[CHAPTER SEVENTEEN]
when FIRELORD ZUKO takes a liking to AVATAR AANG'S mysterious new BRIDE.
TORN BETWEEN TWO ROADS ! — aang x reader x zuko
PLOT. republic city is finally at peace, and for once, katara allows herself to hope—maybe now, after everything, she and aang can finally become something real. but when aang returns after eight months, he isn’t alone. he comes back with you at his side, introducing you as his wife. suspicious yet helpless, his friends do their best to welcome you, even as nothing about this sudden marriage makes sense. but while everyone else keeps their distance, one person doesn’t. and perhaps Zuko gets a little too comfortable with the avatar’s new wife.
CHARACTERS. AANG and ZUKO.
CHAPTER WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, blood, injections, angst, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.
(please check the story masterlist for the story warnings.)
WC. 8.7k.
masterlist : story masterlist
chapter sixteen
art creds :: chamiii07, ilameys
a/n: now that the atla movie is officially out, i finally got around to watching it, and my goodness did katara steal my heart. ANYWAYS, aang is back babyy! this took so long to edit, i think this is the longest chapter so far.
After a returning palace physician had carried you from the ruined chambers to the Fire Lord's private rooms, the corridors remained crowded with servants and guards under the orders of Zuko to prioritize your safety.
Within the Fire Lord's chambers, the physician remained seated beside the bed, replacing blood-soaked dressings with careful hands while another attendant prepared fresh bandages over a basin of steaming water.
Your breathing remained uneven beneath the lingering effects of terror and exhaustion; the healing wound across your shoulder had reopened during the struggle with Princess Azula, but fortunately you had managed to restrict your movements in the heated predicament enough to not interfere with the healing process.
After a minimal examination, the physician assured the Fire Lord that no lasting damage had been done, but his words had done little to ease the expression upon Zuko's face.
"My lord," the physician said, bowing deeply, "I shall treat her wound properly now."
Zuko inclined his head, not catching the physician's suggestion beneath his sentence as he questioned him worriedly.
"What caused her to lose consciousness? Has she lost too much blood?"
"I cannot say with certainty. Her body has endured a great deal within a very short span of time. Shock alone could have rendered her unconscious; I suspect she must have had trouble with sleep the night before. Was the lady able to rest at all after getting injured?"
"I can't be certain..." For a long moment, Zuko looked toward the bed before his gaze snapped to one of the maids who had spoken up.
"My lord..." she began softly, clasping her hands before her.
"The Lady did not seem herself after you left this afternoon. She appeared terribly fatigued despite what she told us and requested that we not disturb her for the remainder of the day, saying she wished only to rest."
The maid paused briefly, recalling the events after she had provided you with your prescribed medicine.
"I returned a while later to ensure her condition had not worsened. She remained asleep, though..." Her brows knitted together uncertainly.
"She appeared deeply distressed. She was tossing in her sleep, her breathing had become rather uneven, and it seemed as though she was having a terrible dream. I attempted to wake her, but she never opened her eyes. After several moments she settled on her own, and seeing that her breathing had steadied once more, I believed it best not to disturb her further."
The physician listened thoughtfully before giving a slow nod of understanding.
"That is hardly surprising," he said quietly, returning his attention to Zuko. "She had endured a grievous wound. Such experiences often linger long after the body has been treated, and it is not uncommon for the mind to continue reliving them through restless sleep."
His expression softened as he folded another clean dressing into place to prepare dressing your wound.
"At a time such as this, My Lord, medicine alone will not be enough. If it is at all possible, I would advise surrounding her with those she trusts most. The presence of family, or someone dear to her, may do far more for her recovery than any remedy, particularly after the events of this evening."
The room grew quiet.
Zuko's eyes lingered upon your sleeping figure, his thoughts already drifting toward the one person whose presence would ease your fears more than anyone else's.
"...The Avatar should be returning by tomorrow," he said at last, but the words left him far more quietly than he intended.
No one noticed the faint hesitation that preceded them.
No one, save perhaps the old physician, could have guessed that what weighed upon the Fire Lord was not uncertainty over the Avatar's arrival, but dread over the conversation that inevitably awaited him.
Aang would return to find his wife wounded, having survived two attempts upon her life beneath Zuko's protection, and since ascending the throne, Zuko found himself unsure of what he could possibly say that would make any of it easier to bear.
The physician followed his gaze, his expression softening almost imperceptibly.
"She survived tonight, Fire Lord." His voice remained gentle. "Allow her body the opportunity to remember that. Now, I shall tend to the Lady, My lord."
Zuko gave him a nod, his eyes examining you for another moment to truly make sure you were breathing, before he followed after his guards, closing the doors quietly behind him.
Outside, nearly two dozen Royal Guards stood stationed throughout the corridor, far more than the wing had ever required in it's existence. None spoke as their Fire Lord passed, though every one of them straightened on instinct as he walked past them.
"Keep these chambers guarded," Zuko instructed without slowing his pace.
"No one enters without my permission."
"Yes, Fire Lord."
He continues toward the council chamber and the meeting had already begun by the time he arrived.
Maps of the palace had been spread across the central table alongside reports gathered from surviving guards.
His uncle stood near the head of the room speaking quietly with the Grand Chamberlain, the Commander of the Royal Guard, and the captain responsible for palace security, their conversation falling silent the moment the doors opened.
Every man bowed.
"My lord."
Zuko acknowledged them with a slight inclination of his head before stepping toward the table.
"Begin."
"We have accounted for every infiltrator who entered the palace yesterday, Your Majesty. Though it seems Princess Azula acted alone today and was the only one involved in today's incident."
"Where is she now?"
"Confined beneath the western prison, away from Ozai as you asked."
"The restraints?"
"They have been doubled."
Zuko's expression remained unchanged. "Triple them."
The commander gave no hesitation with her response as he nodded. "...Yes, Fire Lord."
"How did she get in?"
"I think she never left, Zuko." Iroh answers his nephew, which only makes Zuko face contort with worry, because they had no way to know unless asked of Azula herself.
"There remains one matter we have yet to determine with certainty, Fire Lord. We have not discovered how Princess Azula escaped the Asylum."
Zuko's gaze lifted sharply from the layout before him.
"The palace never received word of it." he noted, unable to keep the his concern from creeping into his voice.
When the commander slowly shook his head, the calm composure Zuko had maintained throughout the meeting began to crack.
"it should be impossible," he said more firmly, resting both hands against the edge of the table.
"The asylum answers directly to the throne. Had my sister escaped, this palace should have been informed before she ever reached the capital, let alone infiltrated the royal residence."
"We share your confusion, Fire Lord," the Grand Chamberlain replied.
"At present, there are only two explanations that appear plausible. Either Princess Azula escaped with the assistance of those aligned with the Shinu, and no report was ever dispatched from the asylum in the first place, or the report was sent as protocol demands, but someone intercepted it before it could reach the palace."
The room fell into a thoughtful silence as the implication settled over everyone present. Neither possibility offered comfort, for both required the involvement of someone beyond the asylum's walls.
Whether through the Shinu or another unseen ally, Azula had not acted alone, and somewhere within the Fire Nation there remained hands willing to aid the former princess despite a decade of confinement.
Zuko exhaled slowly, though it did little to calm the frustration tightening in his chest.
"According to the prisoners, Azula approached the Shinu Clan after her escape. So it could only be the latter. Trace every courier who travelled between the asylum and the capital in the past few weeks," he ordered.
"Question every checkpoint commander, every messenger, every officer responsible for carrying royal correspondence. If a report existed, I want to know where it disappeared."
"It shall be done, Fire Lord."
His eyes remained fixed upon the map for only another moment before another thought forced itself to the forefront of his mind.
"...What of the guards?" he asked quietly. "The men I stationed outside The Lady's chambers before leaving for the prison, and those I later ordered to reinforce the eastern wing."
The Commander of the Royal Guard stepped forward, unfolding another report from the stack before him.
"The additional men you ordered never reached the chambers, Your Majesty. They were discovered unconscious inside an abandoned storage room along the eastern corridor."
Zuko frowned. "How?"
"They had regained consciousness only shortly before this meeting," the commander answered.
"According to their testimony, they heard repeated banging coming from one of the unused rooms while making their way toward the Lady's chambers. Believing something amiss, they diverted to investigate. They found the room empty and, as they turned to leave, both recalled feeling a sharp strike at the base of the neck before losing consciousness."
Had it been Azula? Or was someone helping her?
"And the guards already stationed outside her chambers?" Zuko pressed.
Another officer stepped forward to answer. "They, too, have been questioned, Fire Lord. They admit they abandoned their post, though they believed they were acting under your authority."
"My authority?" Zuko repeated, the words carrying more irritation than he should have shown.
"The woman we now know to have been Princess Azula approached them disguised as one of the palace attendants assigned to the lady's care." The officer glanced briefly toward the written statement in his hands before continuing.
"She carried the physician's medicine tray and questioned why they remained outside the chambers. When the guards informed her they had received no new orders, she appeared surprised and told them that Your Majesty had summoned every available guard to the western wing of the palace."
"They never questioned her word?" Zuko asked in disbelief.
"The men hesitated, but when they looked into the corridor, they found it nearly deserted. The reinforcements Your Majesty had dispatched had already been diverted before reaching them, leaving the eastern passage almost entirely empty. Princess Azula assured them she had been instructed to remain with the Avatar's wife until they returned and, believing she was merely another palace attendant, they left their post."
No one spoke for several moments as all present in the room absorbed the shame of the incident. The deception had been disturbingly simple, relying solely on timing.
"If my dear brother hadn't been so hospitable...I never would've found the perfect piece." "You invited the Avatar's wife into your palace. You placed her beneath your own roof and simply handed me that leverage." "You are attacking a woman who had nothing to do with this." "Oh, she has everything to do with this." "You are so weak, Zuzu. The only ace you have up your sleeve is Aang. If only she had died, maybe he would no longer hold your hand. But I suppose this for the better, because it seems the Avatar would tear this nation apart for her." "And so would I."
Zuko closed his eyes briefly before drawing another slow breath. "She was right. I gave her the leverage. She planned it all."
"I do not believe she planned all of it," Iroh said quietly, making Zuko turn to his Uncle to hear his thoughts.
"The attack upon the palace was intended to hurt the Avatar's wife, they wished to forfeit her life. But by the will of the spirits she remains her with us. I believe the Shinu heard of it, and today they were meant to remove her quietly while the rest of us were occupied with the prisoners."
His gaze shifted toward his nephew.
"But witnessing their failure, Azula ceased relying upon others. She acted on her own accord."
Zuko looked back toward the table, his thoughts returning to the duel only an hour earlier. Throughout the fighting she had barely used her fire until cornered, and even then her movements had lacked the effortless stamina he remembered from years ago.
Her strikes remained as precise and dangerous as ever, but she had tired more quickly, her complexion paling with every passing exchange until he finally managed to force the opening that allowed the guards to restrain her.
Had she possessed the same endurance she once carried beneath Sozin's Comet...
The thought lingered unfinished in his mind. He found, to his own discomfort, that he did not wish to know how differently that fight might have ended.
"My sister will remain confined beneath the western prison until morning," he said at last. "I want the physicians to examine her mental stability before any interrogation begins. Once they have determined she is fit to answer questions..." He hesitated before he would cement his next words,
"...I shall...question her myself."
The Commander of the Royal Guard bowed. "As you command, Fire Lord. It shall be done"
Zuko inclined his head once.
"You are all dismissed."
One after another, the ministers gathered their reports and withdrew from the council room, the officers following close behind until only the Grand Chamberlain lingered back, giving Zuko a bow once more before quietly closing the doors behind him.
Silence settled over the room as Iroh could only watch his nephew for several moments before speaking.
"You are troubled."
Zuko let out a humorless breath, lowering his eyes to the reports still lying before him.
"I...do not believe I should be the one to question her. I would ask that you do it in my stead."
Iroh's brows lifted ever so slightly as he regarded him quietly.
"You know I would do almost anything for you, nephew." His voice remained as gentle as ever. "But this is not one of those things."
Zuko finally looked up.
"Why?"
"Because she is your responsibility."
Bothered by his statement, Zuko straightened himself up, giving Iroh a defying gaze, one that he hadn't seen on his nephew's features for years.
"She is no longer merely my niece, nor simply your sister. She has become a threat to the Fire Nation itself, and more importantly...to the Avatar's wife." His gaze softened before he continued.
"If you cannot bring yourself to face her now, then she has already accomplished part of what she came here to do."
Zuko fell silent once more; his hands rested against the edge of the table, his thoughts had long wandering back to you.
"I was afraid," he admitted quietly and Iroh did not interrupt.
"When Azula held the blade to the Lady's her neck...for the first time in years, I found myself wondering whether I would be able to stop her in time." His voice grew fainter as the memory returned with uncomfortable clarity.
He closed his eyes briefly before continuing.
"She was not fighting as she once did. Her movements were slower. Had she recovered fully..." He swallowed, unable to keep the thought from lingering.
"I am not certain I would have subdued her before she reached succeeded in doing what she had intended."
The confession remained suspended in the quiet chamber.
After several moments, Zuko drew another slow breath.
"Even when she told me she wouldn't kill her, I simply couldn't rely on her words when she has always been so unpredictable."
Iroh's gaze narrowed thoughtfully.
"She admitted her intentions were to not take the Lady's life?"
Zuko nodded.
"Rather than taking the Avatar's support from me, she intended to take me from the Avatar. She meant to kill me, reclaim the throne, and use his wife as leverage until he had no choice but to submit to her rule."
The night had been very unkind to you.
Not long after the physician had administered another dose of injections, the warmth beneath your skin had begun to climb until your body burned with fever.
By dawn, the palace maids had discovered you drenched in perspiration, your breathing uneven and bothered, and soon enough, word had reached Zuko by the time the sun had fully risen.
Since then, your chambers had scarcely known a moment of peace.
Now that the palace physician's had returned due to the attack, their first duty had been to treat you. They entered your room one after another, carrying satchels filled with herbs scrolls, each examining your condition before arriving at the same conclusion.
The fever, they assured him, had been brought on by exhaustion, blood loss, and the tremendous strain your body had endured over the past two days.
You needed rest above all else. Everyone simply had to be patient, for time would prove a far better remedy than anything more they could offer, for the outside physician who had first tended to your wound had already prescribed everything your body required to heal.
Zuko listened to every explanation without interruption, thanked each physician for their efforts, and watched every one of them leave feeling no more reassured than before.
Something refused to settle within him.
He had spent enough years around healers to recognize when they were certain of themselves. He knew for a fact his physicians spoke confidently, yet every answer felt incomplete, every reassurance that they offered him left an uncomfortable sense that something had escaped their notice.
Perhaps it was nothing more than the events of the previous evening refusing to loosen their grip upon his thoughts, or perhaps it was the memory of watching you collapse in his arms that would not stop replaying each time he looked at your sleeping face.
Throughout the day he remained beside your bedside in his chambers, abandoning every matter brought before him unless it demanded his signature alone. Reports accumulated upon the table near the window, while ministers were dismissed with promises that the Fire Lord would attend to them tomorrow.
Every so often he reached forward to brush the back of his fingers lightly across your forehead, only to find the fever still lingering beneath your skin despite every remedy the physicians prescribed.
By the afternoon, despite what had been advice by the palace physicians, his patience had finally worn thin.
"Send for the physician who treated her after the attack, the one from the capital infirmary." he instructed one of the attendants waiting outside the chamber.
The maid bowed hurriedly before disappearing down the corridor.
He trusted the palace physicians. He truly did.
But his heart could not settle seeing you in such a state, knowing very well how Aang will break down at the sight of you.
More over, he blamed himself for entertaining your request the night of the first attack. If only he had denied you and left you to rest, your body would have gotten the rest it deserved in the first place.
When the physician arrived, by some miracle you had regained consciousness. The first sight that greeted you was not Aang's face, as you had hoped it would be before you lost consciousness, but the very same man who had held you close when you could no longer keep your eyes open.
The moment Zuko heard the faintest rustle of the sheets, he cut short whatever conversation he had been having with the familiar physician. His attention snapped toward you immediately, relief washing over his features the instant he found your eyes open, though the confusion lingering within them did little to ease the concern etched across his own.
You heard him speaking to you, his voice distant at first, as though it were reaching you from beneath deep water. Little by little the world began to take shape once more, the blurred figures around your bedside becoming clearer as the ringing in your ears subsided, yet the words themselves continued to slip through your mind without meaning. Your body burned beneath the blankets, every breath leaving your chest feeling heavier than the last.
Only when you felt the warmth of his hand wrapped around yours did you find enough strength to speak.
"Zuko..." The single word scraped painfully against your throat, rough as though you had swallowed sand, yet you forced yourself to continue. "Please... take these sheets off me."
Your voice was scarcely louder than a whisper, but it was enough.
Zuko glanced down at you, immediately noticing the unfocused look in your eyes before turning toward the physician, silently seeking his approval rather than acting on his own.
"It is alright," the physician assured him. "Do as she asks. Help her sit upright as well. It will make examining her considerably easier."
Only then did Zuko move, one arm carefully supporting your back while one of the palace maids hurried to your other side. Together they eased you into a sitting position, taking great care not to disturb the healing wound hidden beneath the bandages, though the moment your weight settled against the headboard, a sharp pain tore across your shoulder with such sudden force that your body folded forward before either of them could stop you.
A strained sound escaped your lips, barely coherent through the haze clouding your thoughts, as you instinctively reached toward the injured shoulder.
"My Lady?" the maid asked at once, her voice thick with worry as she steadied you before Zuko could voice his own concern.
"My shoulder..." you murmured weakly, your brows knitting together as another wave of pain coursed through your body. You instinctively drew your arm closer to yourself, your breathing faltering for a moment before you looked toward the physician. "It hurts... considerably more than it did yesterday."
Zuko's expression changed almost instantly. Whatever relief he had felt upon seeing you awake vanished just as quickly, replaced by a concern so plain that even the physician noticed it before he reached your bedside.
"It is quite alright," the older man assured calmly, gesturing for one of the maids to help you remain upright while he retrieved several instruments from his satchel. "Allow me to examine you first. I shall check your pulse, your blood pressure, and ensure the wound has not been disturbed."
His practiced hands worked methodically as he spoke, never once appearing hurried despite the Fire Lord's watchful presence lingering over his shoulder.
"And you needn't look so alarmed, Fire Lord," the physician added with the faintest smile, glancing up only briefly before returning his attention to you. "Pain is hardly unexpected after everything she has endured."
Zuko blinked almost imperceptibly. Had his worry truly become that obvious?
"I would rather not increase the number of medicines she is already taking," the physician continued as he prepared a fresh syringe upon the bedside table.
"Instead, I shall administer a local anesthetic around the wound itself. It should dull the pain enough to allow her a proper night's rest without burdening her body with yet another remedy."
Far above the Fire Nation capital, Appa cut through the evening sky with great sweeping strokes of his tail, the last light of the setting sun painting the clouds in shades of amber.
Aang remained seated between the air bison's horns, his hands gripping the reins tighter than he usually would, his eyes fixed on the horizon before the palace itself came into his view.
The first thing he noticed was the damage, and even on the nation's darkest day, he could never have imagined the palace in such a state. It was not nearly as catastrophic as he had feared, yet the destruction remained far too prominent for comfort.
Even from this distance, portions of the outer walls remained blackened by fire, scaffolding climbing over fractured towers while workers hurried across rooftops as they rushed to fix whatever they could before sundown.
His stomach tightened.
Appa had completely slowed during his descent, landing heavily within the palace courtyard.
The moment the sky bison's paws touched the ground, Aang was already sliding off his head, barely giving himself time to steady his footing before turning back.
"You got us here so fast, buddy." He rested a hand against Appa's cheek, his voice hurried despite the grateful smile that managed to find its way onto his face.
"Thank you."
Appa answered with a low rumble, nudging him once before lowering himself to the ground, clearly exhausted from the relentless journey.
Momo leapt from the saddle onto Aang's shoulder with an anxious chirp, earning a quick scratch beneath the chin before Aang broke into a run toward the palace entrance.
Servants and guards alike scarcely had time to announce his arrival before he disappeared into the corridors, moving through halls.
His pace never slowed until he reached the familiar corridor leading toward the guest chambers, only for one of the palace guards to step into his path.
"My apologies, Avatar."
Aang stopped so abruptly that he nearly collided with him.
"Where is my wife?!"
The words came out before anything else.
"She was.." The guard caught himself immediately, bowing his head.
"Your wife has been moved, Avatar. The chamber she occupied as rendered uninhabitable during the attack.""
Aang frowned with worry.
"Where is she?"
"In the Fire Lord's chambers. I shall take you there."
The walk felt impossibly long despite lasting barely a minute.
They passed deeper into the residential wing before stopping. The guard stepped aside, pushing open the doors just enough for Aang to enter.
They struck the wall with a heavy thud.
Several palace guards stationed around the room immediately straightened before bowing, while the physician standing beside the bed paused midway through checking your pulse.
Only one man remained exactly where he was.
Zuko stood beside your bedside, one hand still resting against the edge of the mattress, turning only when he heard the doors burst open.
Aang's eyes swept frantically across the room before settling upon the bed.
You were propped weakly against the headboard with pillows supporting your back, a fresh bandage had been wrapped around the side of your forehead, hiding the wound beneath layers of clean linen.
Your eyelids were heavy with exhaustion, and yet the moment your eyes met his, something within them softened in quiet relief.
His heart lurched and the panic that had carried him across an entire nation finally caught up to him.
"...Love."
Your name escaped him in a breathless whisper before he crossed the room in hurried strides.
The physician and the palace maids immediately stepped aside, bowing respectfully as he passed, while Zuko rose from the chair beside your bed without a word, instinctively giving your husband the space that belonged to him.
You had promised yourself you would not cry again, your eyes red and burning due to the fever coursing under your skin.
Yet the moment Aang reached you, every ounce of strength you had spent forcing yourself to remain composed dissolved completely.
"...Aang."
It was barely more than a whisper.
He was beside you before the final syllable had even left your lips, gathering you into his arms with a care that bordered on desperation, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other settled around your shoulders.
And although you easily melted against him immediately, you hissed in pain due to his hand pressing into your wound.
Even so, you made no effort to tell him of it as before you could feel it, with your forehead resting against the crook of his neck as a quiet sob escaped despite your best efforts to suppress it.
"I'm here," he murmured, his own voice unsteady. "I'm here now."
His trembling hands held you close, while tears and perspiration dampened your face together until he could scarcely tell where one ended and the other began.
His thumb brushed gently beneath your eye, wiping away the moisture before it slipped further down your cheek, and for one brief moment he simply held you tighter.
His heart could not accept your condition now, when you had been so healthy and bright only two days ago before he was forced to leave you.
It felt cruel that in so short a time, life had managed to strip so much of your warmth away, leaving behind only a frail reflection of the woman he had kissed goodbye.
Across the room, Zuko quietly resumed his seat.
His attention lingered upon the two of you only briefly before he lowered his eyes, allowing them the privacy they deserved despite sharing the same room.
It felt wrong to witness such an intimate reunion, particularly after everything that had transpired over the past two days, and he was prepared to excuse himself altogether when Aang finally spoke again.
"...What happened?"
The question had been asked so quietly that, Zuko almost didn't hear him.
He slowly lifted his eyes, only to find Aang still kneeling beside the bed with his back turned toward him, his arms wrapped securely around you while his thumb continued absentmindedly brushing the strands of hair away from your damp forehead.
To anyone else, the Avatar might have appeared remarkably composed, his voice calm and measured despite everything that had happened, yet Zuko knew him well enough to hear what lingered beneath it.
He could see the restraint anger within him, just waiting to explode, compressed beneath quiet words, waiting patiently until there was no one left in the room but the two of them.
Aang finally look over his shoulder and when their eyes met, and Zuko could understand every racing thought of his.
Aang was feeling too many things all at once.
Relief, because you were alive.
Terror, because your skin burned beneath his hands with a fever he had never seen you carry before.
Guilt, because he had left you here believing you would be safe.
And anger, for Zuko.
"The physician must examine her again," he said calmly, his voice measured despite the exhaustion weighing upon it.
"Once he has finished, I shall tell you everything."
Aang looked up and Zuko saw the demand already forming behind his eyes.
He wanted answers now. He wanted to know who had done this, how it had happened, why his wife lay burning with fever beneath layers of bandages when her safety should have been guaranteed in Zuko's hands.
But Aang never said any of it. His jaw tightened before he slowly exhaled through his nose, forcing himself to swallow every question threatening to escape.
He could not forget where he was.
Before everyone gathered within these walls, Zuko was not merely his friend.
He was the Fire Lord.
And Aang was not simply a worried husband.
He was the Avatar.
Whatever conversation followed belonged behind closed doors.
"...Alright," he answered quietly.
Reluctantly, he loosened his hold around you, helping you settle carefully back against the pillows before moving around the bed to the chair Zuko had only just vacated.
He took the seat without another word, remaining close enough that your fingers instinctively found the sleeve of his robe, refusing to let go even after you had closed your eyes again.
The physician approached your bedside once more, his expression gentle as he prepared another syringe.
"Miss, I shall need to examine your wound before administering the anesthetic," he said softly.
You managed the smallest nod, lacking the strength to offer anything more.
At his instruction, the palace maids quietly set about their work, drawing the privacy screens around the bed before carefully loosening the upper layers of your robe. Aang instinctively lowered his gaze to afford you the modesty you deserved, though the physician was quick to stop him.
"Avatar Aang, I would ask that you remain close. She may require your support while I examine the wound." he said gently
It was only then, when the fabric slipped carefully from your shoulder, that Aang truly saw the extent of your injuries.
Beneath the clean white dressing wrapped securely across your upper back and shoulder, fresh stains of crimson had already begun to bloom through the linen, spreading in uneven patches that no amount of careful bandaging could completely conceal.
His breath caught in his throat because nothing could have prepared him for this.
The physician offered you a reassuring smile before instructing the palace maids to help you turn onto your stomach, every movement slow and deliberate so as not to disturb the healing wound.
Even through the haze of fever, the slightest shift drew a quiet whimper from your lips, your brows pulling together as your fingers instinctively searched for the only familiar comfort within reach.
Aang was already there.
Before you could grasp at empty air, his hand had found yours once again, carefully weaving his fingers between your own as though afraid you might slip away if he held on any less tightly.
His other hand rose almost without thought, brushing the damp strands of hair away from your face before resting lightly against your temple, his thumb absentmindedly tracing slow circles over your warm skin in the same gentle rhythm he had often used whenever sleep refused to find you.
"I'm right here," he whispered, his voice barely louder than a breath.
Your grip tightened around his hand with surprising strength the moment the maids eased you onto your front, another pained sound escaping before you could stop it.
Aang immediately shifted closer, allowing you to lean whatever little weight you needed against him, his free hand rubbing slow, reassuring strokes between your shoulder blades wherever the physician's examination would not disturb the injury.
"I'm sorry," he murmured again, lowering his forehead until it rested lightly against your knuckles, his eyes squeezing shut for the briefest moment.
"Just a little longer... I promise."
Though your eyes remained half-lidded with exhaustion, your breathing gradually began to steady beneath his touch, and Aang stayed exactly where he was, unwilling to loosen his hold even for a moment while the physician carefully began removing the dressing from your shoulder.
The physician waited until you had settled before carefully unwinding the linen wrapped around your shoulder.
Layer by layer, the fresh bandages were carefully peeled away until the injury beneath was finally revealed, and the room seemed to fall into a silence.
Aang stopped breathing.
The wound was worse than he had imagined, carving an angry path across your shoulder. Though it seemed to be in the early stages of healing, the skin surrounding it remained swollen and bruised, painted in deep shades of violet and crimson that spread far beyond the injury itself.
Along its edges, however, the flesh bore something he had not expected to ever see. It had been burned.
Thin blackened marks traced either side of the wound in uneven lines, as though someone had deliberately pressed searing hot metal against your skin.
Aang could not understand what he was looking at.
It no longer resembled an injury that would simply fade with time. It looked brutal and he found himself unable to imagine what you must have endured while remaining conscious through it all.
His vision blurred before he even realized why and tears spilled freely down his face, slipping silently from his jaw onto the bedsheets below, and Aang made no effort whatsoever to hide them.
The physician first cleaned the skin surrounding the wound, ensuring the injury itself remained undisturbed before reaching for the prepared syringe.
After quietly warning you of a slight sting, he administered the anesthetic at several points around the edges of the wound, each injection delivered with steadiness so it could gradually numb the injured flesh.
Though it would offer only temporary relief, it would be enough, he hoped, to spare you the worst of the pain and allow your exhausted body the peaceful sleep it had been denied for far too long.
New bandages were wrapped securely around your shoulder and across your chest, while the maids quietly helped you ease back onto your side once everything had been secured.
Only after your robes had been fastened once more did the room begin to empty.
The guards bowed before returning to their posts beyond the chamber doors, their armor disappearing into the corridor one after another.
The maids followed with silent curtsies, carrying away cloths and the physician's discarded dressings, while the physician himself offered one final bow toward both the Fire Lord and the Avatar before excusing himself to wait outside for the two.
Zuko remained standing near the window before turning back toward the bed, watching Aang remain fixed exactly where he was, now kneeling on the floor, one hand wrapped carefully around yours while the other rested lightly against the mattress beside you.
You lay curled onto your left side, your breathing uneven beneath the fever, entirely unaware of the tears that continued falling onto the blankets between your joined hands.
Slowly, Aang lifted your fingers toward his face.
His lips brushed tenderly across your knuckles once.
He closed his eyes, pressing your hand against his forehead as another quiet sob escaped him, his shoulders trembling beneath the weight of everything he had arrived too late to prevent.
Zuko looked away, knowing some grief was too private to witness.
Aang remained beside the bed for another long moment before finally forcing himself to stand. His fingers lingered around yours until the very last second, reluctant to let go, and when he did, he found Zuko already watching him from across the room.
Their eyes met only briefly before Aang looked away, hastily brushing the tears from his face with the heel of his palm. He drew a slow breath, trying to gather what little composure he had left, then slipped the red outer robe from his shoulders, folding it over one arm until only the familiar orange and yellow robes of the Air Nomads remained.
"I'll speak with you outside," Zuko said quietly, careful not to disturb your sleep. "My study."
Aang answered with a silent nod.
Before following him, he turned toward the two guards stationed beside the chamber doors.
"Please..." His voice caught before he steadied it again. "Don't leave her alone."
The older guard bowed deeply, his fist pressed against his chest. "You have my word, Avatar. No one shall enter these chambers without the your or the Fire Lord's direct permission."
Only then did Aang allow himself to leave.
The walk through the palace passed in complete silence. The physician accompanied them a respectful distance behind, clutching his satchel while servants stepped hurriedly aside at the sight of both the Fire Lord and the Avatar moving through the corridors together.
Upon reaching the study, Zuko held the door open, waiting for the physician to enter before quietly closing it behind them.
Aang remained standing opposite the physician, his closed so tightly at his sides that his knuckles had begun to pale.
"...Tell me honestly," he said, dispensing with every courtesy. "How is she?"
The physician inclined his head before answering.
"Her wound is healing, Avatar. There are no signs of infection." He spoke calmly, though his expression remained measured.
"It has only been two days since the injury was sustained. I understand the sight of it is alarming, but the healing itself is progressing exactly as I had hoped."
Aang lowered his eyes for a moment, absorbing every word.
"So she'll recover?"
"Provided nothing further complicates the wound...yes." The physician offered him a reassuring smile.
Only then did Zuko speak.
"And the fever?"
The physician turned toward him.
"I believe it is precisely what the palace physicians concluded earlier today. Her body has endured significant trauma over a very short period." He rested his satchel upon the edge of the desk before continuing.
"Exhaustion, blood loss, the shock of the attack, followed by last night's incident...it would not be unusual for the mind to surrender only after the immediate danger has passed."
"So it is not the wound?" Zuko pressed.
"Not directly, my lord."
The physician hesitated briefly before adding, "I will admit, I disagreed with General Iroh's decision to cauterize the injury that first night. It is an aggressive measure, and one I would not ordinarily recommend."
Aang's head lifted immediately.
The physician noticed.
"However," he continued carefully, "given the amount of blood she had already lost...I believe it ultimately spared her from something far worse. Had the bleeding continued much longer, I am not certain she would have possessed the strength to recover as she has."
Aang could only furrow his eyebrows, worry etched on his face as he stood confused and in disbelief.
"The fever appears to be the body's response to everything that followed. Physical injuries heal more predictably than fear does. The events of last evening alone would have been enough to overwhelm someone already weakened." The physician resumed after a moment,
Aang closed his eyes as the physician's words only confirmed what he had already feared.
"Will it pass?" he asked quietly.
"I believe so." The physician nodded with confidence this time.
"Another day, perhaps two at most. Keep her room cool, ensure she continues taking the medicine, and above all..." He glanced between the two men before finishing.
"...allow her peace. She requires rest far more than she requires additional treatment."
Zuko inclined his head.
"You have my thanks."
The physician took out the report from his satchel before extending it toward Aang.
"I have detailed everything regarding her treatment and the medicines she has been given," he explained.
"The palace physicians should have little difficulty continuing her care with this. Should her fever worsen during the night, I am confident they will know how to proceed."
His expression softened ever so slightly before he continued.
"However, if they should require my guidance for any reason, do not hesitate to send for me at once. I shall come immediately."
With one final bow to both the Fire Lord and the Avatar, he quietly excused himself.
The study door clicked shut behind him.
Finally, with the physician gone, only the two of them remained.
The silence that settled over the study no longer belonged to servants hurrying about the palace or physicians discussing medicines.
It belonged only to two friends who had known one another for years, each carrying the weight of the same woman for entirely different reasons.
Aang remained standing beside the desk, both hands resting against its edge while his gaze stayed fixed somewhere upon the polished wood beneath him.
His breathing had steadied since leaving your bedside, but only just. Zuko had known him long enough to recognize restraint when he saw it, and the silence lingering between them felt less like composure than a dam threatening to give way.
The question came at last.
"...What happened?" Aang finally lifted his eyes, and there was nothing accusatory within them, only confusion wrapped so tightly around grief that the two had become impossible to separate.
"How did my wife end up like that?"
Zuko drew a slow breath before answering. "It was a coordinated attack upon the palace."
Aang said nothing, allowing him to continue.
"There was no warning. Members of my own Royal Guard had been working alongside the Shinu and opened the palace from within. Before anyone understood what was happening, the eastern wing had already come under bombardment."
He paused briefly, his eyes lowering toward the floor.
"The explosion had struck her chambers." Zuko's voice remained even, though each word seemed to cost him more than the last.
"By the time I reached her...she had already pulled herself into the corridor."
He swallowed.
"There was a wound from a shard of glass lodged through her shoulder."
Aang's breathing caught. He looked as though he wished to ask another question, yet no words came.
His lips parted before pressing together once more, his gaze falling toward the floor as his mind struggled to reconcile the woman he had left smiling scarcely two days earlier with the one lying feverish in the next room.
"The palace physicians were absent, the western infirmary had collapsed during the fighting, and we could not stop the bleeding." Zuko continued quietly.
Aang slowly looked back up.
"...The burns."
It wasn't truly a question.
Zuko nodded once. "My uncle cauterized the wound."
Whatever colour remained in Aang's face drained away.
His eyes closed for the briefest moment as though the image had formed before he wished it to, his throat working soundlessly before he finally managed another breath.
His fingers loosened from the edge of the desk only to curl again immediately afterward, his nails pressing hard enough into the wood to chip at the polish.
"...She was awake?"
Zuko hesitated.
"Yes."
The answer landed with frightening weight making Aang feel faint.
One hand rose instinctively to cover his mouth as he drew a slow, uneven breath through his nose, fighting the ache tightening painfully beneath his ribs.
"...Spirits."
He remained standing with his back turned to Zuko, one trembling hand covering his eyes as tears continued to slip silently between his fingers.
The room around him seemed to fade into something distant and indistinct, his mind refusing to remain within the Fire Lord's study as another memory, one he had tried to bury beneath happier ones, quietly found its way back to him.
It had been scarcely two weeks since the two of you had first met when he had lost you once before.
He remembered searching every street of the marketplace in panic, calling your name through crowds that had never once answered him.
He remembered finding the abandoned house, the splintered floorboards beneath his feet, and then you.
Even now, he could still picture the terror in your eyes before you had realized it was him standing in the doorway, the bruises around your wrists where cold iron had dug into your skin, and the desperate way you had tried to gather what remained of yourself despite having already endured far more than anyone ever should.
On the day he proposed to you, he had promised himself that he would never allow anything like that to happen again.
Not while he still drew breath or even after.
Yet here he was, standing in another room, listening to another person recount the ways in which you had suffered while he had been somewhere else entirely.
The details differed, yet the guilt settled upon his shoulders with the same unbearable weight, pressing against his chest until it became difficult to distinguish whether the ache belonged to his heart or simply to the air refusing to fill his lungs.
He had left you believing you would be safe.
He had kissed you goodbye only two mornings earlier, never imagining that those same two days would leave you scarred so deeply that someone had been forced to burn your flesh simply to keep you alive.
Every image Zuko painted seemed only to give shape to horrors Aang wished had remained unknown, and his mind, cruel as it often was, insisted upon completing every picture until he could almost see you crawling across the floor, frightened and alone, calling for help that had arrived only moments before it had become too late.
The realization settled over him with quiet cruelty.
He had failed you once when the two of you had scarcely known one another, and though you never blamed him for any of it, he found himself wondering if his promise had ever truly meant anything at all.
No matter how fiercely he wished to protect you, no matter how desperately he tried to keep you beyond the reach of harm, the world seemed determined to place pain in your path whenever he was forced to leave your side, and there was nothing that frightened him more than the thought that one day he might return only to discover he had arrived a single moment too late.
His breathing became shallow without him realizing it, each attempt at drawing another breath falling short of what his body demanded, until a tightness spread painfully through his chest and his vision began to blur around the edges.
"...Aang."
By the time Zuko reached him, he no longer seemed aware of where he was standing.
His breathing had become painfully uneven, each shallow breath catching somewhere deep within his chest before another hurried inhale followed after it.
The hand still resting against the table trembled beneath the strain of supporting his weight, while his unfocused gaze remained fixed on the flood.
Zuko recognized the signs immediately.
Without another word, he closed the remaining distance between them, resting a steady hand against Aang's shoulder in the hope of grounding him before the panic swallowed him entirely.
"...Aang." His voice softened. "You need to breathe."
Aang remained frozen where he stood, his shoulders rising and falling in short, fractured breaths that refused to steady no matter how desperately he tried.
His entire body had begun to shake beneath Zuko's hand, and for one unsettling moment, it seemed as though his legs might simply give way beneath him.
Then Aang turned, and the movement came so suddenly that Zuko had barely enough time to react before Aang closed the distance between them, his arms wrapping tightly around him with a desperation that caught him completely off guard.
The force of it drove him back a single step, surprise flashing briefly across his features before instinct overcame it, his own arms lifting almost immediately to steady the man shaking against him.
Aang said nothing at all as he simply held on.
It was the opposite of the restrained composure of the Avatar he had learned to keep, nor with the confidence Zuko had come to know over the years, but it was the desperation of a husband who believed he might return home only to find the woman he loved already gone.
Aang buried his face against Zuko's shoulder, his fingers clutching desperately at the back of his robes as though the simple act of holding on were the only thing keeping him upright.
His body shook with every uneven breath he managed to draw, each one catching painfully in his chest before another followed just as fractured as the last.
"I..." The word dissolved almost as soon as it left him, his voice breaking beneath another sob. "I thought...I was going to lose her."
Zuko closed his eyes.
"I know."
Aang's grip tightened.
"I don't know what I would've done."
The confession escaped him quietly. It was simply the truth finding its way past the grief, stripped of every attempt at composure until nothing remained but the terrified husband standing beneath the weight of it.
The study remained perfectly still around them, the silence broken only by Aang's quiet attempts to steady his breathing, each inhale gradually becoming less frantic than the one before it.
Zuko said nothing, allowing him the time to gather himself, one hand resting firmly between his shoulders in silent reassurance.
Then Aang spoke again.
"...Thank you."
The words were almost lost beneath another unsteady breath.
"Thank you...for staying with her."
Everything inside Zuko seemed to still.
His hand remained where it rested against Aang's back, yet the gratitude settling between them felt almost unbearable to receive.
Against his will, his thoughts drifted back to what had transpired between him and you.
He remembered the quiet that had settled after the physician had left, the conversation that had stretched far longer than he should have allowed, and the way exhaustion had slowly weakened your minds until neither of you had seemed quite like yourselves anymore.
Then came the memory he wished had remained buried.
Your face, impossibly close to his own. A single moment that had lasted no longer than a heartbeat.
No amount of distance placed between that night and this one seemed capable of changing it.
Aang remained standing before him exactly as he always had, placing his faith in the friend he had trusted for years, thanking him with a sincerity that settled painfully against every thought Zuko had spent the last day trying not to revisit.
There was not the slightest hint of doubt in his voice, not the smallest suspicion clouding his gratitude, and somehow that unwavering trust wounded far more deeply.
A heaviness settled within Zuko's chest. He had done everything in his power to keep you alive.
Yet somewhere amidst fear, relief, and a night neither of you would ever be able to forget, he had crossed a line he could never allow himself to approach again.
His hand remained steady against Aang's back.
His heart did not.
"I'm sorry, Aang."
chapter eighteen coming soon...
a/n: guys, i am so frustrated rn. why is this fic so long?!
don't get me wrong, i'm honestly so surprised yet so proud of myself for actually having this much to say for a story for once in my life.
but DAMN. i really want to get to writing some future scenes already, but because i have so much i want to say and show first, i just keep prolonging it.
at this point, i genuinely cannot predict the length of this story anymore.
p.s. now that the movie is out, should i switch back to the original visuals I had for this fic, or should i stick to the current fanart version?
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