat in it.

“Alright, my turn," Toph said, leaning her head to the side. "Who is most likely to try and make friends with a dangerous, wild spirit creature just because they think it looks 'misunderstood'?"

A singular, incredibly loud, stomp shook the ground as every single voted instantly.

"Twinkle Toes! The earth didn't even hesitate. You're practically a magnet for weird monsters."

"They aren't weird monsters!" Aang protested. "They're just expressive! If you give them some space and don't make any sudden movements, they're actually really friendly…”

“That’s so cute! Okay, my turn," Suki said, to keep the momentum going. "Who is most likely to accidentally set a kitchen on fire while trying to cook a simple midnight snack?"

Aang and Katara stomped toward Toph. Sokka and Toph stomped right back toward Suki. You and Zuko looked at each other and stomp-voted for Toph as well.

"Why am I getting voted?" Toph complained, kicking a pebble into the fire pit. "I can cook!"

"Toph, you tried to roast a tea-leaf on a hot stone inside the cabin when we arrived and almost burned the curtains down," Suki laughed.

"The rock was hotter than I thought!" Toph grumbled, taking another gulp of Katara's hangover tea.

“Alright, let me ask one," Katara said. Her hand coming to rest against her rounded stomach as a knowing smile spread across her face. She looked around the circle. "Since I'm already carrying the first of the next generation... who do we think is most likely to have a baby next?"

The ground practically groaned under the collective force of the stamps. Katara, Suki, Aang, and Toph all kicked their heels down with absolute certainty, every single vibration pointing directly into the space between you and Zuko.

“The Fire Lords, it is,” Toph announced.

Your heart skipped a beat. A wave of heat rushed to your face, and you quickly tried to laugh it off, holding your hands up.

"Come on, guys!" you said quickly, a little flustered. “You only want to tease…”

“I don’t want to tease, I think you both would be wonderful parents!” Suki said, her eyes filled with genuine sincerity.

"Yeah, plus, the baby would have a built-in Air Nomad playground whenever you visit," Aang offered enthusiastically.

"And I can always help you watch them when things get too busy at the palace," Katara added, a sweet smile on her face. "Though if they inherit both of your firebending, I might need to keep a water-whip ready just to put out the sparks…”

"Oh, they'll definitely inherit the legendary Fire Lord temper," Sokka joked, earning a swift jab to the ribs from Suki.

Your chest tightened with a nervous flutter under all the attention. You glanced sideways at Zuko, tracking the sharp line of his jaw and bracing for the familiar tensing of his shoulders.

You half-expected him to shift uncomfortably to avoid the heavy weight of royal lineages and future heirs. Instead, his shoulders remained dropped and relaxed in the midday sun. A genuine smile played on his lips. His eyes met yours. Without a word, his large hand slide over yours, his thumb tracing a circle over the back of your knuckles.

“We have time," Zuko said, his fingers squeezed yours in reassurance. "But... I think we'd be ready when it happens. And, apparently, all of you too…”

Before Suki or Katara could let out the squeak you knew they were holding, Toph snorted.

“Everyone speaks for themselves. I only talk with evidence. And if we're talking about stomps, I felt some very specific vibrations coming from the upper hot springs early on…”

Instead, the squeak came out from Sokka.

Zuko looked like he wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole.

“Do you realize that, if we're talking about a future Fire Nation heir, I am the cause of it? Without me, they wouldn't have relaxed!” He said, shaking Suki's shoulders. “They would still be drowning in endless scrolls back at the palace!"

The entire circle burst into laughter. Katara threw a piece of squash at her brother's head, which he expertly ducked.

"Oh, please, Sokka," Suki laughed, catching a stray blossom drifting down from a nearby tree. "The only thing you masterminded was getting a light hangover from a couple of island juices."

"It was the salt air!" Sokka defended himself.

"I don't know," Toph chimed in, leaning her head back with a grin. "If the Fire Lord's kid turns out to be an over-scheduler who loves weapon maintenance, we'll know exactly who to blame."

"I would welcome a child with an appreciation for proper weapon care," Zuko mumbled. He was openly chuckling.

“I think you’re right, though…” you started saying, earning a shocked look from everyone and a head tilt from Toph.

“About the fake summit, I mean!” Everyone relaxed, especially Zuko to your side which made you smile. “Look around. We actually did it. No councils, no global disasters. Just us… In fact, this calls for a real toast, because this time together was... really, really enjoyable. And Zuko and I owe it to all of you.”

“Or to the SOKA summit…” Sokka suggested, a massive grin on his face as he proudly raised his wooden skewer and his mug into the air.

Suki laughed, standing up to raise her cup next to his. Katara and Aang joined in, their faces lit with joy, and even Toph raised her hangover brew with a lazy smirk.

You raised your own cup. Zuko clinked his cup of tea against yours.

"To the SOKA Summit!" everyone cheered in a chaotic yet happy chorus, the sound of laughter echoing beautifully out over the island cliffs.

𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚

The afternoon seemed to slip away far too quickly after that. One moment everyone was still sitting around the embers of the fire pit, and the next, Appa had been loaded, the cabin had been swept clean, and the Fire Nation sailors were making the final preparations down at the harbor.

Nobody wanted to be the first person to acknowledge that the retreat was officially over… So, naturally, Sokka did.

“Well,” he announced dramatically, throwing his travel bag over one shoulder as everyone reached the wooden docks. “I think it’s safe to say the summit was an overwhelming success and nothing ridiculous, contrary to popular belief…”

A collective groan rippled through the group.

“It was a success, but it was also a little ridiculous,” Katara pointed out, carrying a small satchel.

“Great leaders leave a legacy, Katara,” Sokka countered, puffing his chest out. “Mine is, amongst other numerous things, this amazing trip.”

Everyone paused at the ramp of the ship, turning back to look up at the green cliffs of Whaletail Island one last time. 

The air was warm, the tide was peaceful, and a heavy wave of nostalgia suddenly settled over.

“We should come back,” Aang said, his grey eyes reflecting the brilliant blue of the ocean.

“Maybe next year,” Katara agreed, her hand resting over her stomach with a hopeful smile.

Suki chuckled, nudging Sokka’s arm. “Without a collapsing shrine next time, maybe?”

“With less juice,” Toph grumbled, she was leaning comfortably against Suki’s side.

“And with more fish,” Sokka amended.

One by one, everyone began to board the ship.

As the vessel finally pulled away from the docks, the sails caught a perfect, steady wind. The distance grew, and the island began to shrink against the backdrop of the midday sky.

Up at the bow, Aang and Katara stood close together, watching the water part against the hull. Nearby, Sokka was already holding a map, explaining a "more efficient" naval route to Suki, who was listening with an affectionate smile lighting up her face. A few feet away, Toph was sitting on the wooden deck, her eyes closed as she soaked up the sun, pretending she wasn’t listening to a single word of Sokka's rambling.

Standing beside Zuko at the railing, you leaned against the wooden barrier and just watched them.

Nobody was in a hurry. There was no looming emergency, no high-stakes meeting, no war, no political crisis, no frantic scheduling. Just the rocking of the sea and the familiar sound of your friends' voices.

“They’re happy,” you murmured.

Zuko glanced over at you, the ocean breeze catching his dark hair. “Who?”

You looked back toward the group, with a smile at your lips.

“All of them!”

Zuko’s gaze followed yours, tracing the chaotic, loud, but beloved family sprawled across the deck.

“Yeah,” Zuko said, his voice dropping into that tender tone meant only for you. His large hand slid sideways along the railing, his fingers between yours. “They are.”

“You know, we will be able to come back again,” Zuko muttered after a moment.

“At least Sokka won’t have to make up a whole diplomatic event to get us to come next time," you replied, a laugh bubbling up as you looked at him. "We cannot let that happen again, even if it was funny… we have to remain close to our family.”

Zuko smiled as he turned toward you, his free hand coming up to cup your jaw, his thumb wiping a stray strand of hair from your cheek before he leaned down to press a kiss against your lips. When he pulled back just enough to lean his forehead against yours, his arm slid around your waist to bring you closer.

"We will," he murmured. "I promise."

You rested your head against his shoulder as Whaletail Island slowly disappeared into the horizon behind you.

Ahead of you waited the palace with the councils, endless stacks of scrolls, and the overwhelming responsibilities that came with the lives you had chosen to live…

But for now, your friends were laughing somewhere behind you, Zuko’s hand remained intertwined with yours, and for the first time in a very, very long time, going home didn’t feel quite so heavy.

𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚

note: thank you for visiting whaletail island! ♡ — this little series became such a comfort project for me, and saying goodbye to it feels a bit like leaving a vacation i wasn’t ready to end.

along the way, i ended up developing quite a bit of backstory for this specific version of the reader and zuko’s relationship, and i’d absolutely love to explore more of it again sometime soon…

thank you for reading and coming along for the ride. whaletail island expects your return, until next time! xx

You'd woken up with it your first morning in the Razor Crest. The soft hum of it was hard to locate at first. You lacked the tools to deactivate them. You were as sharp as a whip with technology. 

A skill you wouldn’t use in a long time since you were taken. 

He had plans. He wanted to find a home planet. Preferably somewhere adequate to raise his children and continue his life with you. The holopad he conspicuously left out in the hull while he was out one evening was full of data files on hundreds of mid-rim planets.

Most of the planets he landed on were among those in the holos. They were safe, quiet, and isolated. Once you had found the pad, he checked which images you would stare at the longest, which descriptions you would read with rapt attention.

He shakes his head remembering the first thing you did with the holopad. Immediately locating the communications feature and finding it disabled, the transmitter chip at the back of the device thoughtfully missing. 

He would watch as you would glance outside of the ship, your stare would wander often when the ramp was open. You clearly had a preference. Your eyes would glimmer in regions with cooler temperatures, lots of trees, deciduous and changing with the seasons.

You dozed off to the soft sounds of animal chirps and rainfall when he would leave for a bounty. 

By the fifth month of your Razor Crest residency, he lost his patience. He thought finding a planet would come easier. Some were perfect but the people were too hostile. For some, the people were peaceful but the planet was too unpredictable. 

He was tired of your lack of communication. The moment you were alone with him, the room grew deadly silent. The only sounds that would react to him were of Grogu, coincidentally the only person you willingly interacted with. 

Despite this, you were still pliant. Your pregnancy had made you sick early on. He’d make you food, soothe your back, bring you ginger tea and other higher quality rations he’d use extra credits on to make sure you were comfortable. 

He started to condition you to get used to his presence; the way he could make you feel. If only you would give him easier leverage.

You would often hear him pleasuring himself, murmuring about how you looked so beautiful carrying his child. How you would look so pretty all cock-dumb and fucked out over his bed in a real home.

You would try to sleep after, but you couldn’t help but think of the way wetness dampened your underwear and how a part of you thinks back on how he pleased you back in your home. Before you realized his plan to take you.

You’d stare half awake at the panels above you. Shifting uncomfortably against the small bunk that only seemed to get smaller as your belly grew.

He broke the silence one day as he was making portions. He stated how he had enough credits to buy an isolated cottage near farmland, of which planet, he didn’t say. Sleeping Grogu was taken out of your arms and tucked into his metal bassinet. With a press of a button it was closed shut, leaving you alone with 'Din'.

You'd spoken directly to him a couple of times since your kidnapping. He revealed his name to you the day you had woken up. Despite your anger, the fear, and the desperation to be free, you often caught yourself thinking of it.

Who would have known a bounty hunter to have such a simple name. You loathe the fact you would have chuckled in any other circumstance. 

You blinked up at him in confusion as the baby's pram closed shut. He sighs wistfully. As he sat down on the blankets and pillows he set up on the floor as a makeshift common area in the Crest, he reached for your hand.

You let him pull you down against him. He’s strong enough so that he could position you any way he wants without your assistance. He pulls his helmet off, the magnetic connection between it and his flightsuit hisses as it deactivates. He motions for you to pick up the plate of food he set on the small wooden tea table he had found in a market somewhere.

“We’ll be home soon,” he soothes as you eat slowly in his lap, pieces of his armor digging into your body. His cuirass was cold behind you, making you shiver. 

You look back at him, eyes blank. He just smiles and caresses your cheek briefly with a swipe of his thumb, a slight chuckle escaping him at your ‘pout’. His hands skim over your tunic and stop on the swell of your belly, lightly tracing it up and down with the tips of his fingers.

He cups the underside of the bump, his nose pressing against the side of your neck.

Your defeat was present from the beginning. You never fought back, barely argued. Things couldn't have gotten much worse than life in your village, barely able to make it through a work shift without passing out from dehydration or starvation.

Chills run down your spine and goosebumps start to rise. He holds you against his chest for a couple of minutes, urging you to continue eating. Breathing in the scent of your hair and lightly caressing your belly.

Then his hands move further down to caress over your mound, you shiver. A shot of pleasure goes up your spine. He continues to ‘accidentally’ rub against you in between his praises of how well of a mother you’ve been, especially to Grogu, whenever he was gone.

You were throbbing by the time you were done with the portions, mumbling that you were full to excuse yourself away from the table. 

That prompted him to ask you to feed him spoonfuls in return. He didn’t want to put anything to waste. It felt very intimate, especially with the way he loudly chewed next to your ear and groaned as if he were eating something gourmet, almost mimicking the sounds he made when he last had you in your bedroom back in your home planet, his mouth to your cunt.

The baby gave a sudden cry in his pram, you were grateful for the respite, especially as Din was starting to graze over your inner thighs to spread them. You excuse yourself to the restroom and curse yourself. It was the hormones, it had to be. You shouldn’t be this affected by his gentle touches otherwise.

He’s been doing the same technique for a little over a month afterwards. Grazing over your ass as he walked by, ‘accidentally' cupping your breasts and lightly squeezing as he mewled over your bump. Having you sit over his erection whenever you ate 'together' and the baby was napping in his soundproofed pod.

You hate the way your body responds to a simple touch on the shoulder and jumps to imagining him thrusting into you against the side of the hull.

It gets worse when you are finally 'home'. He was able to get his hands on a small cottage. It was far from the other housing units in the town, not quite secluded but not as neighborly. Despite the isolation, he didn’t allow you to even step outside the door. He said it was too dangerous.

You questioned him, considering you were a long way from other people. He never answered. Instead, he would hold you close to him and reassure you that it was safer for you and the baby.

Grogu was off to school, taken by his father almost every day. He wasn’t fussing constantly over him.

The one positive from being stuck ‘home’ was that he was barely there. You rarely had moments where he would make you want to rip his armor off and feel his skin on yours like the months before.

You had more time for yourself. To acclimate to the sudden shift in your center of gravity as your seventh month of your unexpected pregnancy began.

He was often away to earn credits working odd jobs. He'd leave you with the promise that soon, if you complied instead of ignoring all of his advances at becoming a family, you too would accompany him out one day.

He didn’t like the idea of keeping you as if you were a nanny to his children. Just a doll he could stare at and fondle. It was unbecoming of him and yourself.

But because you were currently pregnant and you didn’t reciprocate his kisses and affection, he thought it was best to keep you where you were. You had enough time alone to think about ways to escape, but with your growing condition the thought was dissipating quickly. You felt tired, nauseous, heavy. Your feet were swollen and even thinking of the months to come made you dread even thinking of being alone. In some sick way the bastard has debilitated you in this form.

Though that didn’t stop him from praising you. He likes to watch as you start to waddle around, chasing after his son, now yours, and play with him. Pride surges in his chest when he watches Grogu pat your stomach in question and you softly explain how there was a tiny person growing inside.

“The villagers have been asking for you,” he says one night, his shoulder leaning against the doorway to the restroom as you apply cream to your face in front of the mirror above the sink. 

You hum absentmindedly, looking anywhere but the reflection as he steps closer behind, wrapping his arms around you. 

“Is that so?” you question sarcastically. He ignores your tone.

“Mm.” He slumps over you, resting his head on top of yours. His eyes lower to your stomach and his brows furrow.

Skimming past your third trimester you outgrew all of your old clothes, including those of the man behind you. His stare made you fidget. You feel embarrassed as you try to tug the tunic as far down as it can go. A sliver of your skin still peaks through.

Tears well and blur your vision, you try to look away from his now worried gaze. Your hands move to cover your face as sudden emotion floods through your body, an unstoppable wobble from your lips gives you away. He stops your hands from hiding your face quickly, asking you what was wrong.

“My clothes don’t fit,” you whine. You think of how stupid you must sound. The way you could be thinking of many other worse things that he’s done to you, and you think to complain about this.

“I’m so big. I'm just so...,” you sigh weakly, hands fluttering over your body in an exasperated gesture. His grip tightens on your hands reassuringly and he presses a kiss to the side of your head.

He’s always liked his women with meat on their bones. He liked the thought that your body was changing because of him. Seeing you now, insinuating that you're not the most beautiful creation the maker has ever made, made his eyes twitch in irritation. Not at you, of course, but of the way you view yourself, of how people may have led you to believe.

In his culture women are respected as if they were goddesses. They are the foundations of their kind. Seeing you now look at yourself in disdain made him feel like a failure. He failed to take care of you as a spouse should.

All because he never touched you properly, fully and with his full intentions, he thinks. He's teased you for months, never going farther than a few raunchy touches.

He kisses up your neck and you freeze. His hands wander downward, under your stretchy maternity pants and underwear. His hand was so large that you could see it straining the seams of your pajamas.

“You’re beautiful,” he says as he flicks his wrist to palm over your mound, grinding it against you. You gasp as he continues, watching over you through the mirror as you twitch and lean your back further into his chest.

You sigh shakily as he inserts a thick finger inside of you. Then another as your eyes close shut tightly. The sound of your slick cunt resounds around the small room, your hand makes its way behind his head, pushing his mouth against your neck and shoulder.

He nips and sucks, groaning as he feels your walls squeeze around him. His palm grinds down harder, a quicker rhythm that makes his hand sticky with your arousal. He presses his pelvis forward, allowing you to feel the outline of his cock against the plushness of your ass. 

He brings you to climax easily. Your legs threaten to collapse but he catches you.

The rest of the night he praised your body, your caring personality. Often mentioning how you would be such a caring mother to your next child and children.

You were barely awake and on the verge of passing out. You felt as if you exerted yourself trying to keep up with his burning touches. You don’t think you’ve ever been cared for as much as you have been with him.

“Tomorrow we’re going into town to get tunics.”

He presses himself against your back maneuvering a pillow under your body which lays on its side.

He finally presses a kiss to your lips as he pushes a strand of hair from your face. He smiles as he sees you respond back weakly, your eyes closed and lips slack in a light pucker.

--------------------

I'll upload parts every Wednesday! Next one will have actual full-length smut. I'm a tease, I suppose.

Love at First Sight Masterlist

Taglist (hopefully it works chat):

@vanessalovesonedirection

The acolytes carried small, hooded lanterns whose light bounced across the path, but the deeper they moved into the cliffs, the less useful the flames seemed to become. Shadows stretched strangely between the rocks, swallowing whole sections of the trail before giving them back.

Zuko’s hand brushed yours. Your fingers found his without a second thought.

“So much for a peaceful evening.”

You glanced toward him.

“We had almost an entire day.”

“A personal record.”

You smiled sideways. His thumb brushed once across the back of your hand.

“You alright?”

You squeezed his hand.

“Are you?”

“Ask me again after we deal with the potentially angry spirit.”

“Fair.”

The entrance to the caverns appeared. A jagged opening split the cliff face, half-hidden behind curtains of moss and mineral-stained stone. Ancient carvings framed the archway, worn smooth by centuries of salt and wind. Some of them looked damaged.

Zuko slowed. You watched his head follow a fracture running directly through one of the carvings.

Fresh damage.

The older acolyte noticed where he was looking.

“We found that three weeks ago.”

Zuko crouched beside the broken stone, brushing his fingers over the cracked surface.

“Construction tools.”

The acolyte nodded.

“The lower harbor expansion team broke through part of the outer tunnels.”

Aang frowned.

“They continued working after finding a shrine?”

The younger acolyte exchanged a glance with his companion.

“We don’t know if they understood what they’d found.”

“Someone should have,” Katara said.

Toph stepped past them and pressed her bare foot against the stone floor near the entrance.

“What?” Suki asked.

Toph remained still for another second.

“The island feels wrong.”

Toph tilted her head.

“Not dangerous wrong…,” she said before she pointed deeper into the darkness. “Something’s moving underneath us.”

Somewhere beyond the reach of the firelight, water echoed through the caverns. The sound disappeared before anyone could identify it.

Sokka cleared his throat.

“Just to check, are we absolutely sure this isn’t one of those situations where the Avatar goes in alone while the rest of us wait somewhere safe?”

“No,” Aang said.

Sokka sighed.

“That’s what I was afraid of….”

A smile tugged at your mouth as you followed the others toward the entrance.

Darkness swallowed the group. The cavern widened into a network of natural tunnels carved through black volcanic stone. Moisture gleamed along the walls wherever the acolytes’ lights reached, turning the rock slick and reflective. Narrow streams threaded through the floor in shallow channels, disappearing beneath arches worn smooth by centuries of flowing water.

The festival felt far away now. Only the occasional distant boom of drums reached the tunnels, muffled beyond layers of stone and earth.

The older acolyte led you deeper.

“We found signs of the missing acolytes near the central shrine chamber.”

“How often do people come down here?” you asked.

“Less than they used to, Fire Lady,” the younger acolyte admitted. “Mostly for meditation and maintenance of the old shrines.”

The tunnels curved, and after a few minutes of walking, the first shrine appeared. At least what remained of it.

Ancient carvings also covered the walls around a circular alcove carved directly into the stone. Offerings sat scattered across the floor: broken shells, faded prayer ribbons, small ceramic bowls overturned beside the water.

One of the braziers had been knocked onto its side.

Katara crouched beside it.

“This wasn’t weather.”

“No it wasn’t,” Aang agreed.

Toph moved farther into the chamber.

“Someone came through here recently.”

“Can you tell who?” Sokka asked.

“No.” She frowned. “Too many footprints. But they’re not all old.”

Your eyes drifted toward the water running through the center of the room.

Something moved.

You blinked.

The current flowed steadily beneath the shrine before disappearing through a narrow opening farther ahead.

Beside you, Zuko stopped walking.

“You saw that too?”

You felt a chill slide unexpectedly down your spine.

“Yeah.”

Across the chamber, Katara straightened. “I thought it was a reflection.”

Aang looked between all of you.

“What reflection?”

Before anyone could answer, something echoed through the tunnels. It wasn’t precisely a voice; it sounded like several voices speaking at the same time underwater.

The sound traveled through the cavern for only a few seconds before fading back into the darkness.

Sokka immediately moved closer to Suki.

“Nope.”

“Sokka—”

“No. Absolutely not. Everyone heard that.”

“I heard it,” Katara admitted.

“Me too,” Zuko said.

Toph crossed her arms. “I felt whatever made it.”

The two acolytes exchanged visibly nervous glances, but neither looked surprised.

Aang’s expression grew more serious.

“That’s new, isn’t it?”

The older acolyte nodded.

“Yes…”

Farther ahead, somewhere deeper in the cavern network, water splashed.

The sound came again.

The older acolyte’s shoulders tightened. “The central shrine is this way.”

The group moved deeper into the tunnels, following the narrow water channels winding through the stone. Suddenly, Aang stopped.

The group nearly walked into him.

“What is it?” Katara asked.

Aang frowned toward the darkness ahead.

“I can feel something.”

Sokka pointed, instinctively dropping into a low stance and sidestepping so he was pressed shoulder-to-shoulder with Suki. “Great. That’s the exact sentence nobody wants to hear in a cave!”

“It doesn’t feel angry,” Aang said slowly. “Just… confused.”

The tunnels opened abruptly into a much larger chamber. Several stone pillars rose from the water below, supporting a ceiling lost somewhere in darkness overhead. Ancient braziers lined the outer walls, all of them extinguished. At the center of the chamber stood a circular platform connected to the shore by a narrow stone bridge.

On the platform sat two figures. The missing acolytes.

“There!”

One of the missing acolytes looked up at the sound of their voices. Confusion crossed his face.

“Aang?”

The group hurried across the bridge. The two acolytes looked exhausted rather than injured. Their robes were damp from the cavern air and both seemed oddly unfocused, as though waking from a dream.

Katara knelt beside them once everyone reached them. “Are you hurt?”

The older of the two shook his head. “We don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” Sokka repeated.

The younger acolyte rubbed both hands across his face.

“We heard someone calling.”

Aang crouched beside him.

“Calling from where?”

The acolyte glanced toward the water surrounding the platform. “We couldn’t tell.”

A heavy ripple crossed the surface, and far beneath the dark water, something enormous shifted. It was massive enough that the entire pool seemed to displace around it, sending a wave breaking softly against the stone edges of the platform.

“Not a fish, guys…” Sokka stated, his voice dropping as he stared at the shifting shadows.

“Not even close,” you affirmed.

Small whirlpools appeared and vanished as the water grew restless beneath them, currents twisting in directions that made no sense. Reflections stretched strangely across the surface until the depths below began to glow.

Aang stepped closer to the edge as the water below began to glow.

Thin strands of pale blue light drifted beneath the surface like threads caught in a current. More appeared later, winding between the submerged pillars and ruined carvings revealed beneath the pool.

The light started to gather.

The missing acolytes exchanged nervous glances.

“That’s what we saw,” one of them whispered.

The glow brightened.

“What on earth is going on?” Sokka asked.

A shape emerged beneath the water, large enough to wrap around the entire chamber. Then it vanished again beneath the currents.

Your breath caught.

The water churned violently as the massive shape began to rise.

In response to its approach, all the ancient carvings lining the chamber walls began to glow, pale blue symbols awakening one after another beneath centuries of dust and mineral stains. Light spread across the stone until the entire shrine seemed illuminated from within.

Aang stared, recognition flickering across his face. “I don’t think it’s trying to hurt anyone.”

The words had barely left his mouth when the spirit finally surfaced, breaking the plane of the dark water.

Its massive head and upper body rose high above the pool, resembling a sea serpent woven from moonlit water and living coral. Luminous markings flowed across its body like moving constellations while translucent fins drifted around it in slow, graceful motions. Pieces of ancient shells and polished stone hung suspended among the currents surrounding it, orbiting the spirit as though caught in its presence.

It was beautiful. And at the same time, deeply, unmistakably distressed.

Sokka blinked twice.

“Wait…”

Nobody looked away from the spirit.

“Can everybody see that?”

“Yes, Sokka,” Katara answered.

“Isn’t that… a bit weird?” Suki asked exactly what was on your mind.

“Yeah, because usually when Aang says spirit, half the time the rest of us are staring at a wall,” Sokka said.

“This place is a spirit crossing,” Aang explained while his gaze remained fixed on the creature. “Some places exist closer to both worlds than others. The shrine was built on one of those places. Whatever happened here weakened the boundary. That’s why everyone can see it.”

The spirit’s luminous eyes swept across the chamber, its gaze settling on each of you in turn.

“… should we bow?” Sokka asked.

“We should shut up,” Toph replied.

“It’s hurting,” Aang realized out loud. “The damage to the outer tunnels... it's tearing at the spirit itself.”

A low call echoed from its throat, rolling through the cavern like a mournful song and raising goosebumps along your arms.

In response, every stream feeding into the shrine surged. Light flashed violently around the spirit as the water churned beneath it.

Toph’s head snapped upward. “Aang.”

The warning in her voice made everyone turn.

Cracks splintered through the stone beneath your feet. The spirit cried out once more, and the entire pool erupted. The water around its body surged outward in a violent ring that slammed against the surrounding pillars hard enough to crack stone.

Toph reacted instantly as both hands struck the platform.

Stone erupted upward around the outer supports, reinforcing pillars that had begun collapsing beneath the strain.

“I’ve got the ceiling!” she shouted through gritted teeth. “Somebody else deal with the angry water!”

The spirit cried out again. Every channel feeding into the shrine exploded at once.

A wall of seawater rushed through one of the side tunnels.

Katara spun toward it. Water rose around her in a sweeping arc before colliding with the surge head-on. The impact sent spray crashing across the chamber.

A second torrent burst from another tunnel, then a third.

Aang’s expression sharpened. “It’s not attacking!” He lunged toward the center of the platform, air swirling around him in widening circles as he pushed back the worst of the flooding before it could reach the rescued acolytes. "Katara!"

"I know!" she redirected surge after surge, but every wave she turned aside was replaced by two more.

The spirit twisted beneath the water. One of the upper supports split apart, and chunks of stone rained toward the platform. Before the monks could even scramble to safety, another violent surge burst from the flooded channels. Katara spun toward the roar, water already rising in fluid, defensive arcs around her hands. But as the wave tore through the cavern passage, swelling nearly to the ceiling and carrying shattered stone and debris from deep within the shrine, her posture faltered.

"Too far!" she shouted over the din.

Aang’s head snapped toward her. The distance between them and the main tunnel was too great. Even if Katara managed to contain this wave, another massive surge was already swelling right behind it.

You moved before either of them could think.

Heat rushed through your arms, and a brilliant arc of fire erupted from your palms, instantly illuminating the dark, cavernous chamber. Beside you, Zuko stepped forward in perfect synchronization. No words were needed. Your twin streams of flame crossed over the rushing water and struck the oncoming wave head-on.

The collision was deafening. A massive wall of steam exploded upward in a roaring white cloud, instantly swallowing half the chamber and blinding everyone in a thick, hot fog.

Somewhere in the mist behind you, Sokka hacked and coughed.

"I can officially say this is the worst vacation I’ve ever been on!"

As if in response, another surge raced through the subterranean tunnels, and the spirit cried out in a piercing sound. With every pulse of light that raced through its body, the shrine answered with another violent tremor. Water crashed violently against the outer walls, making a massive support pillar groan under the pressure.

The pieces clicked together in your mind. You looked past the rushing water, peering through the hot haze toward the glowing fractures rapidly spreading through the ancient carvings.

"The channels!" you shouted, pointing through the haze. "Look at the channels!"

The luminous lines pulsing through the stone weren't fracturing at random; they were all converging directly toward the damaged section of the shrine, right where the construction crews had carelessly breached the tunnels.

Aang’s eyes widened in realization. "It’s trying to reach the breach."

A massive section of the ceiling groaned and collapsed near the outer edge of the chamber. Toph caught it mid-air before it could crush the bridge, stone grinding against stone as she grunted, forcing the shattered rock back up into the ceiling.

Could this mountain stop breaking while I'm holding it?!" Toph’s voice boomed from somewhere behind the fog. "I'm officially claiming this cave, and it's treating me terribly!"

"I’m pretty sure you can't just claim a cave, Toph!" Sokka shouted back. "Especially when the current landlord is a sixty-foot angry water dragon! Look at how mad it is, that is a high-risk investment!"

"Well, it's mine until we leave!" Toph’s face tightened, sweat beading on her forehead. "Okay, everybody move."

The sheer strain in her voice cut off any argument before it could start. The spirit cried out again, sending another violent tremor ripping through the flooded channels.

"Now would be great!" she barked.

"Everybody heard the terrifying earthbender!” Sokka shouted, needing no further encouragement. ”Move!"

The rescued acolytes scrambled toward the bridge, Suki moving to guide them. One of the older monks pointed toward a narrow, jagged fissure climbing upward along the far wall. "There’s another route! An old escape passage!"

"Take them!" Aang shouted.

Suki hauled one of the exhausted acolytes up by the arm. "Come on, keep moving!"

"What about you guys?" Sokka asked, lingering at the base of the trail.

Another sharp crack echoed overhead. Toph didn’t even glance at him, her arms rigid as she held the ceiling.

"I’m busy holding up a mountain, genius."

"Right." Sokka pointed dramatically at the rest of the group. "Don't die while I'm gone!"

"You say that every time," Katara shouted back.

"Because you keep almost doing it!"

With a sharp thrust of her jaw, Toph forced a section of stone aside to clear the upper tunnel's mouth. Sokka, Suki, and the acolytes vanished into the darkness just a heartbeat before a massive tremor rocked the cavern, sealing the opening firmly behind them.

The spirit surged forward, slamming its massive form directly against the flooded wall nearest the breach. The impact vibrated through the entire shrine.

Aang’s eyes tracked the movement. "There."

Katara turned. The glowing currents weaving through the water were no longer chaotic; they were all bleeding into the same fractured masonry.

"It wants something on the other side," you said.

"It has from the beginning," Zuko agreed, his eyes narrowing.

Another pulse of light raced through the ancient carvings. This time, the illumination didn’t scatter. It collided into a single trail that threaded through the walls, pointing straight into the heart of the collapsed ruins.

Aang stared at the glowing path, a look of profound understanding crossing his face. “It’s showing us where to go."

The spirit cried out once more. The anger and malice were gone, replaced by a sound that echoed through the cavern like a desperate, hollow plea.

Zuko stepped forward first, his hand automatically finding yours, his grip firm and grounding.

"Let's go," he said.

The spirit turned. For the first time since surfacing, it stopped its frantic circling. Its luminous eyes locked onto the dark, ruined tunnel ahead, waiting for you to follow.

"Toph…?" Katara asked, her voice tight with concern.

Another violent tremor rolled through the cavern before the question could fully leave her mouth. Toph slammed both hands harder against the vibrating stone beneath her feet. Fresh, crude pillars groaned upward from the floor, catching a sagging section of the ceiling just in time.

"I’m staying here," Toph grunted.

"Are you sure?" you asked.

"No," she shot back. "But if I leave, this place becomes a very wet tomb for all of us. Go find whatever that giant sea noodle is crying about."

Without wasting another second, the four of you plunged into the ruined tunnel, following the glowing currents into the dark.

The passage narrowed drastically. The ancient shrine had once ended at a solid stone wall, but the construction crews had blasted directly through it with ruthless efficiency. Jagged fractures split the surrounding rock, turning the corridor into a treacherous maze of broken masonry and splintered timber supports.

Katara guided a sphere of glowing water ahead of the group, illuminating the path with the pale light reflected from the spirit behind you.

"You’d think people would stop digging after hitting an ancient shrine," she sighed, stepping over a pile of loose shale.

"You’d think they’d stop after finding a giant warning carved into the wall," Zuko muttered.

Aang glanced back over his shoulder. "There was a warning?"

Zuko kicked aside a piece of rubble, pointing his torch toward a cracked stone marker half-buried in the debris. Even fractured, the old Fire Nation characters were unmistakable.

"Protected Site," Zuko read aloud. "Unauthorized excavation strictly prohibited."

Katara winced. "Oh."

"Yeah," you added, stepping over a collapsed beam and brushing dust from your shoulder. "So someone ignored several very obvious signs…”

"Unfortunately, that seems to be one of humanity’s favorite hobbies," Aang said.

Ahead of you, the spirit’s luminous form rippled through the flooded channels flanking the path. Its massive, serpentine body passed silently beneath the water before vanishing around a sharp bend.

The deeper you pressed, the older the environment became. The modern tool marks vanished entirely, replaced by rough, ancient stone that predated the harbor above by generations. Intricate carvings began to emerge beneath centuries of mineral deposits: stylized waves, primitive fishing boats, and countless figures offering gifts to a long, majestic creature woven through every single scene.

You slowed down beside one of the murals, tracing the outline. "The spirit... it's a guardian."

"These are centuries old," Aang murmured, his fingers brushing the weathered stone. "Maybe older."

Katara looked around the vast tunnel. "The harbor was built around this place."

"Not the other way around," Zuko finished.

A distant, echoing cry cut through the damp air. The spirit's call carried less panic now, replaced by a demanding urgency.

"It's close," Aang said, quickening his pace.

The tunnel finally spilled out into a vast, cavernous chamber. Unlike the serene shrine behind you, this place had been desecrated. It was an active construction site. Shattered scaffolding leaned haphazardly against ancient murals, abandoned ropes hung like dead vines from the ceiling, and crates of excavation tools sat coated in a thick layer of dust.

But it was what stood at the dead center of the chamber that drew everyone's breath.

A massive stone disk, nearly as tall as a man, dominated the room. Ancient carvings spiraled across its surface in concentric rings, mirroring the stories on the walls: waves, boats, and offerings. But beneath the art there were names. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of them, carved into the stone.

The pale blue light pulsing through the shrine’s veins flowed directly into the base of the disk. Behind you, the spirit broke the surface of the dark water. For the first time since you had encountered it, the creature became completely, utterly still.

Slowly, the guardian lowered its massive head toward the stone.

Zuko circled the monument once before stopping abruptly. "Hold on."

Following his gaze, you noticed that the floor around the disk wasn't solid. A perfectly circular groove ringed the monument, branching outward into dozens of narrow, intricate channels carved directly into the bedrock, the exact same pattern you had seen illuminated throughout the outer shrine.

Katara frowned. "It’s connected."

"It was connected," Zuko corrected, crouching to sweep a thick layer of dust away from the base.

Something emerged beneath the grime: blackened stone and ancient scorch marks.

Aang’s eyes widened. "Fire."

Four shallow basins sat evenly spaced around the monument’s base. Time and neglect had nearly hidden them, but their purpose was now obvious: they were ancient braziers.

The spirit released another low, prompting call.

"This wasn’t just a memorial," Aang realized, stepping back to take in the scale of the room.

"The shrine's energy grid ran through here," you said. "The excavation breach cut it off."

"And whatever connection existed between the guardian and the shrine went with it," Zuko finished.

Another violent tremor rolled through the chamber. Far behind you, back toward the main shrine, the stone groaned under the sheer force of Toph’s bending. Time was running out.

Aang didn’t hesitate. "Can you relight them?"

Zuko was already moving. Golden fire bloomed from his fingertips, pouring into the nearest basin. For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then, a carved channel flashed to life. Light raced across the floor, and the spirit stilled, a flicker of hope rippling through its luminous markings.

But only a fraction of the network awakened. The light sputtered, then stopped.

Zuko frowned, his hands still smoking. "Not enough."

You looked toward the opposite side of the monument, eyeing the dark channels still waiting for power. Without a word, you stepped up to the second basin and thrust your hands forward.

Fire surged from your palms, igniting the ancient stone.

The response was immediate. Light exploded through the remaining channels, racing beneath the floor in branching rivers of gold and blue. The carvings surrounding the disk awakened one after another, illuminating centuries of forgotten names.

The entire chamber shuddered with a resonant shockwave of recognition. The spirit threw back its head and cried out. This time, the sound carried no pain. Only pure relief.

As the guardian’s cry faded, the light continued to pulse through the monument beneath your hands. The carved names shimmered in unison until the entire stone disk seemed to come alive, moving images shifting across its surface like a living tapestry.

Boats crossed rough, stylized seas. Families gathered along a primitive shore. The guardian glided protectively beneath the waves beside them. Generations blurred past in moments; harbors expanded and homes multiplied, yet through every shifting scene, one detail remained constant: at the dead center of the shrine sat a single, smooth piece of dark rock resting within a circular recess.

Then, the images turned chaotic. Carved workers appeared. Dust and explosions cracked through the ancient tunnels, causing a painted collapse. In the fray, the small dark rock tumbled free from its alcove, and a carved worker bent down to pocket it.

The image vanished. The chamber fell dark again, save for the baseline glow of the braziers.

Katara blinked into the sudden dimness.

"A centuries-old spiritual connection was shattered because someone picked up a shiny rock?"

Another tremor rolled through the chamber, and the guardian let out a deeply offended huff from the water.

"Apparently," you said, "yes."

Aang stepped closer, his fingers brushing the empty, circular recess at the center of the monument. "It wasn’t just a rock. It was the anchor for the connection."

Before anyone could reply, the floor lurched violently. A massive crack split across the chamber floor, and behind you, the guardian surged through the water again, its panic returning full force as chunks of stone began to rain down from the ceiling.

Aang moved closer to Katara, his hand settling instinctively at the small of her back as the cavern gave a terrifying heave.

"You okay?"

Katara nodded, bracing herself against him.

"I’m fine. But we need to find that rock, fast."

Above you, a massive section of the ceiling broke loose. Zuko moved instantly, a precise arc of fire bursting upward from his fist to shatter the falling boulder before it could crush anyone. Most of the debris exploded into harmless gravel, but a jagged fragment ricocheted off the wall and whipped past your face.

You hissed, instinctively pressing a hand to your cheek. It barely hurt, but when you pulled your hand away, your fingertips were stained with a thin line of blood.

Zuko saw it, and the remaining color drained from his face.

"That's it," he said, his voice cutting sharply through the roaring cavern. "We're done."

A tremor rolled beneath your feet, answered by a panicked cry from the guardian.

"We don't even know what we're looking for," Zuko continued, stepping between you and the falling dust. "This place is collapsing, Toph is holding up half the island, and we're wasting time chasing a stone that could be anywhere in the harbor by now."

"Zuko—"

"No." For a split second, he looked every bit the Fire Lord you knew: measured, decisive, and entirely unyielding. But beneath it, he was terrified. "We leave. We evacuate the tunnels, and we come back with proper excavation crews after the festival."

The guardian let out another mournful, echoing wail. Aang’s shoulders sank; part of him knew Zuko was right. The spiritual memory had only shown a generic rock. No map, no location, no clue where the worker had taken it…

The floor shuddered violently again, throwing everyone off balance. You stepped closer to Zuko, grabbing his wrist.

"I’m fine."

"I can see that you’re not."

"It’s a scratch, Zuko."

"It’s still blood." His amber eyes finally met yours, dark with worry.

"We can’t leave," you urged softly, keeping your grip firm. "Not when we’re this close."

Aang looked over at Katara, his eyes dropping instinctively to her hand resting over her belly. "Zuko’s right…”

"Aang!" Katara and you shouted in unison.

"We can come back later and—"

Before Aang could finish, a small, loose piece of rubble tumbled from the damaged ceiling and bounced across the face of the monument. Everyone froze, watching it roll.

The stray pebble dropped neatly into the empty, circular recess at the monument's center.

The entire shrine flashed blindingly. A surge of brilliant blue light exploded through every carved channel in the room. The guardian froze mid-thrash. Just as suddenly as it had ignited, the light faded back into a dull simmer.

Katara blinked against the afterimages. "...Did anybody else see that?"

Aang stared at the completely ordinary piece of ceiling rubble now sitting inside the ancient monument. "It responded."

You looked from the stone to the spirit, noting how its luminous eyes remained locked entirely on the monument.

"It was never looking for a specific stone," you realized.

Zuko frowned, his defensive posture melting into confusion. "What?"

You stepped toward the pedestal. "The workers didn't steal some rare, sacred artifact. They just broke the physical circuit." You pointed to the recess. "The stone was never the magic part. It was just a weight."

Aang’s eyes widened as the spiritual logic clicked into place. "The stone was only a physical anchor for the ritual."

"The monument accepted a random piece of rubble, maybe it was just a rock," Katara said, tracing the glowing lines with her eyes. "But it didn't finish the connection."

"Because the stone isn't the important part of the bridge," Zuko added.

You looked between the pulsing channels and the restless spirit, the logic clicking into place. "The stone can hold the physical circuit open... but it doesn't have the spiritual energy to actually link the two worlds back together."

Aang stepped forward, the blue light of the channels reflecting in his eyes as the guardian’s markings flared with sudden, brilliant intensity. He looked at his own glowing hand, understanding his unique responsibility.

"It needs a direct conduit," Aang said softly, the weight of his duty settling over him. "The Avatar is."

The ordinary piece of rubble still sat nestled in the center of the monument, pulsing faintly beneath the network of illuminated channels.

"Everybody back," Aang commanded.

As the floor gave another violent lurch, Aang stepped forward and pressed his palm flat against the stone.

A brilliant wave of energy raced beneath his hand, surging outward through the entire chamber like a physical pulse. Ancient symbols blazed to life across the cavern walls. The fractured lines running through the shrine filled with a blinding, cohesive light, sealing the cracks not with stone, but with pure, ancient energy.

The guardian froze. The tremors stopped.

A heavy, absolute silence crashed through the cavern so abruptly it felt louder than the chaos had been. The frantic, pained movements vanished entirely. A profound sense of relief settled over the creature.

A massive chunk of the ceiling broke loose, plunging toward them. Katara grabbed your sleeve, yanking you backward.

"Move!"

Nobody argued. The four of you pivoted and sprinted back through the unstable tunnel. Behind you, the guardian’s radiant glow poured through the newly restored shrine network, chasing away the oppressive darkness that had filled the depths of the island for days.

Another rumble vibrated through the passage. 

Aang vaulted cleanly over a fallen beam, while you ducked beneath a buckling support timber. Zuko caught your arm just in time, his grip tightening as he kept you from sliding across the slick, wet ground.

The four of you burst back into the central chamber. Toph was still standing exactly where you left her, holding half the mountain together through sheer, stubborn willpower.

Aang didn’t slow down.

"It’s over, Toph!"

Toph tilted her head, listening. The cavern had gone entirely quiet. The water no longer surged angrily against the masonry, and the spirit's mournful cries had ceased. For the first time since they had set foot in the shrine, the island felt completely still.

With a sigh, Toph immediately dropped her arms. "Great."

Everyone stared at her, stunned by the sudden release.

She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

"You trusted us awfully fast," Zuko noted, wiping sweat from his forehead.

Toph shrugged casually.

"If it wasn’t fixed, I’d already be dead."

Zuko closed the distance between you. He reached out, his hand sliding over the curve of your waist to pull you securely against his side, anchoring you to him as if to assure himself you were safe.

"Can we leave now?" he asked, looking down at you.

"That's the most enthusiastic I've ever heard you sound about leaving somewhere," you teased.

A quick glance toward your cheek immediately wiped away his attempt at a smile. The tiny cut had already stopped bleeding, but Zuko's eyes lingered on it anyway.

You sighed. "I told you I'm fine."

"We'll discuss it later."

You narrowed your eyes. "We're not discussing a scratch."

"We are."

From a few paces away, Katara snorted. 

"Good to know nearly dying changes absolutely nothing between you two."

Together, the five of you began the trek back through the tunnels. The suffocating, heavy atmosphere that had plagued the caverns had vanished. Clear water flowed peacefully through the ancient channels and the unsettling spiritual whispers were gone.

When you finally emerged from the mouth of the cavern, the cool evening air rushed over your skin like a breath of fresh air.

Below the jagged cliffs, Whaletail Harbor glittered with life. The world had continued turning while all of you were buried beneath it.

Sokka was waiting near the base of the trail alongside Suki and the protected acolytes. The second he spotted the group emerging from the rocks, he shouted.

"There they are!"

Toph strolled right to him, tapping his arm before grabbing it.

"Good news, Snoozles. The island isn't haunted anymore."

Sokka froze, his eyes widening. "The island was haunted?!"

The older acolyte stepped forward before anyone could continue down the trail. He looked back toward the towering cliffs, where the hidden shrine lay buried beneath layers of ancient stone and forgotten history.

He bowed. Not to Aang alone, but to all of you.

"Thank you."

The younger acolyte lowered his head in tandem. "The guardian protected this island long before any of us were here. We didn’t understand what was happening until it was nearly too late."

"You weren’t the only ones," Katara admitted, offering a reassuring smile.

The rescued acolytes exchanged a sheepish glance before one of them laughed softly, breaking the lingering tension.

"I think I owe an apology…”

Aang blinked, tilting his head. "For what?"

The acolyte rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks turning a bit pink. 

“Well... when the voices first started echoing in the dark, I honestly thought I was achieving a higher state of spiritual enlightenment."

A surprised laugh rippled through the group, and even the older acolyte couldn't help but smile.

"We’ll make sure the harbor council knows exactly what happened here," the elder promised, his expression turning firm. "The excavation will be permanently halted."

"Good," Zuko said, his posture finally relaxing.

The acolyte nodded once in agreement. "And the breach will be repaired properly, with the respect the guardian deserves."

A sudden burst of celebratory music drifted from the harbor, accompanied by the faint scent of roasted street food. Sokka’s head snapped toward the noise, his eyes widening.

"Now..." he murmured.

Everyone recognized that dangerous look.

"Oh, no," Suki sighed, shaking her head.

"Oh, yes." Sokka spun around toward the vibrant, glowing waterfront. "We have already fought one ancient, terrifying force tonight!" He marched toward the path with absolute determination. "And now, we fight the long food lines. To the festival!"

𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊˚

The moment you stepped into the harbor, the festival seemed to swallow you whole.

Someone pressed a skewer of sizzling, grilled squid into Sokka’s hand before he could even ask what it was. Children darted between the stalls, carrying paper fish larger than their heads, while a woman balancing three heavy trays of candied fruit argued loudly with a merchant over prices. Nearby, a rowdy group of musicians had abandoned any attempt at a melody and were simply trying to play louder than one another. The air was thick and alive, Tangled with the rich scents of sea salt, charcoal, citrus, and fried dough.

As the crowd surged around you, you felt Zuko slow to a halt beside you. You paused too, the chaos a contrast to the damp silence of the caves.

The rest of the group continued several paces before Katara noticed the gap and glanced back.

"Hey. What’s wrong?"

You exchanged a hesitant look with Zuko. He rubbed the back of his neck.

"I don’t know if this is appropriate."

Aang blinked. "The festival?"

"All of this," Zuko said, gesturing vaguely toward the celebration.

"We’re supposed to be here officially representing the Fire Nation," you explained, shifting on your feet. "Not exactly running around playing games. Not that I dislike the idea, but..."

"After tonight..." Zuko looked toward the crowds gathering along the waterfront. "People heard of us dealing with the spirit. It feels strange to immediately show up here pretending we’re on a normal vacation."

Before anyone else could offer a profound philosophical rebuttal, Sokka wrapped a heavy arm around each of your shoulders, pulling you together.

"I completely understand," Sokka said.

You distrusted his tone.

"You do?"

"No." Sokka grinned, squeezing your shoulders. "But I think you’re both being ridiculous."

"Sokka—" Zuko started.

"Look, you are the Fire Lord and the Fire Lady," Sokka interrupted, counting on his fingers. "Very important. Extremely impressive. Lots of paperwork. I get it…”

"I hate where this is going," you muttered.

"...But you also just helped save the entire island," Sokka countered, pointing toward the buzzing docks. "These people are happy because of you."

Suki stepped up beside him, her smile warm. 

"He’s right. They’re incredibly grateful. And honestly? I think it’s good for them to see these leaders enjoying the same evening they are."

Katara nodded in agreement. "It reminds everyone that you’re still human."

"And it’s healthy to take a breath," Aang added with a smile.

Toph smirked, leaning casually against a nearby wooden pillar.

"World leaders. Can’t even have a good time without somebody giving them permission first…”

"That’s not true," Aang protested.

Katara raised an eyebrow. "Aang."

"...Okay, fair," the Avatar mumbled.

You laughed, and the sound seemed to break the last of Zuko's hesitation. He let out a quiet breath, a genuinely relaxed expression finally washing over his face as he bumped his shoulder playfully against yours.

"If you put it that way..." Zuko conceded.

"Fantastic!" Sokka announced, clapping his hands together. "No more responsible thoughts. Let’s get into festival mode!”

Before either of you could regret it, he gave you both a firm shove forward into the heart of the crowd.

𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊

The harbor opened up around you in a blur of motion and color. Brightly painted stalls lined the cobblestone walkways, and dancers spun gracefully beneath strings of paper lanterns. The irresistible aromas of grilled fish and sweet, spiced pastries made your stomach growl almost instantly.

Within minutes, the group naturally fractured. Aang and Katara wandered off toward a shop selling handmade woodcarvings and painted souvenirs. Sokka caught the scent of roasted meats and vanished without a trace, Suki following close behind with a look of affectionate resignation. Toph somehow acquired a local drink almost immediately and was already deep in conversation with a burly fisherman who looked completely unprepared for whatever she was telling him.

For the first time all evening, it was just the two of you.

The joyous noise of the festival swirled around you like a warm breeze. You glanced up at Zuko. "Okay."

"Okay?" he asked, tilting his head.

"We’re having fun…”

A soft smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "That is the current plan."

"Good…”

"But not too much fun," he added, a familiar seriousness creeping back into his voice.

You laughed, shaking your head.

"There he is."

"Who?"

"The Fire Lord, of course."

"I am attempting to enjoy myself."

"You look like you’re scheduling it in a ledger."

His offended expression only made you laugh harder. Seeing his chance, Zuko reached out, his hand slipping smoothly into yours. His grip was warm and grounding.

You looked down at your joined hands, a sudden idea striking you, and let go.

Zuko froze, his hand hanging empty in the air. 

"...What?"

You took one careful step backward into the crowd. 

"Maybe we shouldn’t."

His eyebrow shot up.

"What do you mean?"

"Because..." you said thoughtfully, trailing off as suspicion flashed across his face. You pointed past him toward a lively stall at the far end of the harbor, where darts were flying through the air. "Last one to the prize games has to pay for Sokka's dinner!"

For half a second, Zuko simply stared, his brain catching up to the challenge. Then, you spun on your heel and bolted into the thick of the crowd, your laughter trailing behind you.

Behind you, a loud voice of complete, competitive disbelief echoed over the music. 

"Oh, absolutely not!"

A heartbeat later, the Fire Lord was chasing you through the festival.

The evening slipped away faster than any of you expected. One game became two. Two became five.

At some point Sokka won a stuffed turtle-duck the size of a small child. At another, Aang accidentally got talked into participating in a dance competition he hadn’t realized was a competition. Toph acquired a second drink and refused to explain where it came from.

By the time anyone thought to check the hour, the entire group had somehow reunited in front of a crowded prize stall near the center of the harbor.

“How did we all end up here?” Katara asked.

“Fate,” Sokka answered immediately.

The game itself was simple enough. Teams stood behind a painted line and tossed wooden rings toward a collection of moving targets mounted on spinning wheels.

Sokka appointed himself organizer.

"Alright!" he announced, clapping his hands together. "Teams!"

Before anyone could even think about objecting, his finger was already darting around the group.

"Me and the Fire Lady. Team One."

"What?" you said, catching the sudden smirk on Zuko's face out of the corner of your eye.

"Team Two: Aang and Zuko," Sokka continued without missing a beat.

Aang blinked, looking between Zuko and the game board. "Why?"

"Because it’d be funny," Sokka said honestly. He pointed again. "Katara and Suki, Team Three."

Suki shrugged, offering a cheerful high-five to Katara. "I'm in."

"And Toph—"

"I’m not playing," Toph interrupted, lifting her cup. "I just spent the last half hour holding up a collapsing cave."

"Fair point," Sokka conceded.

She took a sip.

“I deserve this drink."

The local fisherman next to her gave her a respectful nod.

"You absolutely do, little lady."

Toph beamed with pride, gesturing toward him with her cup.

"Finally, someone reasonable around here."

Katara sighed, watching her closely. "I think she’s getting tipsy…”

"I’m not tipsy," Toph scoffed, taking another long sip. "Though... the floor is vibrating weirdly."

"Toph, we’re standing on a wooden dock."

Toph paused. "...That actually explains a lot."

"Yeah," Katara murmured. "You’re tipsy."

Before the debate could continue, the stall owner cleared his throat loudly, crossing his arms over his apron.

"Are you guys playing or not?"

Everyone turned back to the booth. The man pointed proudly to a pair of heavy, brightly painted tin medallions hanging from thick red ribbons right at the center of the display. Stamped boldly into the metal were the words: Whaletail Hooks Champion.

Sokka’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, his competitive spirit completely taking over.

“Oh, we’re playing…”

The game turned out to be far more competitive than any festival attraction had a right to be.

Brightly painted wooden targets spun atop rotating wheels at varying speeds while players attempted to hook heavy rings around them from across the lane. Some moved unpredictably, jerking side to side, while others ducked behind wooden barriers before reappearing a few seconds later.

A sizable crowd had gathered quickly around the stall. Apparently, the locals enjoyed watching legendary world leaders become completely irrational over cheap prizes.

The first round went entirely to Katara and Suki. Katara landed three perfect, flowing throws in a row, while Suki cleanly sank four.

"How are you so good at this?" Aang asked, watching another ring slide perfectly onto a spinning peg.

Suki blinked at him, holding a fresh ring balance on her fingers.

"Aang, I throw razor-sharp fans for a living."

"Right. Good point."

The second round, however, belonged completely to Sokka. The moment the game shifted from raw aiming to strict timing, his inner war strategist activated.

"No, no, no, watch the pattern," Sokka muttered, grabbing your arm and forcing you to look at the wheels. "That blue one slows down every six rotations. It's a trap."

You stared at him.

"You counted the rotations?"

"I count everything," he said solemnly.

The ring left his hand with a sharp flick. A direct hit.

The crowd cheered, and you laughed, high-fiving him. "Okay, I have to admit, that was actually impressive."

"I know," Sokka said, basking in the glory.

Three throws later, Team One had climbed into second place. Across the lane, Zuko looked mildly offended by their sudden success.

"He’s actually good at this."

"You sound surprised," Suki observed, leaning against the counter.

"I am."

Sokka pointed a triumphant finger. "You hear that? The Fire Lord respects my athletic prowess."

"I didn’t say that…" Zuko shot back.

But as the next round began, Team Two started pulling ahead. Aang wasn’t bad, but Zuko was the real problem. His throws were precise, consistent, and annoyingly perfect. Every ring he released seemed to land exactly where he intended, his military discipline translating entirely too well to festival games.

"Again?" Katara complained as another target spun away carrying one of Zuko's red rings around its neck.

The scoreboard shifted:

Team One: 24

Team Two: 30

Team Three: 27

Sokka looked physically ill, clutching his stomach as he stared at the numbers.

"This is terrible. This is an absolute disaster."

"Sokka, we’re only losing by six points," you said, trying to re-anchor him to reality. "That’s not terrible."

"It is when Zuko starts getting confident," Sokka whispered.

Across the lane, Zuko accepted another ring from Aang. He rolled his shoulders, cracked his knuckles, and casually pushed his dark hair back from his face before landing another perfect throw. The crowd erupted into applause.

Sokka narrowed his eyes, leaning in close to you. "You see that?"

"What?"

"That! Right there."

You followed his intense gaze.

"Sokka, I have no idea what you’re talking about."

"The shoulder thing!" he hissed. "And the hair! Zuko’s been distracting you all night."

Katara nearly choked on her drink, bursting into a loud laugh, while Aang just looked lost. 

Zuko, hearing his name, looked up with an expression of profound confusion.

"What are they talking about over there?"

"No idea," Aang admitted, tossing his next ring.

"Waving his hair around," Sokka continued his passionate rant to you, ignoring the other team entirely. "Cracking his knuckles. Lifting his arms."

You blinked, utterly baffled.

"Sokka... is he distracting me, or is he distracting you?"

Suki burst out laughing, and Toph, lounging comfortably on a nearby barrel with a local beverage in hand, pointed in Sokka’s direction. 

"Honestly? At this point, I think he’s just distracting himself."

The crowd chuckled, but Sokka held up a hand, completely unfazed. He turned to you. 

"My dear Fire Lady…”

"Oh no. Stop."

"…you are far too oblivious to his psychological warfare."

"I’m leaving this stall right now," you said, turning around.

"You can’t leave!" Sokka grabbed your sleeve. "We’re a team!"

Another ring landed across the lane. Another point for Team Two. The scoreboard updated after the turns:

Team One: 26

Team Two: 34

Team Three: 30

A heavy, grim silence fell over Team One. Sokka stared at the numbers, then at you, then back at the numbers. You recognized the plotting look in his eyes.

"No," you said firmly.

"I haven't even said anything!"

"You don't need to. I know you.”

"You could help us," Sokka pleaded, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You could help us more."

Across the lane, Zuko landed yet another throw, leaning against the wooden barrier with a small, smug grin. Sokka slammed both hands down onto the counter, throwing his head back in a theatrical groan of disbelief.

"There! That’s the problem. Think about it: he’s your husband…”

"Oh, absolutely not. Whatever you're thinking, no."

"We only need four points. You could easily get us four points!”

"Sokka, that’s cheating."

"It’s more like… romantic strategy."

You folded your arms, glaring at him. Sokka folded his arms right back, matching your stance.

"You want me to distract Zuko," you summarized.

"I want you to help your team."

"By distracting Zuko."

"By securing victory."

"Sokka."

"Look," he reasoned, gesturing dramatically toward the opposite side of the lane. "I’m telling you, it would only be fair. Remember when he beat you at the games on Ember Island?"

The mention of Ember Island brought your entire train of thought to a grinding halt. The memory flashed in your mind: Zuko gloating over a trivial victory, refusing to let it go for days.

"He didn’t deserve that win, did he?" Sokka pressed. "You were doing way better."

"I was doing better," you murmured, your own competitive instincts suddenly flaring to life. "The wind caught my last throw…”

"Exactly! I knew it!" Sokka encouraged. "So now, we need to win. For justice."

You looked toward the scoreboard. Then toward Zuko, who was casually spinning a ring on his finger, looking entirely too relaxed. Then back toward the scoreboard. Four points. Only four.

Sokka saw the exact moment your resolve crumbled. A massive, devious grin spread slowly across his face.

"There she is."

"Sokka, please, don't enable me..."

"There she is, I can see her! The true competitor!"

"No, she’s not here, she's being a responsible world leader..." you muttered, though your eyes were locked on Zuko. You sighed, letting your arms drop. "...Fine. One distraction."

Sokka gasped dramatically, Suki covered her face to hide her grin, and Katara started laughing in anticipation.

"You are never allowed to complain about cheating ever again," you warned Sokka, reaching up to casually loosen and rearrange your hair.

"I won’t," he promised.

"You absolutely will."

"That’s future Sokka’s problem."

You shook your head, stepped out from behind your counter, and crossed the lane. The moment Zuko noticed you approaching.

"I already know Sokka sent you," he said as you stopped right beside him.

"Why would you think that?" you asked, tilting your head innocently.

"Because you’re on the losing team."

The word ‘losing’ immediately irritated something deep inside you, dragging your mind straight back to his smug face on Ember Island. Your competitive edge sharpened. 

"We’re not losing."

His gaze drifted pointedly toward the scoreboard, a tiny smirk playing on his lips. 

"We’re still ahead.”

The stall owner handed him a fresh, painted ring. Zuko rolled the heavy wood thoughtfully between his fingers, rolling his shoulder back. 

"If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to secure this victory."

You smiled. "Of course."

Zuko narrowed his eyes. Experience had taught him that a smile that gentle from you never meant anything good. "Of course?" he repeated.

"Of course."

His suspicion doubled. You folded your hands behind your back.

Across the board, the wooden target rotated into view. Zuko lifted his arm, setting his stance into a perfect, practiced military position.

You looked him up and down thoughtfully. 

“I just wanted to say... I really like that look on you."

His focus flickered. "What look?"

"The focused one…”

A few feet away, Sokka physically stopped breathing. Zuko snorted, fighting a grin as he kept his arm raised.

 "That’s your strategy? Flattery?"

"No." You leaned in just a fraction closer, lowering your voice to a sultry whisper that only he could hear over the crowd. "All I’m saying is, it’s the exact same expression you make when you look up at me while your mouth is on my—"

The ring left his hand going completely sideways.

It missed the target, missed the rotating wheel, and missed the entire structure of the game stall. The ring sailed clean out of the booth, landing somewhere near a thoroughly confused person in the crowd.

Zuko froze, his arm still extended, his entire face flushing a deep, brilliant crimson that rivaled the Fire Nation banners.

Sokka exploded. "HE MISSED! THE FIRE LORD MISSED!"

The entire harbor seemed to hear him. Katara doubled over, clutching the counter as she gasped for air, while Suki nearly dropped her remaining rings from laughing so hard. Even Aang looked deeply impressed by the sheer trajectory of the fail.

Zuko slowly closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the flush remained on his cheeks, but his gaze locked directly onto yours. 

"...You."

You bit the inside of your cheek to hide your grin.

"I’m really not sure what happened there, Zu. A sudden gust of wind, maybe?"

"You know exactly what happened."

"I was just making casual conversation."

Behind you, Sokka was practically doing a victory lap.

“LET'S GO TEAM ONE! THE COMEBACK IS REAL!"

"You haven’t won yet!" Zuko called out.

"We basically have!" Sokka shouted back, shoving three rings into your hands the moment you walked back to your side. "Do it again! Go back over there and do it one more time!"

"No," you laughed.

"For justice!"

"Sokka, there is absolutely nothing just about what I just did."

Sokka pointed a dramatic, accusing finger across the lane. "He started it!"

"I did not!" Zuko protested loudly.

"You were waving your hair around!" Sokka yelled.

"What does that even mean?!"

While Team Two looked genuinely worried and Zuko continued to glare at you, Sokka leaned over the counter, grinning so hard his face looked painful. 

“She’s a natural, Suki. A natural."

Suki shook her head, though she was still smiling.

“I regret ever introducing you two."

The stall owner held up the final set of rings, his voice booming over the chatter.

“Last round, folks!"

The crowd cheered as the scoreboard updated. Thanks to your distraction and Suki's quick throwing during the chaos, the massive gap had evaporated. It was a dead heat:

Team One: 38

Team Two: 35

Team Three: 39

Everything came down to the final throws. Sokka’s eyes darted across the spinning wheels, his mental math clicking into place. He pointed toward the board.

"Third target from the left."

You followed his finger. "The fast one?"

"No, the one behind it."

You frowned, squinting. "Sokka, you can’t even see a target behind it."

"I know. It’s blocked by the wooden barrier right now, but its rotation speed is half the front wheel's. It's going to emerge in exactly three seconds."

You stared at him, then back at the blank spot. 

Right on cue, the hidden target slid out from behind the barrier exactly where he predicted.

"...That is incredibly annoying," you muttered. “But damn impressive.”

"So I've been told."

You lined up your shot, took a breath, and flicked your wrist. A direct hit.

The crowd erupted. Tie game.

Across the lane, Aang groaned, resting his forehead against the wooden counter.

“Why are they suddenly so good at this?"

"They’ve become insufferable," Katara replied, though she was grinning.

Sokka handed you your second-to-last ring, his eyes never leaving the board.

“Now, the one on the far right."

"The moving one?"

"The fake moving one."

“What does that even mean?"

"The mechanism is hitching," Sokka explained rapidly. "It sways left, but it’s pretending. It drops right back to the center on the next beat. Trust me."

You didn’t fully understand the physics of his madness, but you trusted him anyway. You threw the ring. It sailed gracefully across the lane, catching the right-hand peg perfectly as it hitched.

The crowd exploded again. Team One pulled ahead on the scoreboard for the first time all night.

Beside the game stall, Toph raised her cup in the air. "I’ve got five silver pieces on the loud one!"

"The loud one?" the fisherman beside her asked, looking down at the earthbender.

Toph pointed a blind, unerring finger directly at Sokka’s face.

“The loud one."

Back at the game, Sokka was practically bouncing in place. Only one final target remained on the entire board, and it was notoriously the hardest: a tiny, painted wooden turtle-duck spinning in tight, rapid circles near the very top of the display.

The crowd fell completely silent. The stall owner folded his arms, looking smug.

“No one’s hit that turtle-duck all night, folks."

Sokka immediately looked at you. You looked back at him. Neither of you spoke a word, but years of shared history and mutual chaotic energy suddenly condensed into one terrifying look of perfect realization.

"Oh no," Katara muttered, stepping back.

"They’re doing the Ember Island thing again," Suki agreed, covering her eyes.

Aang winced. "What thing?"

"The thing where they stop talking because they both think they’re geniuses," Katara explained.

Sokka gave you a sharp nod. You nodded back.

In a flash, Sokka tossed his final ring, not toward the turtle-duck, but straight toward one of the heavier wheels spinning directly beneath it. The crowd gasped at the apparent miss, but the heavy ring struck the lower wheel with a sharp thunk, causing the entire mechanism to jerk violently sideways.

The tiny turtle-duck target stuttered in its track, its rapid spinning halting for a fraction of a second.

Before anyone else could even comprehend what Sokka was doing, your final ring was already in the air. It sailed flawlessly across the lane, cutting through the lantern light, and landed squarely over the stalled turtle-duck target.

The crowd roared, Sokka screamed at the top of his lungs, and you screamed right along with him. Somewhere behind you, Toph’s voice boomed over the madness: "I WON TEN SILVER PIECES!"

"THAT WAS MY RENT MONEY!" the fisherman wailed.

"I BELIEVED IN THEM MORE, BUDDY!"

Sokka grabbed you by both shoulders, shaking you back and forth.

“WE DID IT! WE WON!"

"WE ACTUALLY WON!" you shouted back. 

Neither of you noticed you were jumping up and down like toddlers, and neither of you cared.

Across the lane, Aang sighed dramatically, though he was smiling.

“I liked them better when they were losing."

Katara just laughed, leaning against her brother's shoulder as he continued to celebrate their absolute heist of a victory.

Meanwhile, Zuko stood with his arms crossed, watching the two of you lose your minds. He tried very hard to look stern, trying to keep a straight face and fail completely. A breathless smile broke. Because as entirely annoying and chaotic as the two of you were when your brains synchronized, the bright, victorious look on your face was worth every single bit of it.

The stall owner, looking thoroughly defeated but deeply impressed, handed over two heavy, brightly painted tin medallions attached to red ribbons. Sokka proudly slipped his over his head, and you did the same, looking down at the bold lettering stamped into the metal: Whaletail Hooks Champion.

Suki walked around the counter, a bright smile on her face as she wrapped her arms around Sokka’s neck and kissed him on the cheek. 

"Congratulations, babe!"

Sokka straightened his spine, puffing out his chest so the tin medal caught the lantern light. 

"Address me correctly."

Suki dropped her arms, her smile turning into a look of dry amusement.

“Oh, no..."

"Whaletail Hooks Champion Sokka," he corrected, raising his hands in the air to frame an imaginary title above his head. 

Suki just laughed, shaking her head as she leaned against his shoulder.

Across the lane, Aang shook his head and folded his arms in mock betrayal.

"I am officially never teaming up with Zuko again unless we are actively saving the world."

"Aang," you said through your lingering laughter, adjusting your new medal. "You don't have to say that!”

"No, I do," Aang insisted, gesturing wildly at the Fire Lord. "How has he been married this long and still fallen for something that obvious? Zuko, you should already know what she’s going to do whenever she wants to distract—"

Before he could finish his lecture, Katara reached over and brushed a loose strand of hair back from Aang’s forehead, her fingers lingering gently against his temple.

The words died right in his throat as he stared at her, his posture melting. Katara offered him a sweet, knowing smile. "There."

Aang blinked.

"...Hi."

Beside him, Toph nearly choked on her drink, coughing as she laughed.

Aang blinked again, trying to shake the fog from his head.

“What?"

Zuko stepped up behind you, his hand sliding smoothly around your waist as he pulled you against his side. A smug grin crossed his face as he looked across the counter. 

“You were saying, Aang?"

Aang opened his mouth to reply, then paused. He let out a defeated sigh.

"I forgot."

The group erupted into a fresh wave of laughter.

Katara playfully rolled her eyes, though her smile was affectionate as she took Aang’s hand and nodded toward the center of the harbor.

"Come on, let's dance!" she called out.

Aang followed her into the crowd without a single shred of hesitation. 

The music grew louder, filling the night air as you followed the others toward the beating heart of the harbor. Someone had cleared a wide, circular section of the cobblestone waterfront specifically for dancing. Local musicians crowded onto a raised wooden platform, pouring their souls into songs so fast and lively that half the festival seemed to be moving in perfect rhythm with them.

Aang and Katara disappeared into the swirling crowd first, their hands locked as they spun. Sokka immediately attempted to teach Suki a chaotic new dance he had clearly invented less than thirty seconds earlier, while Suki simply laughed and tried her best to keep him from tripping over his own feet. Toph took one look at the growing madness, announced to no one in particular that she deserved another drink for holding up a literal mountain, and vanished toward the nearest refreshment vendor without a backward glance.

You watched them go, leaning back into Zuko's chest with a soft smile.

“Somehow, they get more ridiculous every single year."

"Or better," Zuko murmured, his chin resting lightly against the crown of your head, his arms wrapping around your middle from behind.

"Uhhh, debatable." You turned your head slightly, pressing a playful kiss to his jawline.

His grip tightened around you, a quiet hum vibrating in his chest. Just then, the fast-paced tempo of the festival changed. The drums slowed, transitioning into a deeper, swaying rhythm. Around you, the frantic dancers parted, making room for couples to step closer together.

Zuko turned you in his arms. The movement was entirely effortless, born from years of knowing exactly how the other moved. His right hand settled firmly against the small of your back, pulling you flush against him, while his left hand intertwined with yours, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles over your knuckles. Laughter and the scent of sea salt drifted through the warm night air, and the overwhelming noise of the world seemed to fade into a gentle hum. 

There was absolutely nowhere else either of you needed to be.

You relaxed into his rhythm, letting your forehead rest briefly against his shoulder, letting the steady beat of his heart soothe the lingering adrenaline from the caves.

"Tired?" he asked softly, his breath brushing the top of your ear.

"A little," you admitted, tilting your head up to look at him. "It's hard work carrying Team One to a historic victory."

Zuko looked down at you, his amber eyes immediately darkening with that familiar, mock-suspicious glint.

“You cheated. And I know that look. What are you planning?"

"Should you be worried?" you teased, your fingers lightly tracing the embroidered collar of his robes.

"When you use that specific voice? Yes. Always."

You laughed, the sound bright and unbothered. Across the harbor, a long string of lanterns reflected over the dark.

"I saw a sign earlier," you murmured, leaning in just close enough that your lips almost brushed his jaw. "Apparently, there are natural hot springs tucked away into the cliffs nearby."

"Are there?" Zuko asked, his pace slowing just a fraction as he focused entirely on you.

"Mhm. And a very enthusiastic local woman confirmed they are exceptionally nice." You trailed a finger down his chest, your voice dropping to a playful whisper. "They also happen to be completely secluded."

Now you had his absolute, undivided attention. His eyebrow rose, a spark of genuine interest igniting in his eyes.

"Secluded, you say?"

You nodded thoughtfully, enjoying the way his chest tightened beneath your palm. 

“And they're not too far from the Shiny Bug."

The corner of his mouth twitched, a slow, devastatingly handsome smile breaking across his face. He leaned down, dipping you slightly into the turn of the dance just to hear you gasp. 

“I highly approve of your scouting methods, Fire Lady."

"I know you do." Your smile widened as you stood up on your tiptoes, bringing your face inches from his. "We’re married for a reason, Zu."

As you spoke, Zuko’s thumb gently brushed over the small, faint scratch on your cheek, the tiny reminder of the collapsing cave from earlier. His touch was incredibly tender, a silent check to make sure you were truly alright, before his playful gaze returned.

A genuine, breathless laugh escaped him, one of those rare, unburdened sounds that never failed to make your chest swell with affection. His hand pressed a little firmer against your waist, guiding you effortlessly beneath the glowing lanterns.

"In that case," Zuko whispered, his voice dropping into a low, rough register as his mouth hovered agonizingly close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin, "I hope the rumors stay entirely between us."

"What rumors?" you asked.

"The ones about the Fire Lady being found entirely alone in those hot springs sometime soon." He nipped playfully at your earlobe, making a shiver run down your spine, before whispering, "Because I’d love nothing more than to get her all to myself."

You reached up, your hand cupping his cheek, your thumb smoothing over his scar as a wicked, playful grin spread across your face. 

"Well... you might. If you manage to wake up early enough to keep up with me."

The promise settled comfortably between you, thick with anticipation. Before he could retort, you slid your hand to the back of his neck and pulled him down into a deep, lingering kiss. 

Zuko didn't hesitate; his arm anchored you tightly against him, melting into the kiss as the festival carried on around you.

The music swelled, drifting deeper into the starlit night. Nearby, Aang’s joyful laughter echoed over the din at something Katara had said. Sokka had somehow successfully convinced an entire group of absolute strangers to join whatever ridiculous line-dance he was leading, and even Toph’s boisterous voice occasionally boomed across the docks whenever she won an argument with a vendor.

The retreat had not gone remotely according to the schedule. There had been rigid political obligations, a sudden spiritual crisis, a collapsing ancient shrine, and entirely too many opportunities for Sokka to embarrass them all in public. And somehow, despite the absolute chaos of it all, you found yourself wishing it wasn’t almost over.

Tomorrow would be your final day on Whaletail Island before returning to the capital and the heavy weight of the throne. But for tonight, wrapped in Zuko's arms beneath the moonlight, the music, and the endless canopy of stars, reality felt very far away indeed.

𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚₊

note: ahhhh, contrary to the last installment, this one has my whole heart 🥹 i had so much fun writing it. life has been a little busy lately, so getting to sit down and spend some time with these guys genuinely helped more than i can explain. thank you for still being here and reading these <3 and for everyone already yearning for spice… don’t worry. i gotchuuuu. see you in part four? xx

Joel had started getting used to these kinds of questions from you. Something told him early on this is likely what life with you would be like, so might as well get used to it. He barely reacted aside from casually grumbling into your body: “S’never a time where you n’ me in the same room, and ya lookin’ at my dick, and it wouldn't be hard.”

But that wasn’t good enough for you. “That can’t be true. Roll over right now.”

But Joel didn’t budget.

So you used your surprising leg strength and flipped him like a pancake.

Joel tossed over easily, but the way your eyes laser beamed down at his crotch made him cover the area sheepishly with the pillow.

You saw it anyway, the clear print tent on his front jutting out.

“Are you hard right now??” You ask in disbelief.

“When ya lookin’ at me like that? Of course I am!” He retorts defensively, shifting his hardened dick to a more comfortable, more discrete location without his trousers.

“I’m not lookin at you any different way.”

“Every look ya give me makes me hard…” he admits. His ears turned red.

“But... When will I be able to see it soft…” you draw your eyes into a cute pout.

Joel rolls his eyes. “When I’m dead probably. I can't stay soft when I’m with you.”

“So you’re just walking around with a boner all day every day?”

“No. It’s only after I get to see you.” 

You suck your cheek in, looking away. You don’t want him to notice the unavoidable grin plastered on your face from his open and unashamed confession.

You tap your finger on your book for a moment.

"I want to see it soft," you declare.

Joel lets out a chuckle. "Never gonna happen."

"I've known you for a year. I have to know. its like. A milestone. Or something..."

He raises his brow.

You double down. "'Or something', I said! Its a thing. Look it up." When he doesn't relent, you get up on your knees, tossing the book aside. "What do I have to do to make it soft."

Joel laughs, leaning back with one hand behind his head. "You know, there you have been in the same room as me when i've been soft many times, babygirl. Always the same situation."

"Why don't I remember??"

"Cus you're always too fucked out droolin' in the sheets by then," he says cockily.

Something about his smug sexy grin riles you up, and you quickly find yourself straddling atop him.

His hands instinctively seek purchase on your thighs, stroking them up and down while his eyes racked up and down the gorgeous sight of you on top of him. "This ain't helpin' ya get any closer to seein' the 8th wonder of the world..." He hums. To emphasize his point, he drags your clothed mound against his bulge.

It made your insides warm and fuzzy for a moment, your brain slipping into that dizzy realm of pleasure. The one that makes you sway and melt, do whatever the hell Joel wants, and sleep so good afterwards--

No! you were determined to see that thing floppin' around like a deflated wet balloon, even if it was the last thing you saw!

"I need you to get soft."

"Its too late. Im rock hard."

"Make it go backwards!"

"Cant go backwards. Only go forward. Care to find out?" He teases with a smirk. Joel sucks his lower lip as he slowly starts a steady rhymth, rocking you in place, his feet planted a little more firmly so you had no chance of escaping.

You let out a low whine. The only way out, was through. For as long as Joel knew you, you never backed out of a challege.

You also never really win at these things... but he loved how that fact never stopped you.

1 hour later...

The most desperate, pained, pleasurable croak you could muster gets muffled into the betsheets as you bite down on the fabric.

"Ah huh. How ya doin' sweatpea?" Joel huffs. Powerful hips drive into your ass repeatedly, his hands gripping your waist like he meant to leave bruises there. Each thrust sent your forehead scraping forward against the mattress. It took all your night not to fall off the side of the bed.

This fucker! you thought. How the fuck does he do this?

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he expertly angles his cock down, smacking your g spot repeatedly.

Like always, you'd lost count of your orgasms. Like always, you stopped using coherent words and instead resorted to babbling whines to communicate. and Like always, Joel wasn't anywhere near slowing down.

"I ain't hear you, baby." He lays his body closer to yours, chest top your back, slotting against you like a mould. Slow, deep, method rolls keeps his tip planted deep inside you. He was so solid inside your body. Outside your body. all over you, all of him. His scent, his taste, his touch. Intoxicating and addicting over and over again.

That fucker!

You could feel his breath tickle your as he whispers: "You still waitin' to see it soft?"

Thirty minutes ago you would have ground your teeth and stuck it out with your middle finger up, ass even higher, and mind set to the sky.

But now?

Now you just hummed stupidly, eyes blurry with tears, and brain so switched off, its a miracle you could ever form a thought.

It took less than 20 minutes from that before you were face planted, unconscious in his pillow, a drooling sight he never got tired of.

Joel laid back next to you. He sighed heavily, body ablaze with sweat. You didn't notice it, but he had cum three times, and he was beat. That was usually his max, granted he had saved all week until he could get his hands on you. He was patient like that, waiting for when you'd be in the mood, and not pouncing on ya. Sex was better when you were a stubborn, determined little thing.

But he was exhausted. and true to his word, his cock sagged tiredly against his lower belly.

Joel raises his brow before brushing the hair from your face. If there was a chance you were awake to peak it, you would have shown sign of being alive right now. Instead, despite his best effort to poke your cheek awake, you snored deeply. A well earned rest.

A chuckle escapes his chest. "So much for milestones," he says to himself. He doesn't stop brushing your hair gently from your face. His thumb grazing the soft expanse of your cheek.

"My girl," he hums softly.

He remembered the first time you slept at his place over a year ago, and the thought of waking up to you like this every day plagued his mind.

Its the same thought that tumbles through his mind as he rolls the little velvet box in his hand. He keeps flicking it open, then closed, and the beautiful diamond ring flashes at him repeatedly.

"Whatdda think? You gonna like it?" He asks to your unconscious body, presenting the ring.

you let out an even louder snore.

"Yeah. let's hope that's a yes."

Joel tucks the ring back in his bedside drawer. Not today.

Some day.

Then, the thought dawned on him. A terrible, awful, unthought of one that could thwart that dream from every happening.

What if you said no, all because you never saw him soft???

- - - -

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Somewhere beside you came a soft, steady sound that your half-asleep mind first mistook for the waves below the cliffs. Only when the sound came again did you finally look toward Zuko, staring at him in absolute disbelief. Because Fire Lord Zuko- terrifyingly disciplined, permanently tense, Fire Lord Zuko- was snoring against the pillow beside you. You genuinely could not remember the last time he had slept deeply enough for it to happen at all.

Sometime during the night, he had pulled you almost completely against him beneath the blankets, one arm still wrapped securely around your waist while dark hair rested messily across his forehead. Sleep had softened the usual sharpness of his expression.

Another quiet snore escaped him, and the laugh that slipped from you afterward was barely louder than a breath. Even so, it was enough to stir him. Zuko’s brow twitched faintly before his eyes slowly cracked open, still unfocused with sleep. 

“…why are you looking at me like that?” he asked at last, his voice roughened by sleep. Your smile widened.

“Oh, nothing.”

His eyes narrowed, suspicion giving way to sudden alarm. 

“Did Sokka draw something on my face?”

A laugh escaped you before you could stop it. “No!”

“Mmm.” He squinted harder beneath the blankets. “You’re smiling suspiciously.” 

“You might’ve been snoring…”

“I was not.”

“Zuko.”

“I don’t snore.” His brow furrowed. “You know that.”

You bit down on another laugh as you moved closer, propping your head against your hand before attempting a truly terrible imitation of the soft sound he had been making moments earlier.

Zuko stared at you in complete horror.

“I do not sound like that.”

The indignation in his expression completely broke whatever composure you had left. Laughter broke from you, shoulders shaking hard enough to jostle the blankets between you.

He made an offended sound before grabbing the nearest pillow and shoving part of his face into it with despair.

“You do realize,” he muttered against the blankets, “that I’m the Fire Lord.”

“More like the Snore Lord.”

His arm tightened around your waist again, dragging you closer until you were nearly half sprawled across his chest.

“Would that make you my Snore Lady?” he asked, one brow arching.

“Ew, Zuko, that’s horrible!” you said, laughing.

He echoed your laugh beneath his breath while his hand wandered along your back, absent of urgency for once.

You traced small patterns against the front of his night robes as the room settled back into silence, Zuko hovering somewhere between asleep and awake again with his forehead resting against yours.

“I think,” you murmured eventually, “this might be the latest we’ve slept in for months. Without counting that night in your study, of course.” 

“It was only fair we slept in after that,” he replied, eyes still closed even as amusement touched the corner of his mouth. “You looked so good...”

Heat climbed straight into your face.

“…And you sounded even better.”

You shoved lightly at his shoulder, which only seemed to encourage him further.

“Zu, stop it.”

“You sounded a lot less opposed that night...” 

Rather than answering, you kissed him.

Zuko kissed you back like he’d been waiting for it, one hand settling at your waist as your fingers threaded through his still-messy hair. The kiss lingered beneath the tangled blankets, his mouth brushing yours again until your thoughts began drifting out of reach.

“Don’t even start…” you murmured against his lips.

“Why?” he asked, his mouth grazing the corner of your jaw before trailing lower. “Because of what I’m saying?” His voice lowered. “Or because you remember exactly how you were that night?”

Your breath caught the moment his hand slid along your thigh beneath the blankets.

“Zuko…”

A quiet satisfaction settled into the way he kissed your neck again, lingering just long enough to make your eyes fall shut.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured.

The crash from downstairs was loud enough to shake something wooden against the floor below.

Both of you went still.

“GOOD MORNING, VACATIONERS!” Sokka’s voice tore through the cabin.

You buried your face against Zuko’s shoulder, fighting laughter while very pointedly refusing to acknowledge the existence of the outside world. Zuko made a low sound of deep personal suffering before choosing denial as well, dragging you back into another kiss wishing stubbornness alone kept Sokka away. 

“EVERYONE GET UP!” Sokka yelled. “BREAKFAST FIRST. ROMANCE LATER.”

Zuko dropped his forehead against your shoulder with a groan.

“I’m going to kill him.”

“I’ll kill Suki. Shouldn’t he be busy with her?”

“GET UP OR I’LL PERSONALLY COME DRAG YOU OUT OF BED!”

You snorted and finally climbed out from beneath the blankets.

By the time both of you had thrown on lighter robes, your bedroom door slid open at the exact same moment as the one across the hallway.

Katara stepped out first, hair still loose from sleep while Aang lingered behind her looking far too awake for this early in the morning.

“What a cockblocker,” Zuko muttered beneath his breath.

Realization crossed his face a second too late.

“…a great cook,” he corrected smoothly as Katara continued staring at him. “I said he’s a great cook.”

Aang nodded far too fast. “I mean, he is.”

Katara elbowed him hard enough to send him stumbling after her toward the stairs.

“A great cook!” Aang repeated weakly while trying to recover his balance.

Steam drifted from the kettles near the kitchen while platters crowded nearly every available surface: jasmine rice beneath woven covers, steamed buns stuffed with pork and scallions, roasted seaweed crisps stacked beside sliced lychee and mango, sweet bean pastries dusted lightly with sugar, and enough tea brewing to satisfy an entire royal council meeting.

Somewhere near the stove, Sokka nearly dropped an entire tray while attempting to turn dramatically toward all of you at once, catching it against his chest at the last possible second before beaming anyway.

“You’re awake!”

“Hard not to be,” Zuko muttered while reaching past you for tea, his sleeve brushing yours in the process.

“Good. Excellent. Amazing.” Sokka pointed triumphantly with the serving spoon still in his hand. “Because before anyone cruelly abandons this island forever, I prepared activities specifically designed to make you regret leaving...”

He gestured grandly toward several enormous parchment rolls stacked near the kitchen counter, nearly smacking Aang in the face with the spoon as he did. 

Aang ducked. “You’re really committed to the theme this morning!”

You settled beside Zuko near the low table and reached for one of the steamed buns while the cabin buzzed with overlapping voices, clattering dishes, and Sokka’s unstoppable energy. After weeks of palace schedules and rushed meals between meetings, the chaos felt oddly comforting. 

“Well,” you said, lowering your teacup onto the table, “there’s been a slight change of plans.”

The cabin fell abruptly silent.

Zuko looked once around the room before speaking.

“We’re staying.”

“I KNEW IT!” Sokka exploded, loud enough to make several dishes jump.

Aang broke into a grin while relief brightened Katara’s entire face. Across the room, Toph straightened so fast she nearly knocked over the bowl beside her, and Suki let out an excited noise before crossing the cabin to throw her arms around you. 

Katara joined a second later, wrapping one arm carefully around both of you while you nearly lost hold of your breakfast entirely.

“I knew you’d cave eventually,” Suki informed you proudly.

“You all made it very difficult to say no,” you admitted. “And I really do appreciate it. We both do, right, Zu?”

Zuko nodded once, still holding his tea.

Sokka pretended to cry with emotion. “Every single time. One soft look from his wife and suddenly the Fire Lord becomes reasonable.”

Leaning against you, Suki pointed toward him with a slice of mango in hand. “He literally prepared backup activities in case emotional manipulation worked.”

“Because I believe in commitment,” Sokka defended, placing one hand against his chest.

“You believe in hostage situations….” Zuko muttered.

Too excited to care, Sokka lunged for the nearest parchment roll and slammed it dramatically across the table hard enough to make several teacups jump.

“Alright, your— no, wait. My dear friends, of course. Absolutely no royal activities here.” He gestured grandly toward the parchment. “Allow me to present today’s itinerary.” 

Toph tilted her head toward the sound of parchment unfurling. “I can’t see it and somehow I still know it’s ugly.”

“We begin,” Sokka continued, “with trust exercises across a specially designed obstacle course built personally by me and Aang.”

Aang lifted one hand from beside the fruit trays. “In my defense, he said it would be relaxing.”

Katara leaned farther over the parchment. “It involves ropes...” 

“And bridges!” Sokka added proudly.

Your eyes narrowed. “Why is it color-coded?”

Suki pointed at one section. “Is it safe enough?”

Toph smirked from across the table. “More importantly, is it unsafe enough?”

Sokka placed a hand against his chest in awe.

“You see the potential...”

He pointed the spoon dramatically toward the terrace doors.

“Everybody finish breakfast and meet outside in ten minutes.” His gaze shifted pointedly toward you and Zuko. “Fifteen for the two of you, since apparently waking up was a group project this morning.” 

You nearly choked on your tea as laughter erupted around the table. 

𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚

Fifteen minutes later the entire group stood near the upper terraces of the retreat, where the cliffs broke open toward the sea. Wind pulled at robes and hair and the absurd quantity of flags Sokka had attached across the area overnight. What had looked mildly alarming on parchment looked significantly worse in person, because there was, in fact, an obstacle course.

Ropes ran between cedar posts hammered into the volcanic stone. Narrow bridges swayed above steaming channels carved through the cliffs. Hanging lanterns, wooden beams, stacked crates, and painted markers had turned half the retreat into something that looked designed by someone with tremendous energy and extremely poor judgment.

You stopped beside Zuko near the edge of the clearing and stared.

"When did you even build all this?"

"Passion never sleeps!" Sokka answered proudly.

Toph snorted from her seat on one of the larger rocks nearby, holding a small bell in one hand. "Neither does property damage, apparently."

Sokka climbed onto one of the wooden crates near the starting point. "Welcome," he announced, "to the first official event of the Whaletail Island Games!" Toph rang the bell once. "The rules are simple. One person from each pair wears a blindfold while their partner guides them through the obstacles. No bending allowed! Unless Toph needs to save someone from imminent death. The course has three sections, each harder than the last, and the winning team is decided by speed, teamwork, trust, and overall performance as judged fairly by the greatest earthbender who has ever lived."

Toph lifted the bell slightly. "Meaning I decide based on vibes."

"That's not how competitions work!" Sokka protested, crouching beside a basket near the crate and pulling out several strips of dark fabric. "Alright. Teams have already been assigned."

Suki reached for one of the blindfolds. "Please tell me you're not my responsibility..."

"You absolutely are, babe!"

Nearby, Katara picked up another blindfold while Aang leaned over her shoulder. 

“I hope we do well,” Katara said.

Aang smiled knowingly. “I think we will.”

“Oh, I know we will,” Katara corrected, brushing loose hair away from her face as the wind caught it again. “I’m just trying to make everyone else believe we’re not about to crush them.”

The entire group turned toward her.

Katara blinked once beneath the sudden silence.

“…have fun?”

Sokka tossed the final blindfold toward you. Zuko caught it before it reached your hands.

"No."

You blinked at him. "What do you mean, no?"

"You are not walking blindfolded through this." He gestured toward the course without looking away from you. "There are ropes. And cliffs. And whatever that is." He pointed toward a narrow swinging bridge farther ahead.

Aang raised one hand slowly. "That part was my idea."

"Of course it was…"

You laughed and plucked the blindfold from Zuko's hand, ignoring the disapproving look he gave you. "The whole point of a trust exercise," you reminded him, "is trust."

Toph rang the bell sharply.

"Less feelings. More suffering. Let's go."

Sokka pointed toward the start of the course, where three painted banners snapped in the wind.

“Section one is the Cliff Paths. Balance, direction, basic coordination. If you fall here, honestly, that's embarrassing." He gestured toward the ropes and hanging bridges farther along the cliffs. "Section two is the Crossing Grounds, where communication matters most. And section three..." He paused, turning toward the final stretch dissolving into mist above them. "...is the Leap."

Aang's face lit up. "You kept the last part?"

"Of course I kept the last part." Sokka pointed upward toward where narrow stone pillars rose unevenly from the volcanic channels below, connected only by hanging ropes and scattered wooden platforms. "The final stretch is about instinct. No time to think. Just trust."

Toph hopped off the rock in one clean movement and landed near the starting line.

"Blindfolds on, everyone."

Fabric rustled across the clearing as everyone moved toward their partners. Suki stepped behind Sokka and tied his blindfold firmly while he complained. Katara handed her blindfold to Aang, who tied it quickly but carefully behind her head. 

You unfolded your blindfold between your hands. Zuko’s gaze moved once across the cliffs, the bridges, the drops below, then came back to your face.

"You really want to do this?"

“Yes.”

His fingers grazed yours before he moved to stand behind you. Darkness settled across your vision the moment the fabric tightened, and your hands reached forward instinctively and found the front of his robes.

Zuko tied the knot, his fingertips caught in your hair once before pulling back.

"There," he said.

Toph rang the bell.

"Guides behind the markers. Blindfolded idiots in front."

The three pairs lined up side by side. Aang already had one hand wrapped around Katara’s wrist. Suki was physically holding Sokka in place before the round had even started. Behind you, Zuko's hands rested at your waist a moment longer than they needed to, then let go. His voice dropped near your ear.

"Ready?"

You smiled beneath the fabric. "With you? Always."

Toph gagged audibly and rang the bell. All three teams moved at the same time.

"Three steps forward," Zuko said from behind you. "Slowly." 

You obeyed, one hand lifted slightly in front of you as volcanic stone shifted unevenly underfoot. Without sight, every sound sharpened into something new: the ocean far below, ropes straining against their posts, and Sokka's voice already carrying from your left.

"You keep stepping sideways," Suki told him.

"I can't see sideways!"

Ahead, Katara and Aang were already moving in near-perfect rhythm.

"Small step," Aang said calmly. "Now right." Katara adjusted without hesitation.

Toph rang the bell.

"Hate to say it, Twinkletoes, but you two are disgustingly in sync."

"I know!" Aang answered cheerfully.

Zuko kept one hand hovering close enough to your back that you felt the warmth of it through your robes whenever you slowed.

"Careful," he said as your foot drifted toward the edge of a stone marker. "There's a gap."

You corrected. "I had it."

"You did not."

Your smile widened as something crashed to your left and Sokka's voice went sharp with indignation

"That was the starting lantern," Suki said.

"How was it there already?!" 

The path climbed higher between steaming channels cut into the cliffs. The air grew heavier with mineral warmth drifting up from below, and the footing narrowed. Your body had started the course braced for mistakes, but somewhere between Zuko's steady voice and the brief pressure of his hand steering you around sharper turns, you stopped bracing.

"Two steps left," he said. You followed. "Now duck.”

You dropped just before the swing of a hanging beam passed over your head.

Ahead, Katara laughed suddenly. You turned toward the sound despite the blindfold.

“What was that?”

"Aang forgot I couldn't see and pointed at me instead of speaking," she explained through laughter. 

Toph rang the bell. "Temporary setback. Still leading."

"What?!" Sokka shouted from somewhere far behind. "How are we losing already?"

A solid thunk sounded from farther down the course and Suki sighed.

“You’re hugging a post again.” 

By the time all three teams crossed the painted marker at the end of the Cliff Paths, breathless and windblown from the climb, the early nerves had burned off entirely. Everyone was moving faster, talking louder, and deeply committed to winning.

Toph rang the bell. "Current standings: Sugar Queen and Twinkletoes leading. Fireboy and Firegirl close behind."

"And us?" Sokka demanded.

Toph considered it. "Surviving."

"THAT'S NOT A RANK."

Suki patted his shoulder.

The second section looked genuinely dangerous to those without the blindfold. Narrow hanging bridges stretched between cliff edges above steaming water while ropes crossed overhead between wooden platforms rocking steadily in the wind. Small bells had been tied along the railings and support lines, chiming whenever the bridges moved too hard.

Toph grinned.

"Oh, this part's going to be good."

Sokka approached with his arms stretched out in front of him, moving with what he clearly believed was great caution.

"I want everyone to know that I'm approaching this with grace, athleticism, and emotional maturity..."

He walked directly into one of the bridge posts. The whole structure shook and every bell on it went off at once. Toph nearly fell off her rock laughing.

 "AND WE HAVE OUR FIRST CASUALTY."

"I HATE THIS ISLAND."

Suki turned him toward the correct direction, shaking too hard to speak.

Beside you, Zuko leaned closer.

"Still want to keep going?"

You smiled beneath the fabric.

"Are you asking because you're worried, or because you're competitive?"

"... Both."

The bridges swayed under every step and the bells punished any stumble, and without sight the constant shifting beneath your feet became disorienting. Zuko's hand steadied at your waist as the bridge tilted beneath your next step.

"Slow down. The boards narrow ahead."

To your right, Katara and Aang were already halfway across the first bridge. 

"Three steps," Aang said evenly. "Now left."

Irritation flared through your chest.

"Absolutely not," you muttered.

Zuko already sounded wary.

"What does that mean?"

"It means I’ve decided we're winning." You stepped forward before he could answer.

The second bridge was worse, the planks shifting unevenly beneath every step.

"Straight ahead," Zuko said. "Missing plank coming up."

"Small step?"

"Big one."

You stepped without hesitation and your foot landed cleanly on the other side.

By the time you reached the final bridge of the Crossing Grounds, only two teams still resembled functioning competitors. Sokka and Suki arrived several minutes later soaked from the knees down, one sleeve torn for reasons no one investigated, trailed by the ringing of what sounded like every bell on the course.

Toph rang her own bell in response.

"Fan and Sword are officially eliminated from competitive ranking!"

Sokka tore off his blindfold.

"THIS GAME IS RIGGED."

Suki kissed his cheek.

"You still looked handsome failing,” she said in what was more of a question.

"Thank you…”

You lifted your own blindfold just enough to blink against the light. The mist looked brighter now, the stone cooler after the heat of the second section. Beside you, Zuko checked your face before anything else.

"Are you alright?"

You nodded, then noticed Katara already looking up toward the final stretch above the terraces.

"Oh no…" you said.

Aang laughed under his breath.

"I know that face."

"I'm just saying," Katara replied, crossing her arms, "if we're already winning, it would be embarrassing not to finish."

"We are not losing to you!” you said immediately. 

Zuko looked slowly between the two of you.

"When did this get personal?" 

"Second bridge," Aang said helpfully.

Higher on the cliffs the last stretch emerged from the mist: uneven stone pillars rising from the volcanic channels below, connected by narrow platforms and hanging lines that swayed without stopping. The Leap. Near the starting marker, a set of fresh blindfolds sat folded beside the ropes. Zuko noticed them first.

"Why are there more blindfolds?"

"The final section switches roles,” Sokka's smile came back at full force. 

"No way.”

Toph rang the bell. "Too late. It's already a rule."

"This is perfect!” Katara said, delighted.

Aang accepted his blindfold with a serenity that bordered on unsettling.

Zuko looked up at the final stretch once more: pillars through drifting steam, narrow platforms, ropes over open drops. Then he stepped forward when you held the blindfold toward him. You tied it carefully behind his head, the wind pulling at loose strands of dark hair across his forehead. Up close you caught the slight tension in his jaw.

"We can still back out," you said.

"And let them win?” The corner of his mouth moved. “Absolutely not."

 "He admits we're competition," Katara pointed across at both of you.

"We passed competition twenty minutes ago," you said.

Toph rang the bell before either of you could continue.

"The Leap begins now."

Zuko moved carefully at first. Your hand stayed wrapped around his as you guided him across the first platform. He adjusted to every instruction without hesitation, his grip steady, his weight shifting the moment you told him where. The boards shifted as a hard gust swept across the cliffs, pulling at both of you, and you tightened your grip

Behind you, Katara and Aang were gaining. You could hear their footsteps landing almost in rhythm.

You moved faster, both of you finding a pace that didn't feel like caution anymore. The final stretch rose sharply between the last set of pillars, connected by planks barely wide enough to walk single-file.

You stepped onto the first one. The edge disappeared and the world tilted sideways in one sudden, lurching second.

Zuko reacted before you could. His arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you back against him in a single motion, turning toward you with the blindfold still tied across his eyes before the danger had even finished registering. The movement sent both of you stumbling together, catching against each other on the platform.

“Thank you,” you breathed out, your hands caught against his chest. 

Toph let out a grunt.

“If either of you starts kissing up there, I’m deducting points.”

You started moving again, faster now, side by side with Katara and Aang across the last sequence of platforms while wind pushed hard through the ropes above.

"Step up." Zuko adjusted instantly. "Left." Done. "Jump." His hand tightened around yours and both of you cleared the gap together.

Katara and Aang landed on the next platform in almost the same breath.

Toph's voice echoed up from below.

"THE BABY-MAKERS ARE CATCHING UP.

 "We were never behind!" Katara shouted back.

The final platform appeared through the mist

 "Three steps," you said quickly. "Then a small jump."

Aang was guiding Katara toward the same finish at nearly identical speed.

"This is stressful," Suki muttered.

Your feet hit the final platform at almost the exact moment Katara and Aang stumbled onto it beside you, both of them breathless from laughing and arguing at the same time.

Toph tilted her head toward the sound before planting one foot firmly against the stone.

Sokka yelped as the rocky platforms carrying him and Suki rose smoothly upward through the mist while sections of the obstacle course folded and reconnected beneath Toph’s bending, pulling everyone toward the final terrace where the four of you stood catching your breath.

Once all of you had gathered onto the main platform, Toph lifted the bell loosely in one hand and rang it.

“Tie.”

Katara threw both arms into the air. “YES!”

"We tied," you laughed.

"Which means we didn't lose.”

Zuko pulled off the blindfold with visible relief while Aang did the same, both of them blinking in the light and the lingering mist.

Toph tilted her head, thoughtfully.

"However..."

Katara stared at her in warning. "Toph."

"... After careful consideration, based on instinctive reaction speed under pressure..." Toph lifted the bell toward you and Zuko. "Extra point to Fireboy and Firegirl for the blindfold catch."

"WHAT?!" Katara gasped.

"I KNEW LOVE WOULD PREVAIL,” Sokka dropped to the ground in celebration. 

You turned to Zuko at the same moment he looked at you.

"We won," you said.

A laugh broke out of him completely unguarded as your hands grabbed the front of his robes. 

"We actually won!"

"Against all odds," he replied, though the grin spreading across his face made the dry tone impossible to sell.

You laughed and threw your arms around his neck without thinking and he caught your waist to keep you both upright, which nearly sent you both sideways off the platform regardless.

"Careful," he said through another laugh. "You're celebrating near cliffs."

"I don't care, we won!"

Sokka pointed up at both of you with pride.

"THAT'S MY TEAM."

"You cannot assign points based on romance!" Katara protested.

Toph shrugged lazily. 

"I can do whatever I want."

Katara crossed her arms while Aang laughed beside her.

"Aang and I could have done that too."

"Yes, look!" Aang agreed.

"Aang, wait—"

He threw himself backward with complete confidence she would catch him while Katara lunged after him in visible panic. A loud crash echoed through the platforms below, followed by the unmistakable sound of somebody hitting at least three wooden beams on the way down. 

 "...Aang?"

"...I misread the situation."

𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚

Sokka had somehow appointed himself official commentator of the entire event, loudly reenacting everyone's failures while the group made their way back toward the terraces overlooking the retreat.

"You should've seen your face when you almost fell," he told you, walking backward along the stone path with misplaced confidence. "Actually, no, you couldn't have seen it. Blindfold. Tragic."

"You screamed louder than I did throughout the whole game," you replied.

"That was a test for Suki."

Suki snorted beside him while Aang laughed, one hand linked with Katara's as they walked ahead. Even Toph looked quite happy, bell dangling from her fingers.

Zuko walked quieter than the others, though the grin at the corner of his mouth kept betraying him whenever Sokka mentioned the victory again.

"You look insufferably pleased with yourself," you murmured.

"I usually am."

You shook your head fondly and leaned up to kiss his cheek.

The retreat opened toward Whaletail Harbor. Bright strips of orange fabric snapped between rooftops while crowded dockways overflowed with people moving shoulder to shoulder beneath painted tide banners. Drums echoed over the water loud enough to reach the cliffs.

Sokka turned the second the bay came fully into view.

"And now!" he announced, spreading both arms wide enough he nearly hit Aang in the face again. "I present to you… the Tangerine Tide Festival!"

Even from this far above, the waterfront felt alive. Fishing boats drifted between the piers trailing paper streamers while children darted through the crowds carrying orange lanterns shaped like koi.

"Okay," Katara admitted quietly. "That looks beautiful."

"I know," Sokka said smugly. "Because I planned this vacation perfectly."

"Let's not forget you forged government documents," Zuko reminded him.

"Let's not forget you stayed."

Suki shook her head fondly before looping one arm through his.

"There's dancing near the square later," she explained while glancing toward the town. "And lantern boats after sunset."

"Oh, I remember those!” Aang said with excitement.

Toph tilted her head slightly toward the sounds rising from below.

"There's definitely food too."

"There's always food," Katara said.

"How it should be," Toph replied.

You leaned against the railing while the ocean wind tugged loose strands of hair free around your face. Zuko's shoulder brushed yours as both of you looked down toward the festival.

Hurried footsteps echoed along the terrace behind the group. You turned alongside the others just as two Air Acolytes came up through the paths leading deeper into the retreat, robes still settling from how fast they had climbed. Their expressions carried the specific kind of careful calm that meant the opposite of calm, and the laughter around the group faded without anyone consciously deciding to stop.

Aang straightened first.

"What happened?"

The older acolyte bowed quickly, still catching his breath. "Avatar Aang. We didn't want to interrupt the preparations unless it became necessary." His eyes moved briefly toward the town before coming back to the group. "There have been disturbances near the western sea caverns."

Toph's expression flattened.

"What kind?"

The younger acolyte answered, fingers tightening against his sleeves. "Fishermen reported hearing voices beneath the cliffs after sunset. Several guidefires along the lower docks extinguished on their own. And earlier this evening, two acolytes stationed near the old cavern shrines never returned from meditation."

The distant celebration continued drifting upward, indifferent against the growing tension.

"How long ago?" you asked. "Since anyone last saw them."

The younger acolyte glanced toward you.

"Just before the evening bell, Fire Lady. Two hours, perhaps a little more."

Two hours was long enough. You looked toward Zuko without meaning to and found he was already doing the same quiet calculation behind his eyes.

"The western caverns are adjacent to the old harbor tunnels," he said. The words came clipped and precise, already mapping the routes in his head. "I saw it on the way here. That network runs deep."

The older acolyte nodded once.

"Yes, Fire Lord. There's a shrine complex beneath them. The locals believe the sea routes there were once protected by a spirit bound to the island itself." He hesitated. "Construction crews expanding the lower docks may have broken into part of the caverns several weeks ago."

Aang exhaled through his nose while Katara's hand found his arm beside him.

"A spirit disturbance," she said. "On a populated island. During a public festival…"

"If the shrine network reaches beneath the docks, the disturbance could already be spreading through the lower caverns," you said. "And if people are gathering above them for the festival—"

"The lower access paths," Zuko finished immediately. "Some of them run directly over the tunnel entrances."

Aang's gaze shifted toward the glowing town.

"The missing acolytes are what I can't ignore," he said. "Whatever else is happening, there are still people down there."

Sokka had gone noticeably still. He looked between the festival lights and the group gathered on the terrace.

"So…" he said carefully. "We're not doing the tidefire boats."

"Sokka," Suki warned.

"I'm establishing the situation." Sokka crossed his arms. "Are we going now or waiting for something worse to happen first?"

Toph crouched and pressed two fingers against the volcanic stone beneath her feet.

"Something's been wrong under the western cliffs all day," she said. "I thought it was just the island settling."

The wind carried the faint noise of the crowd up from the waterfront. You thought about the cavern network beneath the cliffs, the missing acolytes, the broken shrine tunnels now sitting beneath a crowded festival.

"We should move before it gets darker," you said. "Whatever's happening down there, visibility is only going to get worse."

Aang looked once around the group the way he always did just before he stopped asking and started moving.

"Take us to the caverns."

𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆𐙚

note: thank you so SO much for the response on part 1, it truly made my entire week. lmk if the games bit are understandable bc it was a headache- idk why I keep doing this to myself lol. i hope you keep liking the series. thank you for reading! Xx

"nghh, o-oh fuck! feels so good zuko, d-don't stop!" you push your hips back.

and he doesn't. he takes you just like that, both arms wrapped around your body, keeping you right against him, his face buried in your neck as you clench around him.

you cried out in pure bliss as your orgasm crashed into you, your wet pussy gripping zuko's cock and milking him for all he's worth. hot cum spills into you, warming your dripping cunt as your husband gave you his seed.

he groaned low and deep into your neck, one hand coming up to squeeze your breast as milk leaked from your nipples. his hips twitching as he pushed every drop into you.

ঌ

your first baby, a darling girl named izumi, was born five years ago. you and zuko had been married only two months before you fell pregnant with her. you think it happened on your honeymoon to ember island.

then came little iroh, your sweet boy, who was born only ten months after his older sister. you had shown up to the throne room and interrupted zuko's council meeting. he met you at the bottom of the stairs after dismissing his flustered advisors, giving you a sloppy, lust filled kiss.

needless to say, zuko found it incredibly attractive that you demanded his attention like the fucking queen you were and took you on top of the throne.

your third hadn't been planned, another girl you called ursa, named after zuko's mother. you both were tired parents taking care of a menace of a toddler, and a teething five month old that refused to sleep in his cot or be handled by the nannies.

when you finally had a moment to yourself, zuko had taken you on a date night outside of the palace. a restaurant that was close enough to home should there be an emergency with the kids.

you had started to leak milk, two wet spots appearing where your nipples were. zuko's eyes darkened at the sight and when you made it back to the palace, he fucked you until you both passed out from exhaustion.

the fourth came two years later and was completely your decision. the driving force had been innocent.

zuko was playing with the children who were four, three and two years old. you found them in the inner courtyard, your husband being attacked by three mini versions of himself.

the area had been loud with the laughter of children as zuko gave each kid a turn at being tossed in the air before he caught them and moved them through the air like a ship.

you conceived that night, and nine months later came your youngest, another girl with chubby cheeks and the name himeko. she was the perfect combination of you and zuko.

now she was nearly one and you were entering your sixth month of pregnancy with your fifth child. you were tired, but so so content. you wouldn't change a thing.

but you were done.

you had given the fire nation plenty of heirs and decided it was time to settle down and focus on raising them.

ঌ

"oh come on guys!" sokka cried out at the sight of your swollen belly as you both welcomed the gang for a reunion.

you were surprised yourself to see katara had a bump of her own, aang blushing embarrassingly next to her.

ঌ

"izumi, do not throw fireballs at your brother!" zuko yelled, excusing himself from the table to gather your children.

she laughed menacingly as she rushed past the table of adults, chasing after her screaming brother.

"hi uncle aang, hi uncle sokka, hi auntie katara, hi auntie toph!" she managed to yell each name as zuko snatched her and iroh up, carrying them out of the room while scolding them.

"this is how you repay me for allowing you to stay up past your bedtime." his voiced carried out of the room.

yes, three of your five children had inherited the ability to fire bend. but iroh had taken after you. the sight of him using his little hands to earth bend filling you with pride.

himeko was young but one night, she had sneezed and the tiniest of flames escaped her little nose. zuko beamed, of course.

"are you guys trying to build your own seperate nation? that's five kids and you haven't even been married for a decade!"

you smirked at sokka, adjusting a sleeping himeko against your bump before saying "i think i'll have ten more just to spite you."

"as long as they're earth benders." toph added.

ঌ

three months later you welcomed your fifth baby. a boy, and he had been named zuko.

your labor had been rough. baby zuko took almost twenty four hours to come and you cursed your husband with every contraction and each push.

you were exhausted, sweat making your hair stick to your forehead as you held a squirming newborn to your chest. lifting your breast so he could feed.

zuko was still sat behind you as you laid your head back against him, the feel of milk letting down as your son began to drink. he had been in this position while you birthed his son, telling you just how strong you were and how much he loved you.

you felt your husband kiss the side of your head. “my wife. the mother of my children.”

you giggled and leaned deeper into him. “my husband. the father of my children.”

when the nanny brought the littles in to meet their brother, you passed the baby to zuko and allowed them to climb the bed as they raced to tackle you.

"careful little ones." zuko's voice carried over the sound of little giggles as he stood with his son cradled in his arms. a tiny little bundle against his massive figure.

you took himeko from the nanny once the older ones settled down.

"mommy, do i have a brother or another sister?" little iroh asked, eyes identical to his fathers, looking at you with so much hope. he and zuko had been outnumbered, your eldest son once crying to you about wanting a brother because he had too many sister.

"well.." you pretend to think about it. the girls giggle as iroh pouts in frustration. "i think you'll be happy to know that you and your father are no longer the only boys."

his face immediately lit up, his mouth falling open in excitement. he rushed off the bed to jump up and down next to zuko, begging to see the baby.

after the kids were all properly introduced to the newest member of the family, zuko took them away to settle them for bed. it was just you and the littlest one.

your heart swelled as he looked up at you with those royal golden-yellow eyes al of your children inherited from their dad.

this one, had been your spitting image.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀ঌ⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

note: i seen a tiktok that said they couldn't believe zuko only had one kid and honestly that's so real.

The Director had clearly been busy during the post-war boom. Aang’s character had been through three different actresses, Katara’s counterpart was somehow even more prone to theatrical sobbing, and the actor playing Toph was still a hulking, muscular man. Your own portrayal had been "enhanced" as well; the playwright had leaned heavily into your firebending temper, making you out to be a terrifyingly bitchy aristocrat. Sokka, meanwhile, was the only one pleased—having successfully bribed his actor to incorporate a crumpled list of "certified Grade-A Sokka jokes" into the script.

You were comfortably tucked under Zuko’s arm, his thumb tracing idle circles on your shoulder, when his stage counterpart made his grand entrance. You felt the familiar tension rise in Zuko’s frame as the actor shouted about his honor.

"Even after all this time," you whispered, leaning close so your breath tickled his ear, "the fact that they still haven't switched your scar to the right side is actually impressive."

A chorus of snickers erupted from the rest of the group. Zuko let out a soft huff of indignation, his face flushing a deep crimson as he gave your shoulder a playful pinch in retaliation. You poked his cheek, grinning when he tried to maintain his "stoic Fire Lord" facade, before shifting to stand.

"I’ll be back," you announced, smoothing out the invisible crinkles of your skirt. "I need some fresh air before the 'Secret Tunnel' musical number starts."

"Don't get lost on the way back," Sokka chirped, his eyes glued to the stage as he shoveled a handful of fire flakes into his mouth. "The halls are confusing for people who aren't master navigators like me."

You reached over and gave his man-bun a sharp flick. Sokka let out a dramatic yelp of feigned agony, fumbling for a fire flake to hurl at your head. You dodged it with effortless grace, your soft laughter echoing through the box as you slipped through the heavy curtains.

Inside the box, silence lingered for exactly three minutes before Zuko awkwardly cleared his throat. He shifted in his seat, adjusting his high collar as if it had suddenly become too tight.

"I’ll also, uh... grab some fresh air," he muttered, rising with a stiff formality that fooled absolutely no one. "Just to make sure she didn't... actually get lost. This theater is a maze."

As the curtains swished shut behind him, Toph kicked her feet up on the railing, a wicked smirk crossing her face.

"He's lying," she said nonchalantly, feeling the frantic, heavy thrum of Zuko’s heartbeat through the floorboards. She let out a loud cackle when Sokka immediately choked on a fire flake.

The cool night air of Ember Island was a relieving contrast to the stuffy, velvet-draped balcony box, but you hadn’t walked far. You knew you didn’t have to wait long before the doors opened behind you.

You were leaning against a pillar, the moonlight catching the gold embroidery of your outfit. When Zuko appeared, looking flustered and scanning the shadows a slow smirk pulled at your lips.

"Found me already?" you purred. You hooked a finger into the high, gold-trimmed collar of your outfit, tugging it just enough to invite the breeze. "And here I thought you were worried about my sense of direction."

Zuko didn't waste time with excuses. He crossed the distance in a few hurried strides, his boots crunching on the gravel before he pinned you against the stone. "You knew I’d follow you," he rasped, his voice dropping into that low, gravelly register that always made your toes curl.

"Oh I counted on it," you whispered, reaching up to tangle your fingers in the dark hair at the nape of his neck and bringing him down to your height.

The kiss was far from polite affection of the palace; it was hungry and desperate, fueled by weeks of formal meetings and long distance. You were bold, nipping at his lower lip and pulling him closer until there was no space left between you, your breasts pressing up against his chest.

You shifted your weight, intentionally letting the deep slit of your skirt fall open. Your bare leg brushed against the heavy fabric of his trousers, a bold invitation that Zuko accepted without hesitation or the need of words. His hand slid down, his palm hot—perpetually simmering with the fire beneath his skin—as he found the exposed curve of your thigh.

His fingers flared, his grip firm as he squeezed the soft skin there, hitching your leg up slightly to bring your hips flush against his. A soft, breathless moan escaped your throat, swallowed by his mouth as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips with a frantic sort of worship and desperation.

"The play..." Zuko managed to mutter against your jaw, his breath hitching as you nipped at his earlobe. "They'll... they'll notice we're gone too long."

"Let them," you breathed, your voice thick with heat. "I'm much more interested in the 'alone time' I promised you."

You guided his hand higher up your thigh, your heart wildly hammering against your ribs. Zuko groaned, a low sound of pure want, and was just about to bury his face in the crook of your neck when the doors creaked open with a violent thud.

"HOLY HOG MONKEYS!"

Sokka’s voice boomed through the garden like a lightning strike.

The two of you freeze. Zuko’s hand was still firmly cupping your thigh, your arms were draped over his shoulders, and your hair was a bird's nest of redirected passion. You peeked over his shoulder just in time to see four bodies enter the garden.

The Gaang stood there in various states of shock. Sokka froze mid-chew, a half-eaten moon peach in his hand, his eyes bulging, Katara had her hands over her face, though her fingers were suspiciously wide apart, Aang turned a shade of pink that rivaled a sunset, and Toph—despite her blindness—was grinning directly at your location.

"Oh, wow," Aang squeaked, spinning around instantly. "The stars! Look at how... sparkly the stars are tonight!"

"Told you they weren't looking for 'fresh air,'" Toph cackled, pointing a thumb back at the theater. "The vibrations out here were getting... intense."

"My eyes!" Sokka finally wailed, dropping his snack. "Zuko! She’s like a sister to me! I’m traumatized!"

Zuko didn't move for a long, agonizing second, his forehead dropping onto your shoulder with a heavy thud of pure defeat. Slowly, he retracted his hand from your leg, though he pointedly took his time to smooth your skirt back down before turning around. His face was a shade of crimson so dark it was almost purple.

"The play broke for intermission," Aang squeaked. "We just... thought we’d join you."

"Well," you said, your voice regaining its playful edge, "now that you're all here... does anyone want to tell me if the stage-version of me finally stopped complaining?"

"Actually," Katara managed, finally finding her voice as she steered the group away, "I think we’ll just go find some water. Lots of water. To uh wash our brains."

As the doors slammed shut, followed by the muffled sound of Sokka’s indignant yelling, you looked at Zuko. He looked at you.

"Sooo..." a mischievous glint in your eyes as you looped your arms back around his neck. "Where were we?"

Zuko let out a short, breathy laugh, shaking his head. "I am never taking them on vacation again."

You sat on the edge of the bed, watching Zuko sleep. At twenty-four, the Fire Lord looked older than his years when he was awake, burdened by the crown and endless meetings. But in sleep, his face smoothed out, looking more like the boy you had met all those years ago.

You pressed a hand to your stomach. You knew. You’d seen a healer in the lower plaza under a fake name, and the news had hit you like one of those boulders Toph would chuck at you during training sessions: four months. You were four months pregnant.

Bile rose in your throat. Five years was a long time to be dating, but Zuko hadn’t mentioned marriage. Not once. He talked about the future of the nation, about rebuilding, about his legacy—but never about a wedding. Did he even want kids? He was so focused on being a better man than his father that you worried he was scared to be a father at all.

For a week, you lived like a ghost in your own home. You ate dinner with him, kissed him goodbye before his council meetings, and practiced your firebending in the courtyard, all while your secret grew inside you. Every time he touched your waist or pulled you close, you flinched ever so slightly, terrified he would somehow feel the change in you.

By the seventh day, the pressure became too much. You couldn't tell him—not yet. You needed someone who knew Zuko better than anyone. You needed a person who lived outside the walls of duty and expectation.

Without a word or a note, you packed a small bag, slipped past the palace guards using the secret routes Zuko had once shown you, and boarded a ship heading for Ba Sing Se.

The Jasmine Dragon was quiet when you arrived. The scent of brewing leaves and steamed buns usually made you feel at home, but today, it just made you want to cry.

Uncle Iroh was wiping down a table when you stepped through the door. He didn't look surprised; he just smiled that soft, knowing smile and set his rag down.

"I believe I have just the blend for a weary traveler," he said, gesturing to a private booth in the back.

You sat down, and the moment the steam from the tea hit your face, the dam broke. You told him everything. You told him about the pregnancy, about the fear that Zuko wasn't ready, and about how much you hated yourself for running away.

"He’s Fire Lord, Iroh," you whispered, gripping your cup. "He has to think about heirs and tradition. What if he thinks I did this to trap him? What if he doesn't want a family because of... everything that happened with Ozai?"

Iroh reached across the table, his warm hand covering yours. "My nephew has spent his life learning how to love, my dear. He does not see you as a 'tradition' or a 'trap.' He sees you as his home. But I suspect he is currently making a very large scene back at the palace trying to find you."

"I just...needed a moment to breathe," you sighed, leaning back. "I feel like I'm carrying the weight of the whole world."

"You are carrying a life," Iroh corrected gently. "That is not a weight. It is a gift. Even if the timing feels like a storm, remember that flowers need rain to grow."

You spent the next few days helping Iroh in the shop. It was peaceful. You helped serve tea, you walked through the Middle Ring gardens, and for a moment, you felt like a normal girl again, not the secret girlfriend of the world’s most powerful firebender.

But peace never lasted long when the Avatar and his friends were involved.

It was a Tuesday afternoon. The shop was half-full when the front doors didn't just open—they flew off their hinges.

"Uncle! She isn't here! The guards at the harbor said a woman matching her description got on a ferry, but—"

Zuko’s voice cut through the air like a blade. He looked like a wreck. His hair was messy, his robes were wrinkled, and his eyes were bloodshot. Behind him stood Aang, Katara, Sokka, and Toph, all looking equally exhausted and worried.

Zuko stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes landed on you, sitting at a corner table with a plate of half-eaten dumplings.

For a second, nobody moved. Then, Zuko was across the room in three long strides. He didn't yell. He didn't demand answers. He simply crashed into you, wrapping his arms around you so tightly you could barely breathe. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, and you could feel him shaking.

"I thought someone took you," he choked out, his voice muffled by your hair. "I thought Ozai’s loyalists found a way into the palace. I thought I’d lost you forever."

"Zuko, I'm sorry," you whispered, hugging him back. "I just... I had to get away."

The rest of the group gathered around, a mix of relief and confusion on their faces. Sokka looked like he wanted to complain about the frantic trip, but Katara shushed him.

"We've been searching for a week," Aang said softly. "Zuko wouldn't eat or sleep. We had to fly Appa through a storm to get here."

Zuko pulled back just enough to cup your face in his hands. His thumbs traced your cheekbones. "Why didn't you tell me? Whatever it is, whatever is wrong, we can fix it. If you’re unhappy in the palace, we’ll change things. Just don’t leave me again."

You looked at his face—the desperation, the raw love—and felt like the biggest idiot in the world. You had been so scared of his reaction that you’d ignored the man he actually was.

Toph, who had been standing back with her arms crossed, suddenly tilted her head. Her milky eyes focused somewhere around your midsection. She frowned, her feet shifting on the wooden floorboards.

"Uh, Sparky?" Toph said, interrupting the moment.

Zuko didn't look away from you. "Not now, Toph."

"No, seriously," she insisted, stepping closer. "I think I know why she ran away. Or at least, why she’s acting weird."

"Toph, give them some space," Katara whispered, reaching for the earthbender's arm.

"I’m just saying!" Toph shrugged her off. "I can hear it. It’s faint, but there’s definitely a second little pitter-patter in there. A really fast one."

The room went dead silent. Zuko’s hands froze on your cheeks. He looked down at your stomach, then back up at your eyes. His mouth opened, but no sound came out.

"Toph..." you breathed, your face turning bright red. "I was going to tell him."

"Wait," Sokka’s jaw dropped. "A second heartbeat? Like... a baby? Is there a baby in there?"

"Four months," you whispered, looking only at Zuko.

Zuko’s knees seemed to give out slightly. He dropped his hands to your waist, his fingers splaying across your stomach with a reverence you’d never seen. He looked terrified, but beneath the terror was a spark of something that looked a lot like wonder.

Uncle Iroh stepped forward, clapping his hands together. "Alright, everyone! I think the Jasmine Dragon is closed for a private tea ceremony. Aang, Sokka, why don't we go find some meat skewers down the street? Let's give these two some air."

With some grumbling from Sokka and a knowing wink from Iroh, the shop was cleared out. The broken door was pulled shut as best as it could be, leaving you and Zuko alone in the golden afternoon light.

Zuko still hadn't moved his hands. He was staring at your belly as if he expected it to start talking to him.

"Four months?" he finally asked.

"Yeah," you said, your voice trembling. "I’m sorry I ran. I was just... I was scared, Zuko. You haven't asked me to marry you, and you're so busy being Fire Lord, and I didn't know if you wanted this. I didn't want to be a burden."

Zuko let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. He pulled you into his lap, sitting on the bench and tucking your head under his chin.

"A burden?" he repeated. "I was going to propose on the anniversary of our first date next month. I’ve had the ring in my desk for half a year. I was just waiting for the perfect moment because I wanted everything to be right for you."

You pulled back, staring at him. "You have a ring?"

"Of course I have a ring," he said, a bit of his usual grumpiness returning to hide his emotion. "I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment I realized you were everything I wanted."

He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours. "As for being Fire Lord... my father didn't care about his family. He only cared about power. I want to be the opposite of him in every way. If that means I spend my days ruling and my nights rocking a cradle, then that’s the best life I can imagine."

You felt a massive weight lift off your shoulders. You reached up, running your fingers through his hair. "So you're not mad?"

"I’m furious that you ran away," he admitted, his eyes darkening for a second. "I was scared to death. But about the baby?" He let out a long breath, a small, genuine smile breaking across his face. "I think I'm going to be the happiest man in the world. Even if Toph found out before I did."

"She does have a way of ruining surprises," you joked, leaning into him.

Zuko kissed you then—a long, slow kiss that tasted like home and jasmine tea. For the first time in weeks, the churning in your stomach stopped. You weren't alone in this anymore.

"We should probably go tell them we're okay," you said after a while, though you didn't move.

"In a bit," Zuko whispered, his hand still resting gently over your heart and the tiny life growing beneath it. "Let's just stay here for a minute."

Outside, you could hear Sokka arguing with Iroh about whether sea-prunes belonged in tea, and Toph laughing loudly at a something Aang made. But inside the shop, it was quiet, warm, and finally, perfectly right.

Zuko entered the room with a tray, his footsteps intentionally soft. He had traded the regal stride of a Fire Lord for the hesitant shuffle of a man walking on thin ice. He looked older—not just from the years that had passed since the war, but from the exhaustion etched into the lines around his golden eyes.

"I brought the tea Iroh sent from Ba Sing Se," he murmured, setting the tray down. "It’s a blend meant to settle the spirit."

(Y/N) didn’t turn her head. Her gaze remained fixed on the balcony, where the sunlight of Caldera City mocked her with its vibrancy. "My spirit is settled, Zuko. It’s buried. There’s a difference."

Zuko flinched. He sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out for her hand, but stopped himself. He remembered the warrior she had been—the way she used to dance through fire-bending forms, her laughter a sharp, bright contrast to his own brooding nature. Now, she was a ghost haunting her own skin.

"The healers are coming back tomorrow," he said, his voice straining to hold onto a hope that she clearly didn’t share. "Katara is arriving from the South Pole. She thinks that with the poison fully purged, we can start the physical—"

"I can’t feel my feet." Her voice was a flat, jagged thing. "I can’t feel the floor. I can’t even feel the sheets against my skin unless I look down to confirm they’re there. Why are we pretending, Zuko? Why are you keeping me in this cage?"

"It’s not a cage, (Y/N). It’s your home."

"A home is a place you live in," she snapped, finally looking at him. Her eyes were rimmed with red, the fire in them replaced by a cold, dark resentment. "I’m just waiting here. I’m a statue you have to dust off and feed ocassionally."

Zuko stood up abruptly, the tray rattling. "Don't say that. You’re the woman I love. You’re the person who stood by me when the whole world wanted my head. I am not giving up on you just because you’ve decided to give up on yourself."

He stormed out, the heavy doors thudding shut behind him. (Y/N) closed her eyes, a single tear tracking a path down her cheek. She hated him for his hope. It felt like a demand she couldn’t meet.

The arrival of the Gaang should have felt like a reunion, but to (Y/N), it felt like a funeral procession. Sokka’s jokes were forced and died quickly in the heavy air of her chambers. Aang’s gentle smile was tempered by a profound sadness he couldn't quite hide behind his monk’s composure. Toph, usually the loudest of them all, was uncharacteristically quiet, her feet sensing the stillness in (Y/N)’s lower half—a vibration that simply wasn't there.

The days blurred into a cycle of humiliation and pain. There were the stretches that made her muscles scream while her nerves remained silent. There were the moments when she tried to stand, supported by Aang’s airbending and Zuko’s strong arms, only to collapse into a heap of useless limbs and sob quietly into Zuko’s chest.

The worst part was the pity. It was in the way they whispered in the hallways, the way they looked at her like she was a broken vase, sharp pieces sprawled on the floor.

One evening, after a particularly grueling session where she had failed to even twitch a muscle, (Y/N) found herself alone with Zuko in the gardens. He had carried her to a stone bench overlooking the koi pond.

"I wish you would just yell at me," (Y/N) whispered, watching a bright orange fish break the surface. "I wish you’d get angry that I’m not getting better."

Zuko sat beside her, his hand finally finding hers and gripping it tight. "I am angry, (Y/N). I’m furious. I’m angry at the men who did this. I’m angry at the universe for taking so much from someone who gave everything to save it. But I could never be angry at you for being hurt."

"I’m not hurt," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I’m broken."

"The Fire Nation was broken," Zuko said firmly. "I was broken. My face is a map of where I was broken. But we’re still here. You’re still here."

"I’d rather be dead than be a burden," she spat, the words tasting like ash.

Zuko’s grip tightened until it almost hurt. "You are not a burden. You are my heart. If I have to carry you for the next fifty years, I will do it gladly. But don’t you dare tell me your life is worth less because you can't walk."

The thought of never walking again was a physical weight. A suffocating blanket that neither of them could throw off. (Y/N) felt like a spirit, watching her life happen from the sidelines, while Zuko felt like he was watching the person he loved drown in a shallow pool, unable to pull her out.

A week later, Katara cleared the room. Even Zuko was shooed out.

The room was filled with the scent of jasmine and the thick, humid heat of the natural springs. Katara helped (Y/N) sit, and lowered her slowly into a deep stone tub filled with mineral-rich water. She stood behind her outside of the tub, her sleeves rolled up, her movements fluid and calm.

As the warm water rose to (Y/N)’s waist, she felt... nothing. Just the familiar, terrifying void where her lower body should be.

"I know that look," Katara said softly, her hands moving through the water, creating gentle ripples that pulsed against (Y/N)’s skin.

"What look?" (Y/N) asked, her head lolling back against the rim.

"The look of someone who has decided the battle is over before the final blow is struck." Katara’s voice wasn't judgmental; it was weary. "I saw it in the mirror for months after the war. I saw it in my father when my mother was taken. It’s the look of someone who thinks their trauma is the only thing left of them."

(Y/N) laughed, a dry, bitter sound. "You’re the Master Healer, Katara. You’re the hero. You don't get to talk to me about being a victim."

"I was a girl in a village who watched her mother get taken to save her," Katara said, her eyes flashing with a sudden, sharp intensity. "I spent years carrying the weight of an entire tribe on my shoulders while the boy I loved was the target of the entire world. I have been broken in ways that don't show up physically. I’ve felt that same helplessness—that same belief that the world would be better off if I just disappeared into the snow."

Katara moved closer, her hands glowing with a soft, blue light as she submerged them near (Y/N)’s hips.

"The poison is gone, (Y/N). The physical blockage is cleared. What’s left is the wall you’ve built to protect yourself from the disappointment of failing. You’re so afraid of trying and failing that you’ve chosen to fail by default."

"It hurts," (Y/N) whispered, her eyes watering. "Every time I try and nothing happens, it kills a little more of me."

"Then let it kill the part of you that’s afraid," Katara urged. She took (Y/N)’s hand under the water, pressing it against her own thigh. "Feel the water. Don't try to move your legs. Just feel the heat. Feel the weight of it. Your body is still yours. It’s not your enemy."

(Y/N) sobbed, her shoulders shaking. "I can’t. Katara, I can’t."

"You can," Katara insisted, her voice a steady anchor in the steam. "I’m not asking you to walk. I’m not asking you to stand. I’m asking you to exist in this moment. Right here. With me."

Katara’s bending became more focused. The water began to swirl in rhythmic patterns around (Y/N)’s feet, stimulating the nerve endings with precise, pressured currents.

"The world is still waiting for you," Katara whispered. "Zuko is sitting outside that door, probably burning a hole in the floorboards with his pacing. He doesn’t want a warrior. He wants you. But you have to want you, too."

(Y/N) looked down through the clear, steaming water. She saw her legs, pale and still. She thought of the poison, the cold, metallic slide of it through her veins. She thought of the anger she had used as a shield to keep Zuko at a distance, because if she pushed him away, she wouldn't have to see her own reflection in his worried eyes.

She breathed in the jasmine. She let the warmth of the spring seep into her pores. She stopped fighting the water and started listening to it.

Just one thing, she thought. Just one small proof that I’m still in here.

She focused every ounce of her will—the same will that had faced down armies and mastered elements—into the tip of her right foot. She didn't think about the miles she couldn't walk. She thought about a single, infinitesimal point of contact between her mind and her flesh.

Move.

Deep beneath the surface, shrouded by the blue glow of Katara’s healing and the swirling eddies of the spring, a big toe twitched. It was a movement of perhaps a fraction of an inch, a tiny ripple in the vast stillness of her paralysis.

(Y/N) gasped, her heart hammering against her ribs.

Katara’s eyes widened. She didn't cheer. She didn't shout. She simply squeezed (Y/N)’s hand, a fierce, knowing smile breaking across her face. "I saw it."

(Y/N) leaned her forehead against Katara’s shoulder, her tears finally falling for a different reason. The feeling of hopelessness hadn't vanished; the road ahead was still long, steep, and paved with a thousand more failures. But the silence had been broken.

Outside the door, Zuko heard the sound of (Y/N) weeping—not the hollow, hopeless sound of the last six months, but a raw, cleansing sound. He leaned his head against the wood, closing his eyes as his own breath hitched in relief. For the first time since the accident, the fire in his heart didn't feel like it was flickering out. It felt like a spark hitting dry kindling.

They weren't whole yet, but they were no longer just waiting to end.