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“i almost just died and the whole time, all i could think about while i was hanging from the ledge of a war ship was how i didn’t say goodbye to you, y/n,” sokka said breathlessly. “i don’t know how many syllables that was, but i really hope you’ll let me start over because i missed you so much.”

wiping a tear from your eye, you threw yourself at sokka. “i never cared about the syllables, all i cared about was you.”

now, eleven years after the end of the war you found yourself married to sokka, living with him in the southern water tribe. you never envisioned yourself as the wife of a chief or nobleman, especially not one from a nation that only experienced one season: frigid, barren winters. but katara and aang came to visit often, and you had made friends with girls in the village, so the fact of your relocation to the southern water tribe wasn’t as horrible as you once thought it might turn out to be.

besides, now you were starting a family. katara, aang, and a toddling bumi temporarily relocated to the southern water tribe for the duration of your pregnancy. katara helped you alter your traditionally earth kingdom green, fur lined tunics to fit the swell your pregnant belly. she shared with you all the little tips and tricks for managing pregnancy that she learned while pregnant with bumi; which herbal teas helped ebb the constant morning sickness, how to sleep comfortably with the added circumference, and where to find the best ointments to apply to your belly so the skin didn’t stretch so badly.

at night, sokka laid his head on your lap and caressed your belly, whispering to the baby like they had private jokes already.

“what do you want for dinner?” sokka asked, standing in the kitchen like a man on a mission.

you looked at him, your face flat. “sokka you can’t cook.”

he shrugged. “i really don’t mind it,” he said. “can’t have my girl and the mom to my offspring slaving away in the kitchen.”

“no, i mean like you physically can not cook,” you said, annoyance slick in your voice. “the last time you insisted on cooking for me, the waterbenders had to drench the rafters.”

you threw your hand in the direction of the charred rafters exasperatedly. “why don’t you just let me cook?”

“because you shouldn’t be exerting yourself,” sokka stated like it was obvious. “you’re growing a child, you shouldn’t have to worry about having to feed me too!”

you stood up from the table and went into the kitchen. “sokka, you can’t cook!” you shouted. “spirits, help me. i am pregnant, sokka, not an invalid.”

suddenly, as if the rest of the village heard your tiff, there was a knock on the door. katara invited herself in. “bumi is going through a stubborn eating phase,” she ventured gently. “i made steamed sea prunes and aang smoked some fish. we would love to have you guys over so we don’t have to keep all this food our son won’t eat.”

you nodded grudgingly. “that sounds nice,” you said, forcing yourself to smile at katara. “i have a meeting with the earth kingdom council tomorrow, so there’s really not time to deal with a fire tonight. are you sure aang doesn’t mind me bringing appa to gaoling?”

“not at all!” she said cheerily. “appa will be happy to get out of the cold for a while.”

sokka pulled you back gently by your hand. he was rubbing his hand on the back of his head and smiling the way he did when he knew he screwed up. “what on earth did you do, sokka?” you groaned.

“i canceled your meeting with the earth kingdom council,” he said sheepishly.

he braced himself to be yelled at but instead, you buried your head in your hands and started sobbing. pregnancy hormones were most certainly not being kind to you.

sokka reached to hug you, but you swatted his hands away, sobbing so hard that you were certain your tears would freeze to your face. “why would you do that?”

“well, i heard that it’s not good for ladies to travel by air when they’re, you know, with child,” sokka explained. “and to get to gaoling any other way wasn’t suitable to your condition either, so i canceled your meeting until the earth council could come here to meet with you.”

you rubbed your face on the sleeve of your warm tunic, streaking it with snot and tears. “the earth council doesn’t travel, sokka! i was supposed to meet with them to improve our trade relationship!” you cried in his direction. “now they’re not going to think a new trade agreement is worth it!”

sokka looked past you to katara who was watching your interaction with your husband with bated breath. “i don’t get what the big deal is,” he said to his sister, who rolled her eyes in response.

“the big deal is that i’m a dignitary now since you had to go take over as chief!” you shouted. “that was an important meeting!”

katara came forward and wrapped her arm around you. “sokka, why don’t you go have dinner with dad and bato tonight?” she suggested. “there’s supposed to be a storm blowing in, so y/n will stay with us.”

“you really just expect me to—”

katara glared at him as you cried. “just go!”

she led you back to her home with aang, and you barely managed to compose yourself before entering. as soon as he saw you, bumi crawled furiously to you and pulled himself up with the ends of your warm robes.

"ga ga ga," he babbled, stuffing the fur lined corner into his toothless, gummy mouth.

you reach down to scoop him up and press a big kiss on the top of his head, your nose lingering for a second to take in his sweet, sweaty baby scent. holding the little boy made you all the more ready to welcome your own child, who was a short month and a half away from making its entrance into the world.

finally, addressing the elephant in the room, you turn to katara. "you've known him longer than me," you start. "what is his problem?"

"he's just worried about you, that's all," katara said. "granted, it's a little misguided, but he really does care for you."

"but i'm not dying, i'm not sick," you return. "i'm just pregnant."

katara shrugged and started dishing out dinner for the four of them, ladeling out a bowl of only broth for bumi. "i went into labor on the back of appa and aang went ballistic," she said with a ghost of a smile.

he came into the room and smiled. "well, when your wife starts screaming in pain and breathing like there's an unextinguishable flame, it's a little hard to remain levelheaded."

you all sat down to dinner and bumi dumped his bowl of broth on you and tried to stick his grubby little fingers into your bowl. he pulled out a sea prune and gummed on it happily.

across the village, sokka ate stew with hakoda and bato. "she just doesn't let me help her or do anything," he complained between hearty slurps of his meal. "she is just so.... so.... stubborn!"

"well, she is pregnant," bato said obviously. "if i had to gain twenty pounds and go through labor, i probably wouldn't be receptive to much of anything, let alone being the wife of the chief."

"but i'm just trying to help!" sokka continued to complain. "like, i went out of my way to correspond with the earth council to rearrange her meeting for her, and then she cries and yells at me for it. i did it for her, not to trap her here or something."

hakoda's even voice cut through his thoughts. "when your mother was pregnant with you, sokka, i tried to make her life as easy as possible. i did the laundry, i built onto the side of our home, i cooked dinner."

"and i'm sure mom was super appreciative."

hakoda shook his head. "if she could waterbend, she would have frozen me solid she was so sick of me," he said with a laugh. "because all that help i tried to give her just made more work for her. i stripped the clothes of their color, i ripped just about all of my pants while building the extension on the house, and i gave her food poisoning at least twice."

"and you also have to think about y/n being here," bato pointed out. "she's not from our tribe, she's from the earth kingdom. there's more to do there, her family is there, and all of her friends from during the war all live there. she's sacrificed a lot to be here with you, the least you could do is let her cook dinner for herself."

sokka sat quietly. "so you're saying that i need to ease up because it's all just gonna be more work for her anyway?"

both of the older men nodded, and sokka finished his bowl before setting off to find you at katara and aang's. the wind whipped around him and snow was beginning to flurry down from the sky as he ran through the snowbanks.

he burst through the door, expecting to find you still upset and talking to katara about him, but instead the sight he found warmed him up from his chilly trip to katara's house. on a sofa in the main room of the house, you were curled up with a hand-stitched blanket thrown over your legs. baby bumi was cuddled into your chest, refusing to go to sleep with his own parents, instead settling into the crook of your neck.

he walks through the house and knocks gently on katara and aang’s door, frightened of waking you. “how is she?”

“still pissed, but you better thank the spirits i have a cute and needy baby,” katara said with a laugh. “seriously, sokka. you need to lighten up about her pregnancy. and for the love of the spirits, please fix what you did with the earth council meeting.” 

sokka nodded. “i know, i messed up.”

aang propped himself up on his shoulders, nudging katara with his leg. “she really loves you man,” he said. “and she loves doing things that will help your tribe become closer with her people. let her help.” 

“thanks aang,” he nodded. 

“now let me spend some quality time with my wife while someone else has our baby,” he said. 

sokka shuddered and closed the door. “i’m spending the night here with y/n, so keep your noises to a minimum.” 

he came back out to the main room and sat in the empty space beside your head. you shifted as his weight settled into the sofa and your body readjusted unconsciously, your head fitting perfectly in the space between his hip and his leg. bumi cooed and he placed a hand on your belly. 

“You know,” you said casually one afternoon while leaning over his shoulder in the workshop, “you look really attractive when you’re focused.”

Sokka immediately hit his head on the shelf above him. “OW- ”

You burst out laughing. He turned toward you with betrayal written all over his face while rubbing the top of his head dramatically. “You can’t just say things like that!”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m working!”

“You were tightening a screw.”

“I was engineering.”

You grinned shamelessly. “And looking good doing it.”

Sokka stared at you for a second. Then pointed accusingly. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Maybe.”

At first, he genuinely didn’t know how to handle you. You complimented him constantly. Touched him first without hesitation. Dragged him into kisses whenever you wanted. And worst of all-

You acted completely confident about it too. Meanwhile Sokka would short-circuit every single time. “You’re cute when you’re flustered,” you informed him one evening. “I’m not flustered.”

“You walked into a chair.”

But over time?

Something shifted. Because eventually Sokka stopped being embarrassed about how obsessed he was with you.

And started leaning into it completely.

---

“Yeah,” Sokka said proudly one day while watching you earthbend a massive boulder out of the road during a mission, “that’s my girl.”

You looked over immediately, laughing softly at the ridiculous amount of pride in his voice. Toph groaned nearby. “Oh spirits, he’s doing it again.”

Katara smiled knowingly. “He literally can’t help himself.”

Sokka ignored them completely, to busy staring at you with heart eyes. Honestly?

It got worse after you started helping in his workshop regularly. Because suddenly not only were you pretty and confident and affectionate You also willingly listened to him ramble about inventions for hours.

Which, according to Sokka, basically made you perfect.

“You handed me the wrong wrench.”

You looked up from where you sat cross-legged on the floor sorting metal pieces. “No I didn’t.”

Sokka stared at the tool in his hand.

Then blinked.

“…Okay no, this is right.”

You smirked immediately. “Thought so.”

“You’re smug today.”

“You love it.”

You were right. Sokka shook his head while trying to hide a smile before going back to work. The workshop was warm and cluttered like always, sunlight spilling through the windows while half-finished inventions covered nearly every available surface.

You’d started spending most afternoons here with him.

Sometimes helping.

Sometimes just keeping him company.

Sokka loved all of it. Loved the sound of your voice filling the room, the way you’d casually wander over and fix his posture when he hunched too long over blueprints.

Loved how naturally you fit into his space.

Even if...

“You should not be standing that close to that.”

You looked up slowly. “Sokka.”

“That metal is sharp.”

“I’m an earthbender, not a helpless woodland creature.”

“I know that.”

“Then relax.”

He absolutely did not relax. Because no matter how confident or capable you were, Sokka was still Sokka. Meaning overprotective instincts kicked in constantly, especially around his inventions.

“Careful.”

“Sokka.”

“That thing’s unstable.”

“You say that about everything in here.”

“Because everything in here is unstable.”

Fair point. You laughed quietly as he immediately walked over anyway, hands settling automatically on your waist before moving you slightly away from the workbench. “There,” he said proudly.

You blinked. “You moved me like two inches.”

“Safer already.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re precious to me.”

The words came out so casually that your chest tightened before you could stop it. Sokka noticed immediately. His grin softened into something warmer. “There it is,” he murmured.

“What?”

“That look.”

You crossed your arms suspiciously. “What look?”

“The one where you remember I’m charming.”

You snorted softly. “Debatable.”

But you stepped closer anyway. Sokka’s hands immediately returned to your waist like they belonged there. “You know,” you said softly, “I think you secretly like that I’m confident.”

“Secretly?” he repeated dramatically. “I openly like it.”

You laughed.

“No seriously,” he continued, tugging you gently closer between his arms. “At first it scared me a little.”

“Scared you?”

“You came into my life acting like you owned the place.”

“I do own the place.”

“My workshop?”

“Your heart.”

Sokka froze completely. You burst out laughing immediately while his face turned red. “You did that on purpose!”

“Oh absolutely.”

“You’re evil.”

“You love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

Still blushing, Sokka groaned dramatically before burying his face briefly against your shoulder. And despite his complaining-

You felt him smiling. “You’re impossible,” he muttered.

“Mhm.”

“But also…” he lifted his head again, expression softer now, “kinda amazing.”

Your teasing expression melted instantly. Sokka looked at you for another second before kissing you gently. Warm hands still firm at your waist. Slow enough that you smiled against his mouth halfway through. “You know what I like best though?” he murmured softly after pulling back slightly.

“What?”

“That you help me with this stuff.”

You glanced around the workshop. “Your dangerous scrap pile?”

“My genius inventions.”

“Right. Sorry.”

Sokka grinned. “Most people get bored when I talk about engineering.”

“I like listening to you.”

His entire expression softened at that. Like those four words genuinely mattered to him.

They did. Because Sokka always worried deep down that people didn’t take him seriously enough. But with you, he never felt small.

You made him feel brilliant.

“You’re staring again,” you teased quietly. “You’re pretty,” he replied instantly.

“You say that every day.”

“I think it every second.”

Your face warmed immediately. Sokka grinned triumphantly again before suddenly pulling you tighter against him. “What now?” you laughed.

“You’re standing too close to the tools again.”

“Oh my gosh.”

“I’m serious.”

“Sokka, I can literally throw rocks with my mind.”

“And I can still worry about you.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Protective.”

“Very.”

“Clingy.”

“Also true.”

You smiled softly.

And Sokka kissed you again like he couldn’t help himself.

Because truley?

He probably couldn’t.

♡♡♡

The problem started with Kiyi. Or more specifically, the fact that Kiyi was seven years old, endlessly energetic, and absolutely adored you.

"Again!"

"Kiyi, that's the fifth time."

"Again!"

You laughed as the little girl launched herself at you from the palace steps.

Somehow you caught her. "You're getting heavier."

Kiyi gasped dramatically. "I'm telling Zuzu."

"Please don't."

Across the courtyard, Zuko watched the entire exchange and felt something strange happen in his chest. You spun Kiyi around, and you both laugh. And suddenly Zuko couldn't stop thinking about what you'd look like holding a child that was actually yours.

His or Sokkas child.

The thought hit him so hard he nearly walked directly into a pillar.

"Fire Lord?"

Zuko blinked. "What?"

The servant looked concerned. "You just walked into a wall."

Later that night, Zuko found himself sitting beside Sokka on the palace balcony. You were already fast asleep.

Neither of them spoke for several minutes enjoying the silence.

"I think I want kids." The words escaped before Zuko could stop them.

Sokka froze. "...Oh."

"Yeah." Zuko looked over. 

Sokka was staring at the stars. "I think about it too."

The confession surprised both of them. Mostly because neither expected the other to admit it.  Sokka rubbed the back of his neck. "It's weird."

"What is?"

He smiled slightly. "I'll see her doing something."

"Like what?"

"Anything." He laughed. "Playing with kids, making someone smile, taking care of people,” his expression softened, "and suddenly I start imagining stuff."

Zuko understood immediately because he'd been doing exactly the same thing.

"...We're both idiots."

"Definitely."

The hints started shortly after their conversation. Neither intended for it to happen.

"Oh look."

Sokka pointed dramatically, you looked in the direction.

"A baby."

You blinked. "Congratulations on having eyes?"

The young couple walking through the market looked confused at Sokkas pointing.

Sokka looked disappointed. "That's all you have to say?"

"What else am I supposed to say?"

"I don't know."

You squinted suspiciously at him "Are you okay?"

"...Maybe."

Zuko was somehow worse. You discovered this when Kiyi dragged you both into the palace gardens one afternoon.

"Look!"

You looked down. A tiny turtleduck waddled through the grass. "Oh."

Your face immediately softened "Oh, you're adorable."

You crouched down to the small turtleduck, and pick it up carefully carrying it to the pond.

From where he stood with his youngest sister, Zuko stared. Kiyi followed his gaze, then looked back at Zuko. "Oh."

Zuko immediately knew he was in danger. "Kiyi."

"Ohhhhh."

"Kiyi."

"You like seeing her with babies."

"I do not."

"You totally do."

"I absolutely do not."

The little girl gasped.

"You want babies."

"Kiyi."

"You want her to have babies."

"Kiyi..."

She started cackling.

The worst part was that eventually Sokka and Zuko started enabling each other. "I think she'd be a good mom."

The words slipped out during another late-night conversation. Sokka immediately nodded.

"Obviously."

Zuko frowned. "Obviously?"

"Have you met her?"

"Yes."

"Exactly."

That wasn't helpful. At all.

Sokka leaned back, "She already takes care of everyone."

"That's different."

"Not really."

"It is."

"Nope."

Zuko hated that he had a point.

A month later, you finally noticed something was wrong. It happened during dinner. Toph, Kataraand Aang were visiting from Republic City. The entire table was crowded and somehow the conversation turned toward families.

"I want six kids." Everyone turned toward Sokka.

"What?" he asked.

Katara looked horrified at her brother's words, one Sokka was more than enough for her, she didn't need 6 mini hims running aorund. "Six?"

"Maybe eight." He announced, clearly joking.

"SOKKA."

"What?"

Then Kiyi pointed at you. "What about you?"

You nearly choked on your tea. "What about me?"

Kiyi looked delighted. "How many babies do you want?"

The entire table suddenly became very interested in their food.

Neither of your partners would look at you, which was suspicious.

You narrowed your eyes. "...Why are they acting weird?"

Toph immediately snorted. "Because they are weird."

The truth came out three weeks later. Mostly because Kiyi was seven and had no filter. You found her sitting in her room at the palace drawing.

"What are you making?"

Kiyi proudly held up the picture. You looked at it, there were three stick figures, you, Zuko, Sokka. It seemed normal until you noticed a couple of smaller stick figures.

"What is this?"

Kiyi beamed,"Your babies."

You blinked, "My what?"

"Your babies."

"...My babies?"

"Yep."

"Oh."

You paused, trying to find words, "Kiyi?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did you draw this?"

The little girl looked confused. "Because they talk about it all the time."

You froze. "...Who talks about it?"

"Zuzu and Sokka."

The world stopped. "Oh."

That evening, you found both men in the palace gardens and the second they saw your face, they knew something was wrong.

"What happened?" Sokka asked.

You folded your arms.  "Kiyi happened."

They both immediately looked alarmed.

"Oh no," Zuko muttered.

"You've been talking about having children?"

Silence. It was so quite you were pretty sure you could hear crickets. Sokka looked at Zuko. Zuko looked at Sokka. And neither spoke, which was answer enough.

Your eyes widened. "Oh my spirits."

"It wasn't supposed to come out like this," Sokka said immediately.

"We weren't trying to pressure you," Zuko added.

"We just—"

Neither seemed sure how to finish.

"We love you."

"We both do." Sokka nodded.

"And when we think about the future..." He smiled sheepishly.

"You're in it." 

Your chest tightened.

"And eventually..." Zuko looked away briefly. "As ridiculous as this sounds."

"It doesn't."

"It does."

"It really does."

A laugh escaped you and the tension finally broke.

"We've talked about it," Sokka admitted.

"Probably more than normal people should."

"Definitely more than normal people should," Zuko corrected.

"And?"

They shared a look.

One of those silent conversations they'd somehow become good at.

Then both looked back at you.

"And someday," Sokka said softly.

"If it's something you wanted too..."

Zuko reached for your hand.

"We'd like to have a family with you."

For a moment, nobody spoke.

And suddenly every weird comment, awkward hine, adn  suspicious baby conversation made sense.

"You idiots."

Sokka immediately panicked. "That's not a no, right?"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

The idea seemed so simple. So nice, and something that could be done.

A testament to how much Sokka understood what happened between you two was a great chemistry underneath an even greater friendship. There were no trapping feelings, no ownership, not a hint of jealousy, ever.

The request still took you by surprise.

When it happened, it took you a while to understand what was happening.

Sokka started it in a ramble, and you followed it only so much, too busy tracing the patterns of his biceps under the fur blanket. "Anyways. Not everybody understands intimacy, right? Not everyone gets relationships, I feel. Like, most people only get the 'should be' and 'must be' this-or-that, but none of them actually develop relationships with other people. Even the people they're close to. Does that make sense?" You hummed and nodded along, blissed out and enjoying the sound of his voice, low and calm in the dim light. "Which... Uhm. That makes me realize something. You're perfect fot it."

"Perfect for what?"

"How didn't I notice it before? I'm so fucking stupid."

That makes you chuckle. "You're the least stupid person I know."

"Oh, sometimes I'm wildly dumb," he laughs. "Fuck!" He slaps his own forehead with his free hand, which then comes to rest in your hair. "You're perfect!"

"I... feel like that's a directed compliment."

"And smart!" He kisses your forehead, giggling. Then, his semblance changes in a second to a seriousness you're not used to. "I mean... I told him I'd think about it and help him 'cause the last we talked about this, he said he didn't want any sort of, uhm, escorts—"

Now you were lost. "Sokka, I'm lost. What on earth are you talking about?"

"Can I talk to you? It's gonna be... uhm—weird." His grimace confirms that he means what he says. "I think. It's also important. Private? Definitely private. And definitely weird. And I really hope you don't take it the wrong way."

Although he rambled for many reasons, it rarely came without funny quips or a smile on his face. It was serious.

You stopped tracing patterns in his skin and stood a little further up, resting your head on your hand, elbow digging in the mattress beside him. "I'm listening."

Sokka visibly swallowed. He thought for a few more seconds, only deepening the knowledge that this was a serious business for him, and when he spoke, his voice was lower. It made you shiver beneath the blankets, and you listened with intent to his words. "A few months ago I... came around to an unusual discovery. Very unusual. I was surprised. You know how hard it is to do that. And he surprised me!" His smile then was a grimace again. "Even though he's had a serious relationship... No, I'm starting in the wrong place. Alright. If I told you there's a buddy of mine who's—look—I'm not saying I know the type of men you like, but—I do. I could say that. I won't, but I could—and he's it. Every bit your type—"

"What's my type?"

"Smart, pretty, brave, a little bit reckless—" he listed, counting each finger in the same heartbeat he was asked. His smile became real, sexy, knowing. He winked at you, the smile faded, and he continued. "Well. Even though he's all that... I've lost hope. I think I had it for way too long and now I'm scared it's too late, actually."

"What are you talking about, Sokka?"

"He's a virgin."

After a heartbeat waiting for more where all he did was stare at you expectantly, you shook your head. "Still lost, big guy."

"He's a virgin and I told him I'd help him lose that virginity."

"Woah! I... didn't know you... were into boys? But I'm—"

"No, no!" He interrupted you while laughing. "No, pretty. I'm not. If I were, trust me, he'd be all unvirgined—"

"Not a word."

"—and I'd be all up on that. It's a word now. But... like... I had no clue how to help him, considering he's still a virgin due to a bunch of—uh, intimacy issues? Trust issues as well. Definitely trust issues. He told me, 'No, Sokka, I don't want a fucking escort—how would that be helpful? I told you I don't trust anybody. I'm telling you because I trust you' and it made my job very hard, you know? But I had the answer all along!" His smile is back. He pulls you closer. "Right in my arms."

The words spun for a while around your head while Sokka kissed the skin he could reach, and he was right. It did make sense.

Pondering what he's told you, allowing his kisses to drop to your shoulders even felt... better. Goosebumps rose on your skin at the thought of Sokka considering you someone so worthy of trust.

A year into this arrangement meant you understood each other well, and the years of friendship before that equated to respect and a deep fondness in your heart—maybe even love, if the use of that word did less to scare you to death, but this—Sokka's low chuckle vibrating on your skin made you push your body impossibly closer to his.

"So you trust me?"

In the same heartbeat, he replied. "With my life," easy as that. Sensing the weight of his words in the tensing of your body, he elaborated, whispering your name against your skin. "...you helped Aang and me when we needed a hiding spot for that mission, and you never said a word of that to a soul. You never prod when you realize there are things I can't say. You'd kill for children who aren't even yours. How could I not?"

For the next few hours, his friend is all but forgotten.

The only thing on your mind is the curves of his body and the way he enjoys touching yours.

Nothing else.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

For two months, there are instances where Sokka makes it come to life.

Questions like: "Would you be willing to go to the Earth Kingdom to make it happen?"

"Make what happen, big guy?"

"You know. My buddy? Your trusting hands taking care of a touch-starved person who deserves these able... sexy fingers?"

There are times when the conversation goes well, and others, both of you barely make it past the question itself before Sokka's compliments get the best of you both and drive your legs, arms, limbs, tangled bodies to the nearest surface.

Other times, in places and situations where somehow the sexual tension that always existed between you two can be tamed as if a lid of ice were put over a small fire, the talk develops. And Sokka is the furthest from a liar, but knowing how true he's been about those words in his bed that day makes the whole arrangement even sexier.

"I have a letter from him. D'you wanna see?"

"From your buddy," you chuckled.

"The one and only," he smiled. "I told him I've had the answer all along lying right beneath me," as if the innuendo wasn't enough, he wiggled his eyebrows, "then explained who you are. Told him if it was okay, I'd talk to you about it—shush, I could never say my big mouth got the best of me, and I had already planned everything already, and you were on board, so pretend this is me explaining it all to you for the first time, alright?"

"Alright." Laughing was one of the things you did the most next to Sokka.

"Cool. Everything's explained, and this is what he says." He pushed the letter over the counter.

Even with the blue ice beneath it, the letter still warmed you up. It was the orange-colored parchment of the fire nation, but it was the words that caught your throat and lit you up from head to toe.

ㅤㅤㅤ... as for your 'friend'.

ㅤㅤㅤThe picture is... lovely. Beautiful, if I'm being honest. Breath-taking, if I stop holding myself back. But I must ask—how can you tell me she's perfect (which I can see, thank you for that), and then tell me this woman, whom you call 'a friend and also more and also beyond words I have in my vocabulary' is someone you could just... set me up with? Aren't you jealous? Aren't you setting yourself up for heartbreak? How is this not weird to you? Should it be weird to me? Because it's not. I feel as if it should be. You always did know the way, I think.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤI'm at a crossroad, I feel. Part of me wishes you would talk to her for me, but the other says I'd be just me about the whole ordeal. I'm strange. My strangeness is why I'm still... you know. What if she thinks I'm too weird? What if she doesn't like something about me and months of planning go down the drain? She could hate the way I smell. I don't know, Sokka. I feel redundant, but, help me out.

The letter went on, but you read from the point where Sokka pointed a finger and realized this is where the parts about you stopped. You were smiling while biting your bottom lip, and Sokka noticed.

He smiled knowingly.

"Your buddy's an overthinker," you said.

Sokka rolled his eyes. "You don't say."

"He seems interested, though."

"You're modest."

"He's a flatterer," you mumbled, but the compliments had done their job, and Sokka is aware.

He chuckles. "He's realistic."

"You never said your were sending my picture to anybody."

"That photo's mine and you told me I could do whatever I please with the pictures I took of you. You looked great. It's the one you're in my balcony with the sheets sort of hanging from your shoulders, smiling at the sun rising. You're gorgeous."

"You're a flatterer."

"Shut up and tell me if I can set you both up."

"I already said yes to your crazy idea, Sokka."

He clapped twice. "Excellent! Let's make him get a taste of heaven, then."

And so it went.

Sokka came around, showed you a piece of a letter, talked about what his 'buddy' needed, then asked what you needed and what would make you comfortable.

'What's the best place?' A middle ground came to be. 'Is there anything he should know about you?' Just tell him I'm bossy and it'll be fine. Does that bother him? 'He said, come here, read... that's more than fine by me'. Everything that should be done and said was laid on the table. After the first letter, Sokka often showed you bits and pieces of their exchanges and made sure to include any information about his buddy he thought to be important.

When an important meeting of his buddy coincided with a week you had off, Sokka finished his arrangements. Everything was said and done, except for, maybe, a name.

A part of you said that was maybe part of the trust issues. Something unimportant. Definitely not something to worry about, considering the bridge between you two was Sokka—your clever, sweet, funny, and intelligent guy Sokka. No harm could ever come from him.

(A name would've been good.)

At Gaoling, a luscious and gorgeous city filled with its rivers and forests at the South of the Earth Kingdom, Sokka pins the final dots. It's a place for fancy business, people with riches, and businesses you have no business knowing about. It has a castle with an architecture worthy of Ba Sing Se, and it's in one of the highest floors, where Sokka leaves you with a:

"Have fun, you two."

"Is it weird I'm getting nervous only now? I'm nervous." He smiled at you, then looked up at the Moon from where he stood on your balcony. It reminded you of the picture he showed to his buddy, and, for the first time, it makes you want a name. "I don't even know his name,'' you whispered in despair. "What's his name?"

That made Sokka laugh. "You two are ridiculous. He doesn't know your name either. I call you 'Beautiful' and so does he, did you know? Now you do. I left a bottle of Latierra for you two. Don't drink before he gets here, though." He left the balcony and walked over to you, appreciating the view of the outfit you picked for the occasion. The undergarments were hard to see underneath the silk burgundy robe, but Sokka had a good imagination and memory. "Is it weird that part of me wished I could watch it all?"

The timbre of his voice told you all you needed to know about where his mind was at. "No. I mean—You could stay..."

Sokka only touched the tip of his fingers on your cheeks. After licking his lips, his smile widened, making you feel like prey. "No... I couldn't. Not this time. But I'll be thinking about it. Hope you two know that."

"Sokka..."

"Hmhm. It's a nice view to think about."""Hmhm. It's a nice view to think about."

"I don't even know what he looks like," it came out in a whine, your eyes closing as he carressed your neck now. "What if someone walks in here and I think it's him but it isn't? All I have is 'he's your type'. Why did you never show me a picture?"

"He hates pictures. And don't worry—beautiful, when have I ever put you in danger?"

"Never."

"Exactly." His caresses told you Sokka wanted more now. Something held him back, and it made the heat between your legs awaken to realize Sokka was leaving everything for his buddy. Not once had he touched you today. "He's the only one with clearance to get on this floor other than me. We'd never half-ass this."

The mental note of 'wealthy' about the Buddy in your mind was scratched in favor of 'stupidly wealthy'.

"Got it."

His fingers stopped in the middle of your throat, and Sokka sighed. When your eyes opened, he was smiling. "The bottle's right there," he pointed somewhere in his back without looking. "I'll wanna know everything tomorrow."

"Alright."

"You look beautiful." With those words and a wink, Sokka left.

At least you knew the next person to come through the threshold of that door would be him.

His buddy.

All you could do was sit and wait.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

When the door opens, you're in the same balcony Sokka was a while ago.

The meeting took time, so you did the best thing you could in the absence of a drink and the inability to smoke without ruining the long shower and getting ready you had already done—you grabbed a book.

That slips from your hand the second you hear the doorknob turning. It almost slips to the floor, and you manage to catch it just a second before it does, but then your eyes fall on the figure that slips through the threshold and closes it behind them.

A thud resonates in the otherwise silent chamber as the book falls after all.

It's him.

Sokka's 'buddy' is him.

The Spring air is warm, and you feel it on your tongue. You're aware of how stupid you must look, taking all of it in, realizing how stupid you had been to agree to all of this with the amount of information you had. My buddy. No pictures. No names. Only trust.

(Maybe not stupid, but Agni in the fucking realms of creation...)

He's dressed in a similar fashion to you: a silk robe, only black instead of burgundy, barefoot, and the closed strings prevent you from looking further. He's broader in real life—before this, you had only seen him in Sokka's drawings, pictures, and the occasional news pamphlet.

Fire Lord Zuko.

Because... that's definitely him.

You'd recognize him by the temperature in the air around him.

Or maybe it's how his long hair, half-pinned and half down, makes you feel. There's a single droplet of sweat in the back of your neck which trickles down when your eyes reach his face and find his already in yours, wide and terrified.

"You didn't know," are his first words to you. His voice. It's smooth, not low like you imagined, but somehow better. It resembles melted butter on warm, crunchy bread, and your mouth waters at the thought. "I—"

look ready to bolt.

You shake your head—your whole body, then get up. "I'm sorry, my face and my reaction." I'm stupid. He's already nervous, both of you are, but you trusted Sokka for a reason. "Goddamn it—I'm really sorry," with a laugh, you start walking into the room without glancing in his direction for now. "I didn't know what I expected. It's fucking Sokka. Not as if he has many people he considers 'buddies'."

"Uhm—are we talking about the same Sokka?"

"We are. He knows everybody, but everybody thinks they know him. He's got very few buddies. Of course." Of course it's you. "I apologize again, I didn't want to..." This time, you risk a glance, and there he is, standing in the exact same place he was, with his hands in the same position as before, as if you had frozen him there somehow. "Scare you."

That seems to start breaking the spell.

"I'm not scared," he replies.

"You look terrified."

Zuko's shoulders roll a couple of times in a deliberate gesture, and he visibly swallows. "I'm..." he thinks carefully of the next words. "Nervous. Scared you're second-guessing this, maybe. Or that you regret it now."

You hum. "I'm nervous, too. But not second-guessing. And definitely not regretting."

The 'definitely' seems to do something for him. His shoulders relax. "Oh."

A smile comes to your face. "Are you second-guessing or regretting anything?"

"No." Immediate. Your smile widens as he clears his throat. "Definitely not," he adds with eyes set on you.

It's his eyes that change the temperature in the room, you decide. They're warm like a bonfire, liquid gold, or crackling flames, and it makes you squirm, playing with the book in your hands.

"I took that long?" he points at the book, finally stepping in more.

"Yes, Fire Lord Zuko."

If you were looking elsewhere, you might miss the subtle ways his body betrays him, but you're attracted to every inch of him and his movements, so you store that for later. "Just—Zuko is fine."

"Alright, Zuko. You did take long, but I imagined it. He did say you were in a meeting."

Zuko sits in the immense bed, and you realize that despite having relaxed for a mere second, he's tense. Is that how he is? Shoulders back, perfect posture, slight and calculated moves?

"What were you imagining?" his voice is lower, lost in thought and confusion.

You laugh. "Honestly? I have no clue. All I had to go was..." The memory slaps you in the face, heating your cheeks.

ㅤㅤㅤ"I'm not saying I know the type of men you like, but—I do. I could say that. I won't, but I could—and he's it. Every bit your type—"

ㅤㅤㅤ"What's my type?"

ㅤㅤㅤ"Smart, pretty, brave, a little bit reckless."

"Was...?" Zuko presses.

Not willing to say the exact words, you avoid his eyes. "Apparently, Sokka knows 'my type'."

"Sokka's seen you with enough men to know I'd fit somewhere there in the middle?"

"Sokka's only seen me with Sokka and—" fuck it, you think. Sighing", you do your best Sokka voice. "Smart, pretty, brave, a little bit reckless."

When you open your eyes to gauge his reaction, you're thankful you did.

His embarrassment is visible in the color of his cheeks now.

"So what I'm hearing is..." he says after a few heartbeats. "Sokka called me pretty, smart, and brave."

"And a little bit reckless."

"Yeah, I heard the whole thing." Zuko's shy smile does more than one thing to your insides, and when it directs itself to you, it makes a mess. "Is it weird if we talk about him?"

The laughter is inevitable. You lean on the table behind you. "It'd be weird if we didn't. He's the reason we're both here."

Tension leaving his body is as visible as steam leaving a heated surface, and you're thankful once again. "Right. I... don't know how much he's told you."

"It's Sokka."

Zuko laughs for the first time. "Agni, I'm fucked."

You join him in laughter. "I'm—yeah, I'll avert from the obvious joke this time."

It swells your chest in pride when Zuko's laughter doubles and continues for another moment as your words register, and his cheeks turn redder. "Oh, okay. Gimme a second."

"Hey—I'm in no rush whatsoever. As a matter of fact," turning around in search of it, you find the bottle Sokka promised and lift it in the air. "A present from your friend."

Zuko's knowing smile is a problem for you. "He's the funniest person I know." Seeing the confusion on your face, Zuko points at the bottle. "That was my present to him. His last birthday."

"Oh, I'll have a talk with him about repurposing gifts when I see him."

"No, it's fine. He never liked wine, I should've known better."

"You were trying." The pop it makes when you open it is pleasing, and it gives you a moment of distraction from the heavenly beautiful face behind you. Two cups. Breathe so you don't drop any of the expensive liquor. "Do you want it?"

"I think I'd rather not be tipsy."

"One glass makes you tipsy? I'm not planning on drinking any more than that and, frankly, I need this."

Behind you, there's the sound of fabric shuffling. "Yeah." He says after a moment. "One glass would be nice, thank you."

So polite. You pour his as well and then breathe in deep before turning back around.

All the tension that had left is back in him, and you mentally curse yourself for taking your eyes off of him.

Zuko follows each one of your steps in his direction and accepts the glass with care to not touch your skin in the process.

"I'd ask how much about medid he said, but I think I can have an idea," you knew about the photo, and if the bits and pieces of the letters from Zuko he shared with you were an indicator, you guessed Zuko got the same when Sokka replied in his own letters.

Thinking back now, if you had done the job of peeking a bit more into the letters Sokka showed you, maybe you'd know who it was all along.

Sitting next to him, you decide to take the lead already. "I'm nervous, too."

The confession makes him whip his head, cup halfway to his mouth. "You are?" The disbelief makes you smile.

"Yeah." You're the Fire Lord is not quite right. You're so beautiful it hurts sounds too true. "Of course. I—this is nerve-wracking."

"Being with... a virgin? Or with me?"

"The first option," you chuckle.

Zuko seems to find the answer a pleasing one. He smiles kindly and shyly for the first time. "Oh." He takes a small sip of the wine. "Well. At least that."

"I thought you believed me when I told you I didn't regret it."

"And I do! Really. But not regretting and my position not making you nervous are two different things."

"Your position doesn't make me nervous." The reassurance grants you this: Zuko turns around, sitting with his legs crossed in the bed and facing you entirely. His posture is loose, and you're content it was you and not the wine that did that. "Although..." with a dramatic pause, you gain a raise of eyebrows from him. "I did think the weirdest thing to happen in my artist life would be to sleep with the Avatar's best friend."

Zuko laughs. Two things happen when he does. One, you realize how fucked you are when it comes to this being one of your strongest core memories—his neck, the warmth of the air around him, how insanely gorgeous he looks with his hair framing his face and laughing.

Two, a hook sinks somewhere in your chest. Deep, strong, and clung to a dark place.

"Oh, Agni. Sokka really dragged you into a mess, huh?"

"Did he?" It's your turn to sip the wine.

His shrugging shoulders and attempt at being coy are trumped by his cheeks painted pink once again. "Kinda, yeah."

"Your smile is so beautiful." It blurts out of you. It paints his face in a crimson tone, making your insides twist and turn to match the storm happening in his eyes, but you're not done. "I know you must get it a lot from people surrounding you, all the time, but... It's the truth. Someone once told me that compliments which come from the heart should always be shared, so the happiness is too."

"I see you also know Hakoda."

"I see you're a master at deflecting compliments." Something bubbles inside of you at his proximity to Sokka's family. "But that's alright." Another sip from your cup, a small one. Talking to Zuko is not something you ever imagined doing, but are enjoying it. Treasuring it. "Hakoda's a genius. I try listening to my elders whenever I realize they have a functioning brain on their shoulders. Means they've accumulated wisdom."

"You're right. I've never not listened to my uncle anymore. I did it enough in a lifetime, never again."

"Right... your uncle, the Dragon of the West."

Zuko's smile widens. "He'll be pleased to know he's still being remembered by that nickname. Especially amongst the young, beautiful ladies."

You laugh. "Ah—not good at taking compliments but smooth as jasmine tea when delivering them, aren't you?"

"I like Hakoda's advice." Zuko's coy demeanor makes you wonder what he's hiding underneath it. "Plus..." You wait patiently for him and whatever trail of thought robbed you of him for a few moments. When he returns, Zuko's face becomes serious. "Can I be honest with you?"

Ah. "Always," you tell him in earnest. "You'd gain all of my respect if you always were. Even when it hurts. I prefer honesty to half-truths, and I find that the world would be a better place if everyone found it in themselves the guts to do what it takes and be true to what is. So yes. Be honest."

Zuko takes his time absorbing your words. When he's done, his next sip from the cup is a gulp. He breathes in, out, and then looks at somewhere on the wall behind you, averting your gaze. "I understand my privilege at having had the best healers to deal with..." Instead of finishing, he points with his free hand to the scar on his face. Ah, something in you whispers. "And—I'm aware of—this. My bone structure," he adds that part with a mirth that contains stories from another time. "I know I'd be good-looking if it weren't for this. But... when it comes to compliments, I'd rather deflect than accept something I'm always unsure if it's true. Mostly certain it isn't, most of the time. It's why I did my best to take care of my body since my coronation and did such a good job at it. People compliment me now, and I can pretend they mean my physique instead of this, which means I can accept without sounding or being fake about it, but in reality, I find it hard to see beauty in me. In my face."

The confession does it for you. The respect you have for him is planted like a seed, and you know each moment in his presence where Zuko offers you something real and honest, it'll be watered to grow as if it lived under the perfect spot of shade, sun, and moonlight.

"Can I be honest with you?" You echo.

Zuko's eyes return to your face. "Always," he echoes, too, as earnest as yours had been.

"I understand a bit more about scars than most people. I won't be self-righteous, I'm aware the War has left its scars in everybody, but we're talking about the visible kind here, right?"

"Right."

"And while I know sometimes the ugliest scars are invisible to the eye, having your darkest or hardest moments painted on your skin is not something the majority is used to."

He nods his head, warm eyes agreeing more than the gesture could ever.

"So, since you'll see this at some point tonight, I wanted to share it before I explain myself." With that, you lift the robe of both your arms to expose your forearms. There are two scars, one on each, and both are ugly, deep, uneven. Zuko asks no questions, but you do hear the muttered Agni which escapes his lips. "There's that. And..." you get lost in how to say the next words. Allow the robes to fall back down, sip more of the wine, which is making this conversation easier, and thank Tui and La, somehow manage to find them. "I think I understand it better now how someone as handsome as you is still a virgin."

That was clearly not what Zuko expected from the way his eyebrows pinched together, and he mutters, "What?"

"I was confused at first. Then you walked in, and now we're talking, and it makes more sense to me."

"Does it?"

"It does. See: you have a problem finding beauty in yourself. Intimacy, the whole deal, demands us to feel some sort of things, and when trauma blocks that ability, it can be really hard to just... let go." The cup in the hotel you're both in is big, which is something you're thankful for. "I find you beautiful. Being very frank...I think it adds character to what would otherwise be an annoyingly handsome and royal face. It's also part of who you are—part of what molded you into being the person who sits across from me right now, am I right in assuming that?"

If your words shock him too much, Zuko's quick to recover. Other than doe, wide eyes, he seems to still have a hold of himself. He nods, silent and looking at you without blinking.

"So did this," you gesture both arms up. "Unfortunately. I wouldn't be the woman I am today without having gone through this, and that means this is now a part of me, whether I like it or not. Now—granted, there might be people who tell you that you're handsome, or beautiful, but don't mean it. I, on the other hand, I rather like being known as the person who gives it to others raw and honest, because they know that when I speak something, I mean it. So... I find you beautiful. I'm not sure I would if I had met you before the change of heart Sokka speaks about, but now? Now I see someone marked by life in painful ways who still managed to find a path into being kind, benevolent, fair, and, if your letters are anything to go by... funny, too." You chuckle. "In my book, the compliment's real."

Zuko's next breath is shaky. Also... steamy? There are definitely bits of him that have a bit of smoke coming out, now that you notice.

When he speaks, it distracts you from it.

Both of his hands clap on his face, rubbing it. "Agni and Spirits, he was right," it's said with a groan.

"Who was?"

"Sokka," now it's a whine. "You're—please don't take this as pressure, but you're... perfect," he lifts his gaze, removing the hands from his eyes, right before he says the last word. As if he's looking to confirm he was right. Or that maybe you're real.

"No, I'm not."

Zuko laughs, then he squirms in his seat and sips a bit more of his wine. "You are, but I see where you're coming from. I'm aware you're not perfect, beau—uhm, I'm aware. But you also kind of are."

"For this, you mean?"

"I... yeah? Is that awful to say?"

"Zuko, that's flattering as hell," you laugh. "Do you realize how honored I was that Sokka trusted me enough to consider me for this, and how it amplified tenfold when you walked through that door?"

He squirms more, and it ignites you. What was smoke is now a flame, burning alive and beautiful, lighting up your insides.

"Stop," he breathes out.

"Hmmm, I don't think I will, actually." When your gazes meet again, Zuko averts his eyes, blush intact on his gorgeous cheeks. "Maybe just for now?"

"You're so kind," the words drip in irony, but the smile is ever as sweet. Zuko is the type of person unable to hide his feelings from his eyes, it seems.

"I am." You'll see how much would send him into an early combustion, so you withhold it. "Wanna know what you are?"

He hums, prompting you with raised eyebrows as well.

Finishing the cup in one final gulp, you raise the glass at him. "Great at gift picking." The nerves went down with the glass. You lean down to place it beside the bed, unwilling to get up or get too far from him again. "Horrible at directing the great gifts you pick, of course, but nobody can be perfect."

"He never even tasted it!" His protest is followed by an exasperated sigh. "I know he would've liked it."

"You're right," you know Sokka well enough to confirm that. "He's as stubborn as a sky bison, though."

"You really do know him, huh?" Zuko's legs come up a bit higher, and he hugs them around the knees, holding a half-full glass with loose fingers.

You sit cross-legged, sort of mimicking his position. "Have known him for years." When his reply is nothing but a hum, you ask. "Does it bother you?"

It's unnecessary for him to feign innocence as to what you're referring to. Zuko's sips are small, contained, and make you want to drink more. Or maybe taste the wine on his lips. You enjoy the way he almost always seems to think before talking.

"Should it? A traditional part of me wants to believe it should, but... being frank, not even a little."

"I'm happy to hear that. I know this isn't the ideal way for things to happen for you—again, I was and am more than honored that you want to, but idealistically, things should be different. Everyone deserved their first time to be... comfortable. With someone they trust, and feeling sure of it, desiring it, wanting it, but... yeah. I'm happy you're not bothered by how it's going."

"Was your first time like that?"

Your laughter at his question is devoid of any happiness. "Spirits, no. Not by a mile. I think rarely do people get what they deserve."

Zuko smiles, and it's a sheepish thing. "Unfair, then."

"Life is, Zuko. I'm sure you know that better than most people."

"I do. I meant unfair with you, specifically, that you'd give me a perfect first time, but you didn't get one."

"What?"

"You said it: comfortable. With someone I trust." He swallows visibly, upper body squirming. "I'm sure of it. Desiring. Wanting. So..."

It takes everything in you not to jump him at the words.

Closing your eyes to inhale deeply is a necessity—Zuko has a way with words, and it's too hot outside and in this room to blame the weather for the goosebumps rising all over your skin.

"Well..." I'm going to eat you alive. "Glad you're getting what you deserve with this," you pin your eyes on him.

Assessing his body posture now, it's easy for you to recognize the signs.

Where there was stiffness, now there's only the soft rise and fall of his breathing. His blush spread down to his neck, and although it's less dark than it was when you teased him, it's there, almost as if it's permanent. Zuko squirms, too, but he knows how to hide it well. Too bad for him, you're allowed to stare and able to catalog the ways he does so.

To stop his whole body from moving, he moves his fingers against the glass or his legs.

"You're staring," he says, interrupting your mental assessment.

"It's a beautiful view," you continue looking, wishing he was already without robes, clothes, shame.

"Yeah, it is." The words make you gaze, only to find his eyes doing the same to your body.

Deciding to test the water, you sit on your knees instead of your legs.

Keeping the robe was only for embarrassment purposes—you were okay with how you looked at this point in life, but showing yourself to someone new was always nerve-wracking.

Zuko had already seen the ugliest part of you and was still here, staring, burning holes into you.

His gaze made you hot. It was cheap and ridiculous, but the truth.

His heat warmed the very air around him, and the last thing you wanted was to be drowning in sweat before he even put his hands on you.

When you remove your robes, Zuko's eyes darken.

Those gorgeous honey orbs became a shade of gold, but one seen during nighttime. He follows your movement of dropping the clothing on the floor as he sips the rest of his wine.

Then, Zuko all but throws the glass on the side of the bed, earning a gasp from you as you wait for the breaking sound. When nothing comes but a thud, you look back at him to find him smirking and lifting his body on his knees the same way you are.

"Carpet," he offers as an explanation, inching closer.

"Right." You swallow. "I feel like you're about to melt me."

Zuko's smile widens. "I think that might be just you..." he's closer, almost inches apart from you. "I can control my body temperature. No blaming my bending now for what you're feeling."

"Oh..."

"Plus," now, close enough that you could count the eyelashes on his face, Zuko places his hand on your hip. "I recall the second and only other picture Sokka's ever sent being of you... Your back, more specifically, painted in wax. I thought you liked the heat?"

That little shit. Your eyes close, and you eliminate the remaining distance between your bodies, wanting and needing to feel him. "I really do."

When you open your eyes to gauge his reaction one final time, you would swear his eyes are black. They're not, but they seem.

Zuko licks his lips and you've had enough waiting.

"You'll tell me if I do anything you don't like?" you ask, pleading with your eyes.

He nods in reply, sighing when your hands start touching him by his arms, sliding up to feel the whole extent of them. "Ideally, you'd tell me if I do something you like, too, so I can do it again and again..." Zuko's eyes close at your words. "But I won't ask too much of you." This time, you want to say.

But you refrain from dreaming that way.

Enjoy the blessing you have right now.

When the distance closes between your lips, everything else is forgotten.

It starts off slow.

Then, like a storm that starts with a soft drizzle, it envelops the both of you until you feel his presence has drenched all the way to your soul.

Zuko is responsive.

It drives you mad the second it happens—at the first tangle of your fingers in his silky, long hair, when all of the air escapes his lungs and his mouth opens up for you, the first moan you let out is at the realization that touching Zuko will ruin you entirely.

The memory of how far he's come when touching another person returns to you.

ㅤㅤㅤ""How far has he gone with his girlfriend, then?"

ㅤㅤㅤ""Hands. Here, read it—"

ㅤㅤㅤ""Sokka, I have my working mask on, just tell me."

ㅤㅤㅤ""I don't feel comfortable reading this out loud. ... Fine, Tui and La, I can feel you giving me that look even behind that thing. He said he and Mai went as far as touching each other? Uhm. Yeah, he says here she made him cum and the other way around too, but she only touched him above his clothes. Said she tried doing more, but, you know, he got frightened and stopped it."

Your left hand starts exploring him as soon as you remember.

Zuko's body is so pliant it's easy to push him until he's sitting on his ass again, and climbing to sit on his lap makes you drunker than the wine.

He's so responsive it hurts. It pains you to realize how much every touch has an effect on him because this might be the first time he's allowing himself to experience another touch without the hate and trauma that blocked him before from allowing his mind to feel good.

When your tongues meet as he gasps for air, you moan, and he sighs in response, hands tightening on your waist.

It takes a few bold licks on his lip and a bite on his bottom lip before he untangles some knots in his mind and starts exploring your body, too.

Your hand had already found its way through his hair — which he enjoys having played with —, his nape — he likes it when you squeeze it —, his back, his arms again, and they were gliding now through his torso when you feel the first roaming of his hands.

One of them goes up to your back while the other goes down to your ass, and your hum is pleased against his mouth.

It's difficult to stop kissing him. Bordering on impossible.

Zuko is a terrific kisser. He uses just enough tongue, knows how to fall into rhythm instead of trying to battle you for it, knows how to allow it to get dirty, slow, how to get lost in it.

When you manage to untangle from his mouth to play with his neck, you discover by his soft gasp how sensitive he is.

Agni and Spirits, is all of him sensitive?

You smile at knowing that you will discover.

He's massaging your ass with both hands when you start the assault on his neck with your tongue and teeth, marking your way down to his toned chest. He's gathering courage, using his strength to pull you closer and to rock your hips against his.

The hardening length inside his trousers makes you moan out loud for the first time, and you feel the hot breath he releases next to your ear in response.

I can control my body temperature.

Are you making him lose control?

You hope so. Pray to Yue in the sky that you are.

Then, Zuko ruins you further by whispering, "I liked that."

"What part, baby?"

Zuko moans at the pet name that slipped. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you recall his reaction to being called Fire Lord by you, but it seems he enjoys both ends of the spectrum.

"My neck," he's breathless. His voice sounds a bit broken and you nip at his throat for being so good for you. He whimpers when you do so, and you place a kiss on top of the red mark with a smile.

"You're so sensitive all over... I love it so fucking much," you mark the last words by rocking your hips harder, then sucking on his earlobe to discover whether that part is something he enjoys as well.

"Yeah?"

"Yes," it comes out in a moan.

Zuko then surprises you—both with the sheer force of his strength and his action of flipping you over in the mattress, pressing your back against it, and coming on top of you.

His eyes are so open and vulnerable that you have to cup his head between your hands to look at him before diving back in.

The way your bodies move together feels like a dance.

Each grind of his hips is met with one of yours. His hands on your legs lead them to wrap around his waist, and like Yue pulls the Sea, your hands on his head give him the permission to explore your own body as well.

When he's kissing down your throat, so close to your body with hips so desperate to meet yours, Zuko shakes his head, and all your ministrations halt for a second.

"I don't know where to start," whether it's the confession or the whimper in his voice, you're unsure, but it makes you pull back on the bossiness inside of you for longer.

"We've already started." You kiss the top of his head, enjoying the smell of his hair. "But you could take these clothes off. I'm burning up, Mr. I Control My Body Temperature. I'm sweating, Zuko."

"We both are," but he laughs at your teasing and obeys your request. His robe comes off, then the silk blouse underneath it, and when he reaches for the pants, you stop him.

"Can I?"

His reply is only an enthusiastic nod.

You take off the rest of his clothes, moaning at the sight of him naked. Instead of getting lost in his head, Zuko focuses on leaving you in the same state.

Part of you realized his nervousness would come from this—not knowing where to start, but allowing him to feel as if he's taking the lead might be the answer.

He removes each piece with reverence, planting kisses on your skin along the way and moaning the more of you that is revealed.

When he gets to your undergarments and realizes he's not the only one who was dripping, Zuko's chin drops, leaving his mouth agape and you lying there with your legs open, as flushed as he looks, as affected as he is.

"Can I..." when his words drift off into the wind, you reply by spreading your legs apart more.

For someone who's never been touched, Zuko sure knows how to use his instinct to touch somebody else.

And he wants to.

He ties his hair up in a bun with the hair itself, unbothered to look away from the sight in front of him, and you're on fire due to the heat in his eyes. He uses his hands to glide through your legs, looks up to you once to get the confirmation he needs and when he sees you playing with your boobs, eyes glued to his each movement, he bends down again.

"Can you—will you tell me what's good?"

Time to take the reigns.

"I will." With one hand coming down to slide between his hair again, you allow Zuko to explore and discover because that means you get to feel his uncertainty fading and blending into something anew.

What he lacks in experience, Zuko makes up for in being a great, keen, and fast student.

The hand in his hair guiding him to the perfect spot where you want him is understood as his helper really quick.

When you have to grab on tighter because his tongue used the right pressure, Zuko moans. When you let go, holding it lighter, he understands it as 'not as good as before'.

In under a minute, Zuko's learned the way you enjoy being devoured.

All it takes is a few tugs and a couple of pointed moans for him to understand he needs to focus some strength at the tip of his tongue, use and maintain a rhythm, comprehends how sometimes licking down and cleaning up the mess that leaks from you due to his ministrations can be just as good—he pushes his tongue inside of you once and is rewarded with the loudest moan so far, and that's when he does it—Zuko grinds down on the bed and you tug on his hair through the mist of your pleasure.

"Stop that," your demand is met immediately. "I'm the one—ah—I'll be the one touching—you. Not this bed."

It's hard to talk when he gets back to what he's becoming so good at it, so fast.

When the heat in your belly starts coiling and traveling south, you have to beg him to stop.

His head perks up from between your legs and every curse word you know falls from your lips at the sight of him with lips and chin glistening.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"Nothing at all. I just wanna touch you, too. Please. Come here..." he obeys, smiling. You get to watch his reaction to the next words. "You did so good I wanna make you feel good too... Fire Lord."

He blushes all the way down to his chest.

This time, it's your turn to bend his visions—you may not have a bigger strength than him, but you have training, and he's too flustered and shaky to realize when you wrap your legs around him in a way that allows you to flip him with his back against the bed.

Instead of sitting on top of him, though, you slide to the side of the bed until your knees hit the ground.

With a comer hither motion, you look him in the eye. "Come."

Zuko obeys. He always obeys.

It's so selfish of you to do this, but you need it. "I want you sitting on your stupidly big throne one day and remembering what I look like when I'm like this."

At this point, his mouth seems permanently etched this way—gaping, hard breathing coming off with broken whimpers and moans in between.

Putting your mouth on him while you can feel slick sliding in your inner thighs from what he had done to you is an experience you never imagined having.

Usually, you get lost in this—you enjoy giving pleasure a lot, but this is more than just that. Zuko is an artpiece when he's in bliss.

His hands grip the comforter underneath him, and you let him. It takes a few seconds of getting used to the feeling of having your mouth wrapped around him for him to break off the spell and place a gentle hand on your head—not to guide or to push, but to hold.

Gauging his every reaction is worth the uncomfortable position. He's perhaps the most beautiful sight you've ever seen, with his dark hair falling on his shoulders, all of him flushed pink, and his inability to breathe properly.

When you take him all the way down, breathing through your nose to withstand the feeling of his dick hitting the back of your throat, you're rewarded with his first choked-up cry.

And your name.

Zuko starts muttering your name, eyes screwed shut and head shaking. You do that a few more times before you see the sweat sliding down his chest and decide it's time you stop before he finishes. You have no idea of whether this will go all night, and you'd rather think about anything else other than when this is done, so you lick all of him, placing a kiss at the tip when his eyelids flutter open just enough to see you do it, and you climb back on the bed.

"D'you want me to finish that?"

He still has enough sanity to shake his head and hold you. "No—I—no." He clears his throat. "I might pass out when I come, and I don't want—I want to feel you."

"So good at asking for things," you whisper, climbing back on top of him.

Despite what you imagined, Zuko does go in for a kiss.

It ingrains in your mind the way he cradles your neck to do so. His hand is big—his grip is strong, and his eyes are drunk.

A dance or a kiss—you'd bet on both. Zuko knows the way you like it already and isn't scared of it. The happy sigh coming off his nose when you start touching him again makes you realize how much he enjoys it—your touches, any small touches.

Your bodies melting together is a blur or a mist of heat, but you're still happy with it.

All the confirmation you need that Zuko is okay with you sitting on his lap and aligning his cock with you is the frantic nods he gives in between kisses. It's everything you need.

He begs for a second when you sit all the way down, so easily due to how wet everything is—him, you, the fluids and the sweat and—Agni, you're gonna burst into flames.

In your ear, he whispers. "Hold—wait—oh, god." And each whisper makes you hotter. A part of you wishes you had brought a candle so he could warm it with his bending and then brand his name on your skin, but this will have to do. Being full of him would have to be enough.

Nothing would be enough for a while after this.

Not when Zuko holds you by the nape and nods permission for you to continue. Nothing will satisfy you like looking at his face, the desperate pleasure he finds when he feels you going all the way up only to sink back down in one motion.

Nothing can top his broken whimpers. The way he mutters your name and holds onto your neck as if it's a prayer, a saving boat, a threat that binds him to reality.

The pain that starts cramping in your legs is not enough to stop you from the motion. Not when Zuko looks drunker by the second, more lost in it the same way you are.

A part of you is aware you should switch positions so it's easier for him to pull out before something unwanted happens, but he feels so good.

"You feel so good, baby."

Zuko cries against your skin. His hips started snapping up to meet your thrusts a few seconds ago and you're certain he's in a mind fog, from the way he's been unable to form words since entering you.

There's also the way his hands feel warmer than the rest of him. They grab onto your neck while the other arm is wrapped tight around your middle, and Zuko starts mumbling something against your breasts.

"What?"

Zuko's eyes are swimming in the heat you feel all over—inside you, on your skin, the whole room must be on fire, but you could care less.

"Gotta pull out, I should pull out."

It's your turn to cry.

Then he does it again—Zuko slips out only to flip you around and climb back on top of you, sliding back inside in one motion that makes you both cry out.

"Tell me if it's too much," is all he says before he starts finding his rhythm once again. "I wanna make you cum undone," he states before trying to find it—a spot, the depth, the rhythm.

Nobody can say Zuko is not a determined person. It takes a few thrusts for him to realize that the wetness between your bodies means he has to stay closer to not slip out of you.

Then he starts finding the right spot that makes you scream. At the first cry of his name, Zuko gives a moaned laugh and does the exact same thing again, and again.

"Don't stop," he tells you. Don't stop saying my name.

"Zuko. Don't stop." And he doesn't.

Not until the fire snaps and wipes everything in your way. All you can do is cry out for him over and over before you're shaking underneath him, tightening around his dick, and obliging him to pull out before he spills where he shouldn't.

Both of you shake from head to toe in each other's arms.

Never in your life had you gotten so lost. Mind so blank.

All you can do is hold on to him and allow him to hold back.

Zuko's mouth starts kissing on our neck, and the weight of his body on top of you amplifies as he loses strength, but you love it. You like the mess, the stickiness, how everything is drenched, and neither of you seems to care.

All you want is for his kisses to never stop.

“You don’t have to worry about her like this just because she’s your fiancee,” Azula says idly. 

“I don’t know why you keep bringing it up,” he says. “You were furious the first time around.” 

“That’s because my best friend was engaged to my idiot brother,” she says, rolling her eyes. “At least this time, it’s keeping her around.” 

“So you wanted us stuck in an engagement because you’re too scared to talk to her about Ba Sing Se?” 

“Watch your mouth,” Azula snaps. “The only reason you are accepted here is because of my word. I groveled at Father’s feet so you didn’t have to.”

Zuko rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Something’s wrong. I can feel it.” 

“I’m sure.”

“It’s a gut feeling.”

“And those have gone so well in the past, haven’t they?” 

“Why are you acting like this?” Zuko marvels, turning on her. “You just said she’s your best friend, and something terrible could’ve happened, and you don’t even care?” 

Azula huffs an incredulous laugh. “This is why I’ve been able to survive here and you haven’t.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“What do you think?” she questions. “You can’t hide anything, Zuko. You’re a walking time bomb, on the verge of exploding every time someone says something you don’t like. If I wasn’t here to help, Father would have already banished you again.”

Zuko scowls and Azula shakes her head. “There you go again. You can’t even hide your distaste for me, and you’ve had your whole life to practice.” 

“Because you never stop pushing,” he snaps. 

“Oh, get over it,” she scoffs. “If you’re going to be Fire Lord someday, you’re going to deal with a whole lot worse. Honestly, you should be thanking me.” 

Zuko grumbles as he turns around, but he frowns when he catches sight of the most unexpected thing—your father, having just turned the corner in a haste. 

“General Haruto?” he calls, and the man stops in his tracks, eyes widening when he sees Zuko before he schools his expression back to normal. 

“Prince Zuko, Princess Azula.” Your father bows and places his fist below his open palm before he stands up straight. “I have been looking for your Highnesses.” 

Zuko frowns as he says your name. “Where is she?” 

General Haruto’s face falls, but he manages to make eye contact with Zuko. “I am so sorry, my prince.” 

He sees Azula’s eyes widen before she can stop it, and she shoulders her way past him. “What does that mean?” 

“My son was promoted to commander recently, as I am sure you know. He takes immense pride in his ship, and he took my daughter on a short ride at her request. But,” he sighs, “they got caught in a storm that none of us expected. Perhaps they could have weathered it with Commander Kezu’s crew, but it was just the two of them. They…”

Your father trails off, and Zuko swears he sees steam curling up from his sister’s head as she glares at your father. 

“Just spit it out,” Azula demands. 

“...They were lost,” he manages. “My son’s body washed up on shore this morning. His crew will remain on the water until we find my daughter’s remains.” 

“What?” 

Zuko’s yell bounces off the walls as Azula takes a step back, your father’s head bowed. 

“Th— that can’t be right,” Zuko insists. “If— if you haven’t found her, then she’s still alive! You can’t possibly be sure that she’s dead if she’s still out there!”

“...This washed up as well, my prince.” 

Haruto holds out his hand and Zuko recoils. 

It’s the flame pin he gave you the first time around. You wore it every day since, even during his banishment, even after you met again in the desert…

Even when you died. 

Zuko wishes he didn’t listen to you. He wishes he threw his weight around a little bit more, insisted that as your fiance and the crown prince, you couldn’t stop him from coming with you no matter what. 

But you were so upset the last time he used his title and the engagement, and you’re right, truly. Neither of you wanted this engagement, but Zuko can’t go against his father again—and you’re far from the worst person to marry. You kissed once as kids and again the night before you left to go to your father’s base, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t think about it more than he should. 

Zuko loves Mai, sure—but he loves you too, in a different way. You’re a part of him, no matter what happens between you, whether you’re engaged or not. 

But now you’re gone. He failed again. But it’s worse this time—he failed you. 

Zuko only stays standing through pure force of will. There’s a distant ringing in his ears growing steadily louder as he takes the pin, the metal glinting in the light. Azula’s hands shake at her side, and Zuko’s eyes soften. Through all the fighting and showboating, it’s easy to forget his sister is just a kid. But Azula will always be his younger sister, and he’ll always love her, for better or for worse. 

“This is your fault,” she spits, and he sees the rare glimmer of tears welling in her eyes. “I will have you demoted! I will have you banished! I will—” 

Her voice breaks and she shakes her head. Zuko reaches out for her shoulder, but she rips out his grasp as she blinks away tears. Azula’s eyes dart between the two of them, manic in her anger, then she turns and runs. 

Azula never runs from anything.

“I will make you privy to any funeral arrangements once we find her,” Haruto says, and Zuko only partially hears it as he looks back at him. “I am so sorry for your loss, Prince Zuko. I know you two were close even without the engagement.” 

He nods, but he doesn’t really feel anything. How could you actually be gone? “I’m sure my father will provide you with the necessary resources.”

Haruto nods with a sad smile. “That is why I am here.” 

“Good luck,” he says, almost numb.

Zuko doesn’t want it to be true. You’re one of his only friends, and you’ve stuck beside him even through not one, but two unwanted engagements. 

But why would your father lie about this? He lost two children in one night. Zuko’s amazed that the man is still standing. Uncle barely made it through one loss. 

“Thank you, Prince Zuko,” your father says quietly. “I am only sorry this is the way we had to meet again.” 

He walks away, leaving Zuko alone as he stares at the flame pin in his hand. All he has left of you is a stupid gift that you never even wanted in the first place.

You’re gone.

You’re really gone.

- 

Everything is too much.

You don’t even feel anything at first, fully numb to the world until you begin to slowly regain consciousness—a shock in itself. 

Immediately, pain shoots from your head to your toes and everywhere in between. When you try to move, you’re only able to groan. Your hair is plastered all over your face, completely torn out of its topknot. It feels like a tank train has plowed straight into you. You can’t open your eyes because the full force of the sun is beaming down upon you. Even the sand scrapes against your skin like knives. 

It takes all the strength you have to push yourself up onto one shoulder—then you see a boy standing across from you, and you scream and fall back down. 

“I’m sorry!” he exclaims, his eyes widening. “Oh wow, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“Holy shit,” you breathe, placing a hand on your chest where you feel your thundering heartbeat. You try to calm down as you brush your hair out of your face and stare up at the perfectly blue sky, but the incessant ache through your whole body makes that difficult. “Where am I?”

“A beach.”

You groan. “Where?”

“A beach in the Fire Nation,” he says, and you frown. There are no beaches at your father’s army base, just endless forests with an abrupt start to the docks. 

You manage to sit up again with considerable effort, biting back all your grimaces. The boy looks even younger than you, wearing nothing but swim trunks with slightly damp hair and blue lines running across his arms and legs and ending in a point on his forehead. 

That’s when you realize—they’re not blue lines. 

They’re arrows. 

“Oh, spirits,” you whisper, “I really am dead.”

“What? No, you’re not!”

“You’re the Avatar,” you say faintly. “The Avatar is dead.”

He frowns. “I’m not either.” 

“You’re not the Avatar?”

“I’m not dead!”

You feel faint. “But Azu—” 

You stop, not wanting to reveal yourself to the Avatar of all people, but he just gives you a wry smile. 

“It’s okay. I recognized you pretty quickly. It’s hard to forget the people who try to kill you multiple times.” 

You grimace. “Sorry about that.” 

“Well, what are you doing here?” he asks. 

“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t know?” 

“Honestly, yeah. You don’t look like you’re in great shape.” 

“I don’t feel like it,” you admit. “I don’t even know how I would’ve gotten here.”

“Are you saying you don’t remember anything?” 

Your brows pinch together as you try to go through your mind, but it’s a weary mess right now. All you can really gather is the revelation in your father’s office, reading letters and realizing he’s been lying to you— and then it strikes like lightning as your eyes widen. 

“Kezu,” you realize in muted horror. You push through the pain as you struggle to your feet and stumble to the shore, water coming up to your ankles as you stare out across the horizon.

“Kezu!” you shout, cupping your hands around your mouth. “Kezu, I’m here! Kezu—” 

Your voice breaks as a few tears stream down your face, and you fall to your knees in the water. Before your memories were flashes, but now it’s all crashing into you like a wave, strong enough to knock you down. 

You were trying to leave together, to finally get away from the Fire Nation, but your father found out. Kezu stayed and forced you to go. The fire from their attacks burns against your eyelids and you choke back a sob. Kezu is strong, but even he couldn’t win against your father’s numbers—and General Haruto is not known for his mercy. 

He really sacrificed himself for you. 

You only barely hear the Avatar’s voice through the ringing in your ears, but you can’t move. He wades out to you and helps you stand, surprisingly strong for a little kid as he helps you back to the shore.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “You don’t need to help.” 

“Everyone needs a little help sometimes. Besides, I think if I let go, you would fall.” 

You think he’s right. You feel like a newborn puma goat with your shaky legs. You’re already thinking about how much it’s going to suck drying your clothes out with your firebending, but then the Avatar moves his hands in fluid movements and starts to bend the water out. 

“Thanks,” you say. 

“No problem,” he says. “Katara and I have to do this a lot.” 

You stand in awkward silence until you’re dry. The Avatar sends the water back into the ocean then looks at you with gentle eyes. He’s just a kid—a kid that you spent a month terrorizing. You can’t get the thought out of your head. 

“Who’s Kezu?” he asks gently, and you swallow the lump in your throat as you glance away. 

“My brother.” You wrap your arms around yourself and let out a shuddering sigh. “I don’t think he was as lucky as me.” 

“I’m so sorry.” 

You blink back your tears furiously. “Thank you. A- and thank you for your help, but if you let me go, I won’t bother you ever again.” 

He frowns. “What? Why would I leave you?”

“Because I’m Fire Nation,” you say. “And I’ve tried to kill you and your friends.” 

“But you’re not trying to kill me now.” 

“I don’t think I could even if I wanted to,” you frown. “But I— you’re the Avatar, I mean. You have things to do, and besides, I’m fine.”

“I don’t think you are.” 

You sigh and look away again. You might be dry, but your skin is still so much colder than you’re used to. You focus and start heating your skin from within, but you stumble at the smallest use of your power. The Avatar moves, prepared to catch you, but you steady yourself and manage a shaky smile.

“I told you, I’m fine.” 

“Maybe you are,” he says. “But one of my friends is a healer, and she can look over you to make sure you really are okay. It would make me feel a lot better.” 

“You really think your friends will trust someone from the Fire Nation?” you ask wryly. 

“I can vouch for you!” he promises. “And like you said, I don’t think you could hurt anyone right now in your state.

You throw a weak punch to prove a point, but make an equally weak flame. The Avatar smiles. 

“I don’t think you want to hurt us anyways.” 

“And how’s that?” 

“Because you wouldn’t have ended up here if you weren’t running away,” he says gently, and you shiver even with your heated skin. 

“How are you just a kid and already so good at reading people?” 

“Because I ran away once too,” the Avatar says. “But we all have to face our destinies sooner or later.” 

You purse your lips as you look out across the sea. You only see specks of land against the horizon, which you stand absolutely zero chance of getting to on your own. 

If the Avatar is here, that means Sokka is here. And if the Avatar is actually alive, maybe that means Sokka is fine too. 

And honestly, you would much rather take your chances with the Avatar and his friends than the nation you just betrayed. At least you’ll get to see Sokka again, even if it’s just for a few seconds before he inevitably kicks you out. 

“I guess I don’t have any other choice,” you sigh, and the Avatar smiles as you turn back to him. 

“That’s the spirit!” he exclaims, and you start walking off the beach into the greenery together. A few seconds pass before you glance at him. 

“What’s your name anyways? You’ve just been the Avatar in my head since we met.” 

“I’m Aang,” he says. “What’s yours? You’ve just been scary Fire Nation lady in my head.

You give him your name then frown. “I’m not scary.”

“You’re an incredible firebender, and you were trying to kill me.”

“You really think so?” you muse. 

“Yeah, I do think you were trying to kill me.”

“I mean the firebending part. Do you really think I’m an incredible firebender?”

“Of course,” he says. “The other part’s true too.” 

“Naturally.” 

It’s a slow and painful walk back to their camp, but Aang talks your ear off to make the time pass even slower. 

He’s a nice kid, nicer than you deserve, but you just received some of the worst news of your life. At least his endless rambling is kind of helping to keep your mind off of it. That sinking dread is still there in your stomach.

Your brother is gone because he tried to help you, and you have to deal with that for what you think will now be a very short life. 

Soon you start spotting tents, and you see a small fire going in the center of their camp. Two figures are sitting by the fire talking, and your chest feels all tight. 

Sokka. 

By now, Aang is having to support you with your arm over his shoulder, and you feel like you’re about to pass out. You were fine back at the beach, just kind of aching all over, but now it’s like a komodo rhino trampled you on top of the tank train. 

Aang uses his airbending to keep you from falling when you stumble, then he starts shouting. 

“Katara! Sokka! I need your help!”

The figures at the fire stand up and immediately start running, and you recognize Sokka even from here. Your throat closes up a bit when you see he has his hair down, your legs growing even weaker. You suddenly feel very self-conscious about your tattered clothes and the sand stuck in your damp hair. 

You try to comb it out as they get closer, but when Sokka’s eyes lock onto yours, he freezes, nearly toppling over. 

“I don’t believe it.”

“Hi,” you say softly, and his brows knit together just so.

His sister stops beside him, her eyes widening as she glares at Aang. “What are you doing bringing someone from the Fire Nation back here? And why are you just showing off your arrows for the whole world to see?” 

“Lecture me later,” Aang says. “I found her washed up on the beach, and she’s really hurt.” 

“Oh, I doubt that,” Katara says. “It’s probably just a ploy to get close to you so she can kill you.” 

“It’s not,” he insists. “She was running—” 

“Tui and La!” she interrupts, eyes widening as she stares at you. “You’re one of Azula’s friends!” 

“Why can’t I ever just be myself?” you mumble. Your vision is swimming by now. Right is left and up and down and this child Avatar is the only thing keeping you standing. 

“Wait a minute,” she says, and she turns to Sokka. “Don’t tell me this is the girl.” 

His eyes widen slightly and he purses his lips. “I won’t tell you then.” 

Katara groans. “I can’t stand you!” 

“I wasn’t even the one who brought her back!” he insists. “Blame Aang! He’s the goody two shoes that brought her right into our camp!” 

“She was hurt!” Aang exclaims. “She still is!” 

“She’s a firebender that tried to kill us!” 

“But she felt bad about it—” 

“I don’t really think that matters, Sokka!”

They continue to go back and forth, but you don’t really hear any of it as your legs give out beneath you. You slip from Aang’s grasp and tumble to the ground, and the last thing you see before your eyelids flutter shut is Sokka running towards you. 

-

“Azula, this is stupid.” 

“All you do is complain, Zuzu.” 

“Don’t call me that!” 

“I’ll stop calling you that when you earn it,” Azula says haughtily. “Besides, you were all set to play when your girlfriend asked you to.” 

“She’s not my girlfriend!” Zuko shouts, and you and Ty Lee grin as Mai flushes bright red. 

You think Mai has been crushing on Zuko since the first time she stepped foot in the palace, and even though you have no idea what she sees in him, you love teasing her with your friends. 

“I don’t know, Zuko,” you say innocently. “I always see you staring at her when you’re walking through the gardens. That’s weird if you don’t like her.” 

“How is it weird?” he marvels, eyes wide with exasperation. Ty Lee has to cover her mouth to stifle her giggles. “She’s my friend— am I not allowed to look at my friends anymore?” 

“Some noble houses consider a longing gaze a marriage proposal,” Azula says sagely. “Don’t you pay attention in class?” 

Zuko flushes and he looks at Mai. “You pay attention in class. She’s lying, right?” 

“I don’t know,” she grumbles. “Stop asking me questions.” 

“Geez, what’s wrong with you?” 

“What’s wrong with you?” Mai counters, and Zuko groans. 

“This is why I don’t play with you guys! You’re all completely crazy!” 

“So you can train with us but you can’t play with us?” Ty Lee pouts. 

“At least you don’t talk this much when we’re training!” Zuko complains, crossing his arms with a huff. 

Azula gives you a sharp smile and you feel your cheeks heat. You feel bad teasing Zuko sometimes, but he’s the oldest, so he can take it. That’s what Azula says, at least. 

Your attention is drawn to the palace doors when someone yells your name. You flinch before you can help it, but when you turn to see your brother, you grin wider than ever. 

“Kezu!” you shout, and you sprint across the gardens to barrel into him. He laughs as he picks you up and spins you around until your head is reeling. 

“I clearly see who the favorites are,” Lee says wryly, and you laugh as Kezu sets you down. 

“You know I love you, Lee. You’re just never here.” 

“I guess General Shinu woke up on the right side of the bed today, because he accepted my request for some time off.” He grimaces. “One day, actually. I have to be back to the stronghold tomorrow. By dawn preferably, actually—” 

“Then I guess we’ll just have to make the most of it,” you interrupt with a grin. “Let me go tell my friends, then I’ll be right back.” 

Azula is frowning when you run back to your friends. 

“What’s going on?” 

“Both my brothers are finally able to visit,” you say. “We’re going to have a day out on the town before they have to go back to work.” 

“But you’re busy,” Azula says. “You can’t go.”

“We’re just playing, Azula,” you say. 

“Exactly.” She crosses her arms. “Tell them you can’t go.” 

You frown. “But I can go.” 

“Come on, Azula,” Zuko urges. “Now’s not the time.” 

“Well, we need four people to play the game,” she insists. 

“Then I’ll play,” he says. 

Your eyes widen slightly, and Zuko nods. “It’s been forever since you’ve seen them. Go.” 

You nod and run off before Azula can blast you as revenge, but you already hear her yelling orders at Mai, Ty Lee and Zuko. Both your brothers look at you when you make it back to them—Kezu with wary concern and Lee with wary interest. 

“What happened there?” Lee asks.

“Azula wanted me to play, I said I couldn’t.”

“It seemed like a little more than that,” Kezu says. 

“It was nothing. I promise. Now,” you get between them and take one of their hands in yours each, then put on your most authoritative voice, “take me to the festivities, soldier boys.” 

“I’m a sailor,” Kezu emphasizes as you start walking together, “not a soldier. Not everyone wants to be an army brat like you and Father.”  

“And I’m an archer,” Lee adds. “A Yuyan in training, specifically. It’s a very important title. You know that, right?”

“And I’m Princess Azula’s playmate,” you say wryly. “We’re all very special. Now, what have you been up to? Have you permanently scarred anyone else, Lee?” 

He groans, and you bite back your smile. The scar on your cheek has faded a decent amount since the day he accidentally grazed you with an arrow, but you will tease him for as long as you can. “How many times do I have to apologize for that?” 

“Until it’s gone,” you say. “And a little bit longer after that.” 

“You only have me for a day,” he says. 

“I’ll send messenger hawks.” 

“General Shinu reads all messenger hawks before passing them on to us.”

“Oh, good! Then you’ll both see it!” 

“No, he’ll just throw yours in the trash. Or maybe the fire.” 

“Then I’ll just send even more on fireproof paper!” 

“That doesn’t exist!”

“How would you know? I’ve burned enough things down to know what’s fireproof or not— all you do is shoot arrows.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.” 

“You don’t make sense.”

Kezu sighs, but you don’t miss his smile as he looks down at the two of you, swinging your arm with his. “It’s going to be a long, long day.”

-

Nothing feels real when you wake up. 

Your limbs are weightless, your pain is gone. It’s like you’re still in a dream, because you think that’s the only place you could feel like this—but then the lingering soreness comes back, and you know you’re in the real world. It usually fades into the background because it’s so common for you, but now that the rest of you is healed, it sticks out like a sore thumb. 

You try to sit up, but you immediately realize you aren’t all healed when you groan. 

“Oh, spirits— don’t move.” 

You frown at the unfamiliar voice, trying to lift your head to put a face to the name, but a steady hand pushes you back down. A blue glow fills the room and you feel a strange, cool sensation on your chest. 

“Didn’t you hear me? Don’t move!”

Your vision finally clears and you see the girl from before sitting beside you. Katara, Sokka’s sister—the waterbender that keeps screwing you over. You let your head fall back against the floor, deciding you don’t really want to mess with her right now.

“Where am I?” you ask, voice raspy from disuse. Your throat is so dry it hurts to swallow. 

“Where do you think?” The blue glow subsides along with the cool feeling on your chest, and she slides back. “Okay. You can move now.” 

You grimace as you sit up. The action takes a concerning amount of energy, but your splitting headache is gone, and you can think much clearer. 

“How do you feel?” Katara asks. 

“A little sore, but that’s normal.” You glance at Katara just to see she’s already looking at you, blue eyes drilling through you. “You healed me?” 

“It’s a special ability some waterbenders have,” she says. “Aang wouldn’t leave until I promised to help you.” 

“Thank you,” you say. “I… honestly don’t know how I’m alive.” 

“Neither do I,” she admits. “Aang says you washed up on shore. How’d that happen?” 

“...My brother and I were going to leave the Fire Nation,” you say, and her eyes widen slightly. “Our father caught us, and he stayed back so I could get out. I got caught in a storm, but I don’t really remember anything after that.” 

“Judging by the cuts and bruises and the two broken ribs, the sea swallowed you whole and spit you back out. You’re extremely lucky to be alive.”

“Sure,” you say faintly. 

“You don’t think you’re lucky?” 

“My brother’s dead, and it’s my fault,” you say quietly. “Take a wild guess.” 

Katara’s eyes soften. It’s worse than anger, honestly, because you don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve any of her kindness. You deserved to die on that beach for what you’ve done. 

She opens her mouth to say something, but she’s interrupted when someone walks into the tent.

Sokka. 

You freeze in place, but he doesn’t seem to notice you. His hair falls just below his eyes and he tugs at his ivory necklace, and Katara sighs. 

“Sokka—” 

“I’ll be out soon,” he says. “I just wanted to—” 

He finally spots you and his eyes widen a bit. “You’re awake.” 

You nod, then frown. “How long was I out?” 

“A day and a half,” Katara says. 

“What?” 

“You were seriously injured,” she says. “Do you know what internal bleeding is?” 

“...Bleeding internally?” 

She rolls her eyes. “If Aang didn’t find you when he did, you wouldn’t have made it off that beach. 

“I’ll be sure to thank him,” you say. If he let you leave like you asked… You swallow the lump in your throat. 

You’re suddenly very glad the Avatar is a very stubborn boy. 

“You should thank my brother, too,” she continues. “He saved you from a nasty concussion.” 

You look up at Sokka and he glances away. “I just caught you before you fell. Anyone would have done it.” 

“Sure,” Katara says. “I was able to mostly mend your ribs, but it’s going to take a couple days to heal. We’ll need to do more healing sessions.” 

“Whatever’s necessary,” you nod. 

“Can we have the tent?” Sokka asks wryly, and she frowns. 

“You want me to leave my tent?” 

“That’s what I said. Are your ears okay?”

“I’m not leaving my tent so you can gush over the girl who tried to kill us!” 

“How many times do I have to tell you that she felt bad about it?” Sokka complains.

“Until I believe it,” she says. 

“Fine,” Sokka snips, and he says your name. “Come on, we can talk outside.” 

“Why do you want to talk to me?” you ask. 

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I haven’t seen you since we were stuck in a cave together and now you’ve just washed up on our beach?” 

“...Right.”

“Don’t hurt her, Sokka,” Katara says as you stand and walk over. 

“I didn’t know you cared,” Sokka says. 

“Oh, I don’t,” she says, and you purse your lips. “I just don’t want all that healing to go to waste.” 

“You’re so kind,” he says. 

“You know me. Kind Katara.” 

Sokka rolls his eyes and walks out. He holds the tent flap open for you, then motions for you to follow. The sun is setting steadily in the distance and you frown. You really were out for a while. 

“How do you feel?” Sokka asks. 

“Better,” you say. “Your sister’s pretty amazing, being able to heal like that.” 

“Yeah. She is.”

As you’re walking past the fire, you suddenly trip over a rock in your way—then you yelp as your feet are encased in rock, nearly toppling you over. It grows up past your ankles to your calves, and no matter how much you tug, it doesn’t move. 

“What the—” 

“What is she doing here?” 

You look over to see a dark-haired girl who looks about the same age—she’s the earthbender from before, the one that completely foiled your plans. This group is really good at that. But most surprising is her blank gaze. She doesn’t look at you when she’s speaking, her hair just about obscures her gaze, and her eyes are glazed over.

“You’re blind,” you mutter. 

“Right in one,” she says. 

“Seriously, Toph?” Sokka complains. 

“We got beaten by a blind girl?” you marvel.

“I don’t need to see to pummel you,” she says. “Sokka, what is she doing here? I recognize her footsteps— she’s one of Azula’s friends.” 

“You recognize my—” you mutter, but you stop yourself when you remember she could break your legs in an instant. “Yeah. Sure. Blind girl is the best earthbender I’ve ever met. Why not?” 

“You’re awake!” 

You look over to see Aang leaving his tent, bright eyes gleaming with a demeanor much kinder than Toph’s, but your shoulders still sag. You don’t have it in you to deal with all this right after waking up. 

“Yeah,” you say. 

“She washed up on the beach and Katara was healing her,” Sokka explains. 

“I know that,” Toph says. “But why is she still here?” 

“Because she just woke up? What, do you want us to kick her out right now?” 

“I guess not.” She pushes her hands down and the rocks around your legs sink back into the ground. They buckle beneath you and Sokka has to lunge to catch you before you fall, his arms wrapping around your waist as he hauls you back up. 

“Sorry,” you say, your face exploding in heat as you look away. “I— I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

“You just woke up and you’re still recovering,” Sokka says. His hands are cool against your heated skin, and he clears his throat. “Are you good to stand?” You nod, and he carefully pulls his hands away from your waist.

“Have you had your fun, Toph?” Sokka asks. 

“Yeah, actually,” she says, and she smiles at the ground. “Now she knows not to mess with us.” 

“She’s not going to,” Aang insists. “I wouldn’t have brought her back here if I thought she would hurt any of you!” 

“Can we get some privacy?” Sokka complains, looking between his friends. “We need to have a talk.” 

“Ooh, I can hear your heartbeat,” Toph teases. “What do you want to talk about?” 

Aang grins. “Are you serious?” 

“You two are impossible!” Sokka shouts, and he grabs your hand and starts pulling you along, away from the camp. 

You stifle a small laugh, but your head is still spinning. You can’t believe these are the kids that have continuously bested Azula. They’re… well, they’re just kids. Sokka looks like the oldest one around, and it’s very clear he doesn’t have the best judgement. 

Sokka says your name and brings you back into yourself. You’re a decent way from camp, far enough to keep his friends from eavesdropping. 

“So,” he says. 

“...So.”

“Where have you been?” he asks. 

You grimace. “Do we have to talk about this?” 

“If you want to stay here, yeah.” 

“...I was in the Fire Nation,” you admit quietly, and Sokka’s eyes widen. 

“What?” 

“Azula barely gave me a choice.” 

“You didn’t seem to have much of a problem going against her when we were talking.” 

“This was different!” you insist. “Why does it matter anyways? The Avatar is alive. The world isn’t over.” 

Sokka’s gaze hardens and he looks away. “Because for a good second, he wasn’t.”

“...What?” 

“Azula killed him,” Sokka says quietly. “Aang was going into the Avatar State to try and save us all, but she struck him with lightning, and he died. Katara saved him with spirit water from the North, but…” he lets out a heavy sigh. “But for a while, it was looking like he wouldn’t wake up again.” 

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper. “I— I had no idea. Azula didn’t tell me.” 

“I’m sure,” Sokka says. He crosses his arms as he looks back at you. “Why did you go back to the Fire Nation?”

“I told you, I didn’t have a choice.” 

“You said she barely gave you a choice. That means she did.”

You sigh and glance away. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“You don’t get to pull that!” Sokka exclaims. “I t— we’ve trusted you, Katara’s healed you, Aang went out on a limb for you, all because they’re good people.”

“Sokka—” 

“But I know you better than they do,” he continues. “I know that you’re capable of lying through your teeth, of smiling one moment and knocking someone’s lights in the next moment. Just because we’ve talked a few times doesn’t mean we’re friends, okay? And I’m fine with sending you out on your own once you’re healed—”

“She said she would kill you!” you exclaim, and Sokka’s mouth clamps shut as he stares at you with wide eyes. 

“What?” 

“Azula said if I didn’t go home with her, she would kill you,” you say, blinking back tears as you look away. “She had control of the Dai Li, and you and Zuko were trapped down there, and I— I just couldn’t risk it.” You swallow the lump in your throat but your mouth is still dry as sandpaper. “That’s why I went home.”

You start walking away, unable to face Sokka anymore, but he grabs your wrist and you stop. 

“I didn’t know,” he says quietly. 

“How could you?” 

“They were a little rough with me, but I never…” Sokka sighs and shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” 

“For whatever you went through back home for my sake,” he says. “...Thank you.” 

You shrug uncomfortably. “Anyone would’ve done it.” 

Sokka smiles and you find yourself standing up a little taller. He runs s.o much colder than you, but the brightness in his smile is always enough to warm you from the inside out—even one as small as this one. 

“But you did,” he says, and you manage a smile of your own. “Now come on. It’s getting dark, and we should get back to camp before Katara starts worrying.”

“She probably thinks I threw you off a cliff,” you say. 

Sokka tilts his head. “I kinda thought you would too.”

The dull white noise of conversation in the parlor, muffled by the cloth divider in the kitchen’s doorway, lulls your senses as you brew a new pot of tea for the noble who had just arrived. You rarely got to brew the shops’ finest Jasmine tea, the leaves saved for only the most honored guests. Beyond the partition, you could hear Iroh chatting idly with the newcomer, though you couldn’t make out who exactly was on the other end of the conversation.

You’ve been The Jasmine Dragon’s main server for years now, even doing a stint as acting manager when your boss, a man you knew as Mushi then, disappeared with little warning. The locals had been crestfallen to see the shop absent of its jolly owner, but you had made your best effort at keeping the place up and running on your own. Honestly? The most difficult part had been handling the return of Mushi; the whiplash of the admittance that he had been using a fake name, the now constant whispers of the patrons that the fiery young man you had worked with, Mushi’s nephew Lee, was actually the disgraced Prince of the Fire Nation.

It felt bizarre to picture Lee in anything other than his earthy colored uniform and apron with his scowling face, even if you had seen the illustrations of him in the regal garb of The Fire Lord that Iroh brought back with him after travelling home for his nephew’s coronation. The illustration was still pinned up there in the kitchen, the harsh rendition of those soft golden eyes always peering down at you as you worked.

“Fire Lord Zuko; Bringer of the Dawn of a new Fire Nation” Read the script that was scrawled down the side of the scroll. It was the only way you could really be reminded that Lee wasn’t his real name. In his ink rendering, Zuko was only slightly older than the last time you’d seen him in Ba Sing Sei. As the steam of the teapot swirled gently upwards, you were trying to picture how he might look now.

“How is it going back here?”  Iroh’s smiling face emerges from behind the cloth divider, jolting you back to reality.

“Almost finished, would you like me to fetch some pastries too?” You loaded the tea set onto the serving tray, already well aware that your indulgent employer would want a snack to go with the tea.

“That sounds lovely,” you could hear the smile in Iroh’s voice. “I’ll be taking our guest to the private parlor if you would be so kind as to join us once you’re done?” When the graying man sees you nod in response he ducks back out into the shop, leaving you to finish assembling the tray.

It’s not until you emerge back into the main parlor that you realize the ambience of chatter that typically fills the place is hushed. Patrons whisper excitedly at their tables and watch you like hawks as you carry the serving of tea and treats towards the closed private tearoom. The silence rings loud in your ears as you draw the door open to step inside.

The sight of him, sitting elegantly at the low table, knocks the breath from your lungs.

 He’s massive; a hulk of toned muscle with posture that made it clear he was royalty. Gone was the wiry boy you had bussed tables with, the slouched awkward teenager trying too hard not to look comfortable in the Earth Kingdom.

“Lee?”

The sound of his old alias brings an amused smile to the Fire Lord’s lips, and you feel your face set ablaze with embarrassment.

“Sorry. Fire Lord Zuko, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” You set the tea tray down on the oak wood table, kneeling to pour two cups of tea.

“It’s nice to see you too.” Zuko’s hands brush yours as you pass him the cup, and he fixes those gentle golden eyes on you.

“I hope my dear Uncle hasn’t been piling too much work on you as of late.”

Iroh scoffs as he scoops the teapot up from the tray and pours a third cup, gesturing for you to join them. You sit hesitantly.

“I wouldn’t have to drown the poor girl in so much work if I could find some other decent help.” He raises an eyebrow at his nephew, as if to imply that running the Jasmine Dragon should take priority over running the Fire Nation.

“Sorry Uncle, if I could trade council meetings for serving tea you know I would do so in a heartbeat.”

You can’t help it. You let out an embarrassing snort, choking on the swig of tea halfway down your throat as you try to hold your laughter. The Fire Lord furrows his brow at you and cocks his head to the side like a confused puppy, which only makes you giggle harder.

“You hated customer service.” You manage between gasps for air.

“Every shift you had something to complain about!”

You cross your arms and scrunch your face into a replica of the scowl he wore for his entire stay in the city and summon your best impression of Lee.

“How insufferable can they get?! They just want Jasmine tea; but they must want it brewed in a crystal teapot with the light of the full moon to imbue it with peaceful energy, because they’re never happy with how I make it!”

Iroh is doubled over with laughter. Zuko drops his face into the palm of his hand, his silky curtain of hair the only barrier concealing the scarlet flush creeping up his neck at your mocking performance.

“They kept saying they could feel my negative energy steeped into it.” He groans pathetically.

“If anyone in all of Ba Sing Sei could have steeped their grumpy energy into someone’s tea, it would be you.”

“Whatever, the point is somehow the Fire Nation nobles are worse.”

“Do they nag you about your negative energy as well?”

The sound of Iroh chuckling at your familiar bickering somehow returns you to your senses. You’re mocking The Fire Lord about his customer service skills, or lack thereof. You open your mouth again to apologize, but Zuko’s expression halts you. He looks at ease, eyes alight with his laughter.

“Politics is just customer service without a friend to complain to.” He shrugs.

“My only real reprieve is my letters to my friends; no one would intercept and read through my correspondence with the Avatar. I treat him like a private journal at this point.”

“You know you’re always welcome here!” Iroh reaches across the table to pat a hand on Zuko’s shoulder reassuringly. “Come visit whenever you need to let off some steam.”

Zuko rolls his eyes, but the smile lingers on his face. “Of course, I can always halt the rebuilding of the Fire Nation, the work on the reparations to the other Nations, the domestic humanitarian efforts; all projects I can put on the wayside. In fact, why don’t I tag in another member of the royal family to help me! Do you think Azula would take an interest in the infrastructure repairs in the Northern Water Tribe?”

A glint of mischief appears in Iroh’s kind eyes. “Alright, so you can’t just take time off to visit your aging uncle. At least spend some time with the lovely ladies of the Earth Kingdom while you’re visiting! Who knows, we may just find you a Fire Lady. That would relieve some of the council’s worry, wouldn’t it? I’m sure they would let up on you a bit if they knew you had at least a chance of producing an heir.”

You choke on your tea for the second time today. Zuko’s face has returned to the embarrassed pink color it was minutes before, and Iroh is grinning smugly as he looks between the two of you. You huff a strangled chuckle, starting to gather the empty dishes back onto the tray. Easiest to take this as your cue to leave; the idea of listening to Iroh rib Zuko about his love life sounded mortifying.

──────•✦•──────

When you stepped behind the partition the next morning, gathering your hair up into your hairpiece to keep it out of the way, you were stopped short by the figure occupying your place at the counter. Zuko had traded his scarlet silk robes for the muted cotton uniform of The Jasmine Dragon. His long hair was pulled into a neat knot at the back of his skull, lacking the gilded hairpiece he had worn yesterday. His calloused fingers handled the ceramics with a delicacy you wouldn’t have expected from him.

The Fire Lord was working his old customer service job.

And he looked obnoxiously good. Not that he hadn’t looked divine in his royal attire; but there was something about how human he looked, with his head free from the weight of a crown and a serving apron tied snugly at his hips, that made him painfully handsome.

“Come now, there’s work to get done!” Iroh bustled past you, the hint of laughter in his voice undisguised as he scolded you. “Help my nephew prepare for the group in the private parlor, would you?”

“Right, okay.” You’re quick to sling your own apron around your waist as you join Zuko at the counter.

“Hope you’ve been thinking happy thoughts while you brew.”

“Of course, all sunshine and rainbows over here.”

The soft chuckle your quip earns you sets loose butterflies in your stomach. It’s strange to have him here again. You feel hyper-aware of his every move, the way he radiates heat in the small kitchen, the sound of his breath as he lights the stove with his fingertips.

You try to let the rhythm of work take you over, to soothe the tension in your chest, and finally feel the weight of his presence lift slightly as you focus on the pastries you’re shaping. You feel more comfortable in the silence of work than the awkward pauses in conversation from yesterday, happy to let the clink of tea sets and the muffled ambience of the parlor be the soundtrack of the space.

The feeling of a hand on the small of your back, feather-light and cautious, jolts you from the flow of work. The warmth of Zuko’s palm bleeds through your shirt as he steps behind you. And then it’s gone, the only evidence of it happening at all is the blush burning bright on your cheeks.

“Sorry; I’ve got a tray of ceramics, didn’t want you to step back and bump into me as I passed.”

He’s balancing a full serving tray of cups on one hand, smiling softly at you over his shoulder. “Yeah, of course.”

Really eloquent today, aren’t you?

The rest of the day passes without a return to your mental sanctuary of workflow. You’re once again painfully aware of every movement Zuko makes, as if the air he shifts with each breath sets your every nerve on fire. When you step into the parlor to deliver a tea set to the newest arrivals, the place is packed. Not with the usual flow of nobles and couples on expensive dates, but with what must be every bachelorette in all of Ba Sing Sei. Their heads snap to the counter when the sound of your footsteps reaches them, fast enough to evoke a sympathetic pang of whiplash in your own neck, but as soon as they register it’s you the return to their whispered gossip. It’s almost unsettling to watch them perk their ears like dogs whenever the cloth divider shifts.

What a bizarre aura for the usually peaceful shop to have. It felt uncomfortable now to know that the patrons were waiting so intently for a glimpse of the Fire Lord.

“You might want to be careful going out there.” You tell Zuko as you duck back into the kitchen. “The ladies are prowling like huntresses.”

Zuko’s golden eyes are narrowed when he looks at you, brows furrowed in what you can only guess is confusion.

“Hm? What do you mean by that?”

You roll your eyes at him. As if he doesn’t know. “The court ladies in the parlor; they aren’t our regulars.”

That gorgeous scarred face stayed clouded by puzzlement, maybe he really hadn’t changed that much. Even when you were teenagers, girls had crowded into the shop to try and flirt with the angsty mysterious barista. His ignorance of their attempts to snatch his attention had only made him a more enticing individual.

“You’ll see when you take the next order out.” You sighed.

The spectacle of throwing Zuko to the wolves was too good to miss, so you lurked behind the counter as he assembled the tea tray you’d tasked him with bringing out. The second he emerged from the kitchen, brows still knit together with confusion, the parlor seemed to buzz with whispers. There was a heaviness to the air itself as the crowd of women watched Zuko cross the room to set the tray down on the nobleman’s table; and when he returned to the counter all hell broke loose. Girls flocked to the counter, all chattering over one another in an attempt to talk to the poor bewildered man behind it.

You were struggling to contain your laughter, wishing you could get a portrait made of the panicked expression on the Fire Lord’s face to tack up next to his royal flyer in the kitchen. But in some dark corner of your heart there was a twinge of jealousy you wished you could extinguish. It was that same childish resentment you had felt towards any dolled-up girl who had come in to the shop years ago asking for “that beautiful boy with the scar”, it felt ridiculous to feel it resurface now.

But through the cacophony of voices, Zuko seemed to pick out your laughter. He glared at you over his shoulder, but it was lacking any real fire behind it. Though he tried to maintain the scowl all the attention had put on his face, it softened at the sight of your smile.

“Don’t look so much like you’re enjoying this.” He pleaded.

“Oh, but I am enjoying it, Your Highness. Besides, wasn’t this the goal your dear uncle had in mind for your visit?”

The look of horror and the deep red shade that took the place of Zuko’s scowl just made you laugh harder.

──────•✦•──────

Iroh and Zuko departed early in the evening, leaving you to close The Jasmine Dragon on your own. You didn’t mind; the quiet of the empty shop was soothing. After all the dishes were set out to dry and the parlor had been swept, you tucked a parcel of leftover teacakes into your bag and began to lock up the shop.

Your heart plummets into your stomach when you turn from locking the front door to see a man leaning against the door frame, and your pulse only slows slightly when you register that it’s Zuko.

“Should you really be lurking outside the tea shop without any sort of royal guard?”

You glance around suspiciously for signs of the soldiers who had accompanied him and Iroh when they left earlier. “Seems kind of unsafe for The Fire Lord to be wandering the Earth Kingdom alone.”

“Should you be making the journey home alone this late at night?” There’s that ridiculous amused smile on his lips again as he quirks an eyebrow at you. “I think you’d be in a bit more trouble than me if someone decided to pick a fight.”

As badly as you want to conjure a rebuttal, you have to admit that he’s right. Compared to him you would be relatively helpless in a fight. His smile remains as he steps away from the door, gesturing for you to follow. The streets of Ba Sing Sei were lit by the gentle green glow of the lanterns strung between the shops lining the street. The only noise that broke the silence was the occasional clatter of a passing wagon and the sound of your footsteps.

What kind of small talk do you make with royalty?

The silence felt like a chasm between you two; your boldness to tease and joke with the Fire Lord now gone despite your best efforts to recall it to use. This was a man you’d spent lunch breaks and evening rushes with. The same guy you had chattered at endlessly a few years ago.

The same boy you’d even had the courage to kiss the last time he had walked you home like this.

You shiver at the unpleasant memory of that night; at the frown he had worn after the kiss, the awkward dodge of your request to go out together after your shift the next day. The way you two had parted had been humiliating; Zuko mumbling something about not being the kind of man you wanted before disappearing the next day after a huge fight with his uncle.

Maybe that was the real problem. Not that Zuko was royalty, or the son of a war criminal, or a close friend of the Avatar, just that he was almost like an ex.

But maybe you were being a bit delusional thinking one kiss would make you important enough to be awkward around.

It takes you an unbearable amount of time to finally speak, a feeble attempt to spark conversation. You feel almost childish asking, sheltered and naïve, but it was all you could think of discussing with him to ease this awkwardness between you two

“What is the Fire Nation like?”

You’ve been curious since Iroh returned from that first visit home, weighed down by spiced treats and beautiful formal garments. The Fire Nation felt to you like a far-off world, untouchable here in a land that hadn’t even been willing to acknowledge it when it had sent armies to its doorstep. You know Iroh would have happily talked of his homeland, but you had just never felt there was a good time to ask; to try and really understand who he and his nephew were. The lunch rush certainly wasn’t the time to ask your boss to divulge such personal things.

“Well, it’s much warmer, though I’m pretty sure you could already guess that much.” Zuko’s voice held no mocking tone, much to your relief.

“It’s a lot of urban area, especially in by the royal capital, shopping districts like this part of Ba Sing Sei. Our buildings are more Imperial style though, with bright red pillars and yellow roof tiles.” He glances sidelong at you, smiling softly with pride. “Lots of Dragon statues. And we throw lots of festivals, as a kid my favorite was the Solstice Revelry. Mother always had to keep me from eating too many spice cakes.”

“I think your uncle brought some of those home; I’d need to be cut off from them too, they were delicious.” Iroh had mentioned they were Zuko’s favorite, chuckling to himself as he reminisced on what you could now assume was an embarrassing story about Zuko eating too many sweets.

Zuko was laughing now too, a gentle sound tinged with embarrassment. As if reading your mind, he turns to you and asks, “Did he tell you about the time I tried to command a shop keeper to smuggle me more sweets after my mother asked the vendors to cut me off?”

“Now you have to tell me.” You grinned wickedly at the Fire Lord, eager to hear what was clearly a mortifying story. He grimaced half-heartedly, he was the one who brought it up, so it was only fair he tells you the whole story.

And he did. He confessed, face bright pink the entire time, that when he was a boy, he had eaten enough spice cakes to make himself sick. His mother had given the sweets vendors at next year’s festival strict instruction that he was not to be given any cakes.

“None at all?” you feigned horror, hand pressed dramatically to your chest. “How could they do that to you? Such disrespect!”

Zuko rolled his eyes at you, though the adorable awkward smile he had worn since he began the story stayed present on his lips. “That’s exactly what Azula said. That I couldn’t accept such coddling if I wanted to be respected as a member of the royal family; that it would be shameful to allow the vendors to refuse me service.” He shook his head, his raven hair swinging with the movement.

“I can’t believe I actually took her seriously, but I threw a whole fit at the next stall demanding that they not treat me like a toddler. It made me look even more childish than overeating the year before. Father was furious with me, I’ve never seen Azula look so pleased.”

You’ve done your best not to laugh as he’s been speaking; beneath your amusement you’re surprised he’s been willing to indulge you so far as to share such an embarrassing story. But when Zuko suddenly crosses his arms and halts, morphing his beautiful face into a pout, and begins to recreate his childhood attempt at a demand, you can’t contain yourself. He’s stomping his foot as he complains that he can’t be told no, he’s the Prince of the Fire Nation. You laugh so hard it hurts, and he doesn’t stop his ridiculous display until you’re doubled over and begging him to give you a break.

After minutes of gasping to regain your breath, you finally find your voice again. “Oh, I would have taken that to the grave. I can’t believe Iroh never told me that story.”

“I think he was trying to spare me the embarrassment of you having even more to poke fun at me for. Probably thought it would give me excuse not to visit the Jasmine Dragon.”

“I would have thought you didn’t need excuse to avoid returning to the city,” a slight frown tugs at the corners of your lips. “Didn’t think you would be inclined to visit a place you were miserable in.”

Zuko gave you no response, the silence once more taking weight as you creep slowly closer to the street your apartment was on. You’d likely overstepped in mentioning his discontent living in the earth kingdom, even if it was true.

“I always thought the stars in Ba Sing Sei were beautiful.” 

The sound of Zuko’s voice cutting through the din of the night again surprised you. And even more surprising was the admission that he liked something about the city. The fondness in his voice. He had always seemed to harbor a quiet resentment of the city; one you had always attributed to struggling with life as a refugee.

“The stars?” You craned your neck to look up into the sky, at the glimmers of light floating in the ink pool above your heads. They were beautiful, but you couldn’t quite understand what made them any more special than the others in the sky.

“They’re so bright here; in the Fire Nation capital the lanterns are usually kept burning bright late into the evening, so the stars are harder to see. It was one of the things I liked most about this place, even if I would’ve never admitted then that I liked anything about living here.”

“Oh wow, I didn’t realize even the stars in the Fire Nation could be different.”

You finally turn your gaze from the sky to find that Zuko isn’t even looking at the stars. He’s staring at you, smiling like you’ve done something endearing. A betraying blush finds its way onto your face as you knead the back of your neck to ease the strain of twisting it to view the sky.

The two of you continue walking, the silence now a bit more comfortable. You manage to break it occasionally with talk of the shop, of Iroh, and complaints about the customers that come into the shop. Zuko listens like your voice is siren song, never taking his eyes off you. When you reach your apartment, he continues to chat idly with you at the doorstep, easing the anxiety you had been brewing that perhaps you had upset him.

“I missed that sound.” He says suddenly, barely a whisper.

You had been laughing at a joke he’d made about what a pain the Chamberlin would be as a customer. The air in your lungs seems to freeze, like risking a breath would erase the sound of those words. You’re not even sure if he meant for you to hear.

“I missed you.”

You’re almost appalled by the vulnerability of it, that you would confess such a thing so readily. You hadn’t expected to ever see him again, especially once you had been told who he really was, but his absence from the shop had felt massive. Even once Iroh had returned and you weren’t drowning so completely in the loneliness of being in the shop alone.

“I thought you had simply forgotten me in putting your life as Lee behind you. Seeing as you seemed to hate life here so much.”

“I never forgot you.” Zuko didn’t look hurt by your selfish complaint, which almost makes you feel worse. “Even if I was bitter and angry living here, it never meant I wanted to leave you behind. I was so angry because I was lost, I had to find my place in the world.”

He’s looking at you with such sincerity that it’s almost painful to meet his gaze.

“I found myself, I’m less angry now.”

His smile is cautious, like he’s afraid you might run from him. “It’s uh… actually part of why I chose to visit. I thought maybe now that I know who I am and where I belong in the world, I could be deserving of your time.You were another thing I always loved about Ba Sing Sei.”

You feel your mouth drop open. “What?” Your voice is barely a croak, your shock robbing it of any volume. Zuko scrubs awkwardly at the nape of his neck, smiling shyly down at your dumbstruck expression.

“I never really gave you an answer on going on that date you asked about. If I recall correctly, I reacted pretty poorly and then disappeared the next day.” You nod.

“If you’re willing to forgive my broody teenage self for that, I’d really like to have another chance.”

You want to respond, but your brain is short-circuiting. You open and close your mouth, still stunned, trying to force your vocal cords to produce sound. The word yes seems to lodge itself firmly in your throat, unwilling to rise any further, so you just nod again. The smile that takes over Zuko’s face is blinding.

“Amazing. You have no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this; seeing you again, I mean.”

“Really?” Your voice shakes pitifully, but Zuko still beams at you. “Really.”

“I’ve thought a lot about it too.” You feel sixteen again, blushing and mumbling like you’ve never spoken to a boy before.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to make you sick of me in one night, you should probably get to sleep.”

You unlock the door and turn to step into your home, but before you can shut it, Zuko calls your name. He hovers at the threshold of the apartment steps, brow furrowing briefly before he returns to you in the door frame and takes your hand in his. A whispered gasp escapes you as he presses his lips against your knuckles. Even after he had dropped your hand, the warmth of his touch lingered.

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow?” The quiet awkwardness you had found so endearing as a teenager had crept its way back into Zuko’s voice. You nod, mute once more, watching as the Fire Lord retreated down the steps with an impish grin on his face.

“Wonderful, sleep well then.” He glances over his shoulder a few more times as his hulking figure shrinks into the distance; you stand there on the steps long past his departure.

The Fire Lord just asked you on a date.

──────•✦•──────

Katara was able to save him by some miracle with her magical spirit water, but after that, Aang was out. Sokka had to handle a lot of things as a big brother and the sole warrior in his tribe, but he didn’t know what to do here. Katara was inconsolable.

Even still, as they flew through the night with a deposed king and a nearly dead Avatar, Sokka found himself thinking of you. 

Did you help take down Ba Sing Se from the inside? Had you betrayed them too? You were best friends with Azula, so it wouldn’t really surprise him. Just because you had a few great talks together didn’t mean you would leave your entire life for Sokka. He didn’t really expect you to, even if some illogical part of him kinda hoped it. 

At least if you were back in the Fire Nation, he had a chance to see you again, no matter how slim. He could only hope you wanted to see him too—and that you were okay. Sokka knew those doubts you were having couldn’t be a good thing to go home with. 

It’s a relief when they make it to Chameleon Bay and settle in with his people. Sokka hasn’t gotten to hug his father in years and he falls to pieces the second his dad wraps his arms around him. For once, Sokka doesn’t have to be in charge, and he doesn’t have the weight of everyone’s wellbeing on his shoulders. It’s selfish, but he’s thankful for it. 

Even still, he can’t sleep. Aang doesn’t wake up despite constant healing sessions from Katara, Toph is going stir crazy stuck on a boat, Ba Sing Se has fallen, and they’re sailing in Fire Nation waters. Even when they take over a Fire Navy ship to stay undercover, he’s still constantly anxious about being found out. The world thinks the Avatar is dead, and that’s only a good thing if it’s not true. 

“Can’t sleep?” 

He looks over to see Katara walking over, and he sighs. 

“Yeah. You can’t either?” 

“I just finished up a healing session,” she says. “When it's night, I always come out here to think after.” 

“That’s the third one today,” Sokka says. “I hope you’re not pushing yourself too hard.” 

“I’m all Aang’s got,” Katara says quietly. “I’ll do whatever it takes to bring him back.” 

Sokka knows the feeling. He lets out another slow exhale as he looks up at the moon. Yue is always watching him, and though it used to be a comfort, these days it just makes him feel like more of a disappointment. He couldn’t save Yue, he couldn’t save Suki, he couldn’t save Aang—and now you’re just another mark on the list of Sokka’s many failures.

All Sokka has ever wanted to do is protect his loved ones like his father, with a smile and effortless confidence that gives his followers enough strength to run through walls. But the only one he has left is Katara, and she became stronger than him a long time ago. 

“What are you thinking about?” she asks. 

“Oh, you know. Things to do, places to go, worlds to save.”

“Uh huh. What are you really thinking about?”

Sokka chuckles. “Nothing can get past you, huh?”

“You know it,” Katara says. “Now spill.”

“…I met a girl.”

“Suki? Yeah, we all think you should go for it. She’s beautiful and smart and an incredible warrior—”

“Not Suki.” 

“Oh. Who then?” 

“Do you remember Azula’s friends?” 

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re into that circus freak with the braid.” 

“The other one.”

“The dark-haired gloomy one?” 

“The other one.” 

“Oh.” She frowns. “What? How?” 

“You have to promise not to get mad.”

She stares at him. “You’re scaring me now.”

Sokka sighs and looks up at the sky for a moment before he’s able to speak. 

“Remember that mango I got at the market after Omashu?”

She smiles. “You don’t really forget the best mango you’ve ever had.”

“…She was the one that gave it to me.”

Her smile drops immediately. “What?”

“She was kind of… at the market? And I kind of flirted with her but then she left really quickly after—”

“You what?” Katara cries. “Sokka! How could you not tell us?”

“Because I knew you would react like this!” Sokka defends. “It’s not like she did anything!”

“You couldn’t know that she wouldn’t! She could’ve hurt Aang!”

“Hey, I was the one that talked to her. Don’t you care that I could’ve gotten hurt?”

“Well, they weren't chasing us across the Earth Kingdom because they wanted to capture you.”

He frowns. “Rude.”

“So, what,” Katara marvels, “you talk to her one time where she doesn’t try to kill you and suddenly you’re smitten?”

“Okay, I am not smitten!”

“Then what are you?”

“Intrigued?”

“Great.”

“…And it wasn’t just the one time.”

“For the love of—” she hits him on the side of his arm. “What is wrong with you?”

“It was an accident!” Sokka exclaims. 

“And I’m sure that would’ve meant so much if you accidentally got us all captured by the Fire Nation.”

“We were just meeting in tea shops!” he says. “I— I don’t know how, but I kept running into her, and she’s actually not that bad.”

“Well, she’s definitely back with Azula, so there’s no way that’s true,” Katara says. “You should focus on Suki. I like her.”

“Because I care so much about my sister’s opinion on this.” 

“You should! I give really good advice about these things.” 

Sokka rolls his eyes. “Yeah. That’s why I see you making eyes at Aang every time he does something incredible, and then you do nothing about it.”

Her face flushes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure.”

She huffs, but her eyes soften as she looks back at him. 

“You deserve good things, Sokka,” she says. “But she’s not good.”

“You don’t know that.”

“She spent the past month trying to kill us."

“But she felt bad about it.”

"Azula actually did kill Aang.”

"But she wasn't part of it."

“That doesn’t really mean much when she’s back in the Fire Nation with her terrible friends.”

“Maybe,” Sokka says. Katara sighs as she pats him on the shoulder. 

“Just know that I’m here for you,, even if you're determined to make these awful decisions,” she says. “You don’t have to go through whatever this is alone.”

He smiles, and they stand in silence for a few moments before Sokka speaks. 

“You know what’s funny?” he asks, and Katara hums in response. “I think the first year of my life was the worst year because I didn’t have you yet.”

She smiles. "Really?"

"I regret saying it already."

"It's too late," Katara grins. “But you know I’ll always be there for you, Sokka. No matter what.”

“Well, you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon. So I guess you’ll always have me too.”

She laughs and punches him in the arm, and Sokka pulls away. “Ow! That hurt!”

“Which means you know I’m a whole lot stronger now,” Katara grins. “I can help you too, Sokka. Don’t forget that.”

“I don’t think I ever could.”

-

If there’s one thing you missed while being away from the palace, it’s the gardens. 

Perhaps the only untarnished place in all of Caldera City, you would run here each time you had a free moment between training or studying to sit by the pond and watch the turtleducks.

Now you’re older and wiser, and you still find nothing more calming than going by the water to watch the turtleducks. 

They live such a simple life, floating and swimming and diving. They don’t have to deal with overwhelming expectations or moral quandaries or unwanted engagements. 

You sigh as you fall back against the tree, glancing up at the sky. You have to figure out something, but you have no idea what to do. 

Everything should be the way it used to be. You’re back at the palace with Zuko and Azula and Mai and Ty Lee. You’re praised as a war hero. Your father is even proud of you. But it all just feels… wrong. 

Zuko is jumpier than usual, and he’s not half as angry as you about this farce of an engagement. Azula treats you more like a subject than a friend, your sparring sessions together more of a demand than anything. The servants cower in the shadows when you walk through the halls, if you’re even able to catch them at all, and they seem ridiculously shocked when you treat them with basic kindness. 

You don’t even get to sleep in your old room because you’re soon to be part of the royal family. The mattress is too soft and the sheets are too stiff, and your body aches at night from being tense the entire day. Even the fruit tarts crumble to sand in your mouth. 

Someone says your name and you flinch so hard you nearly bang your head against the tree you’re resting against—the servant you turn to looks terrified as she bows. 

“I apologize immensely for the scare, my lady,” she says. “I— I was sent to fetch you. Prince Zuko and the painter are both waiting in the library for you.”

You have to bite back a groan. The reason you came out here was to avoid the stupid portrait session, but it turns out the whole palace doesn’t automatically forget you exist because you’re late. 

“Are you sure I can’t just fake my death to get out of it?” 

Her eyes widen slightly as she freezes, and you glance away. What has the Fire Lord done in these years to make these servants so afraid?

“I’m only joking,” you assure as you stand up. “I’ll be right there. Thank you.”

“Of course, my lady,” she says, nodding far too many times before she hurries off. 

You take a deep breath in, then let it out slowly. A turtleduck looks at you from the pond and your shoulders sag. 

“I wish I could be down there with you, little guy.”

-

You drag your feet the whole way to the library, choosing to take as many twists and turns as possible to delay the inevitable. When you finally make it, Zuko is arguing with the artist.

“—commanded you to do this, and you will listen!” 

“I have a very busy schedule that your lady friend has messed up!” 

“Well, clear it! You are a citizen of the Fire Nation, and you live to serve the Fire Lord!” 

You clear your throat as you cross your arms, and Zuko flushes bright red when he sees you. “You’re late.” 

“I got lost,” you say. 

“In the palace?” 

You shrug. “It’s big.” 

Zuko huffs then turns back to the artist. “She’s here now. Can we start?” 

The man rolls his eyes, but pushes his glasses back up as he sits down at his easel and empty canvas. Zuko walks over to you, and offers his hand, and you reluctantly take it to let him lead you over to your spots. 

“I was worried about you,” he says. 

You frown. “I was a few minutes late.”

“Try an hour.”

“I told you I got lost,” you say, and Zuko huffs again—but then he pauses.

“Why aren’t you wearing the new pin?”

Your brows furrow deeper and you resist the urge to touch your topknot. One of the Fire Lord’s advisors gifted you a new pin and flame to tie up your hair as an early wedding present, one that matches Zuko and Azula’s, but you shoved it in a random dresser drawer the first chance you got. 

“I didn’t feel like it,” you finally say. 

“You didn’t f—” Zuko stops and takes a deep breath and lets it out, then smiles at you. “Why not?” 

“Because I like the old one,” you say defensively. “It was a gift from you, not a random Fire Nation noble.” 

“It was a wedding gift,” he says lightly. “We need to match in our official portrait.” 

“I don’t want to wear it,” you insist. “Why is it such a problem?” 

“Because this needs to be perfect!” he snaps, and you flinch before you can help it. “My father finally trusts me again, and I’m not going to let you mess it up!” 

You stare at him petulantly, but you have to ball your hands into fists to hide the shaking. “Don’t talk to me like that.” 

Zuko blinks, and then something shifts in his entire demeanor as he nods. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I— I don’t know what got into me.” 

“Thank you,” you say, but you can’t meet his eyes for too long as you turn back to the artist. “I apologize for my tardiness. I will ensure you get paid for every second I have delayed you.” 

The man sniffs haughtily, but you see some glint of appreciation in his eyes. “At least somebody in this city knows how to treat true artists.” 

Zuko rolls his eyes, and you actually manage to smile as you sit down. Zuko rests his hand on the back of your chair, but the painter shakes his head. 

“The future Fire Lord must be stoic and imposing, long may he reign, capable of standing on his own. The Fire Lady is just a lovely accessory.”

You immediately shoot up from your seat with fire in your eyes. You immediately regret your kindness. “What did you just say?”

Zuko whispers your name urgently and you reluctantly sit down, but your angry gaze doesn’t soften. 

“What did you say your name was?” you ask. 

“…Eisaku, my lady.”

“Do you paint many portraits, Eisaku?”

“I do. The nobility hires me most often.”

You hum. “Then I am sure the nobility would love to hear how their favored artist so casually disrespects the royal family. This could be classified as treason.”

He has the nerve to look away from you. “Prince Zuko—”

“Do not look at him when I am speaking to you,” you snap, and he bows his head with wide eyes. 

“I submit my deepest apologies to my lady,” he rushes. “I deserve a thousand lashes, to be thrown atop a thousand mountain peaks, to—”

“Shut up,” you say, and he immediately stops, still unable to look at you. “If you disrespect me again, I will make sure you never take another step in this city. Test me again and I will ensure you are never able to paint again. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Good. Now let’s get this over with.”

He listens this time, immediately starting to sketch an outline. You feel Zuko’s eyes on you, likely wondering what’s gotten into you, but you can’t bring yourself to meet them.

-

You get a break after a few hours of posing, and you practically run out of there, Zuko on your heels as he calls your name. You don’t stop until you’re out of the palace and back into the gardens, and Zuko nearly barrels into you as he skids to a stop. 

“What was that?” he questions with wide eyes.

“What was what?” 

“At the start!” he exclaims. “Why were you treating the painter like that?” 

“You’re asking me?” you marvel. “I heard you tell him that he has to do whatever you want because your dad is the Fire Lord.” 

“That’s different.” 

“How?”

“Because I was already annoyed by you being late, and then he started talking about leaving before we’ve even started—” Zuko shakes his head then looks back at you. “You don’t act like that. Azula, sure, but not you.”

You shrug. “Maybe I’ve changed. Maybe I’m finally the kind of girl that belongs here.” 

Zuko stares at you, but when you don’t waver, he sighs and calls over a servant. 

“Please bring us whatever we’ve got available in the kitchens. We would like to take lunch in the gardens today.” 

He nods and hurries off, and Zuko sits down against the tree. You stay standing, and a few beats of silence pass before he speaks. 

“This used to be my favorite place in the whole city when I was a kid,” he says, running his fingers through the grass. “The palace walls felt oppressive, and my father preferred not to see or hear me, so I spent way too much time out here watching the turtleducks hoping no one would notice I was missing.” 

Your lips twitch up. “I like it too. It’s so calm compared to the rest of this place.”

Zuko smiles at you, but you don’t as you take a seat beside him and lean closer. 

“Enough reminiscing. We need a game plan.” 

He frowns. “What?” 

“Our plan to get out of this!” you exclaim. “We’re engaged again, and your father is going to destroy the world. I’m fine to start figuring out either one.”

Zuko pauses, then he huffs a laugh. “I don’t think you’re in your right mind.” 

You stare at him. “I hope you’re joking.” 

“Why would I be joking?” 

Your jaw clenches and you plant your hands on the grass to move closer, your eyes darting around to make sure you’re truly alone before you lower your voice. “Because we’re engaged again and your father is going to destroy the world, and you don’t think we need a plan to fix either of them.”

“He’s not going to destroy the world.”

“You can’t possibly think that.”

“Look,” Zuko says harshly, “I’m finally living the life that I have killed myself for—the life I’m destined for. I’m the crown prince. My father is finally proud of me again!” 

“Your father is a warmongering maniac!” you whisper-yell, and Zuko’s gaze sharpens. 

“Watch your mouth.” 

“No,” you say, “no, I’m not going to watch my mouth. In case you’ve forgotten, we’re equals.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the crown prince. You can’t talk to me like that.” 

“What is wrong with you?” you marvel. “Back in Ba Sing Se, you were so content—” 

“Because I didn’t think I would ever get the chance to come home,” Zuko snaps. “You’re my fiancee and my friend— why aren’t you happy for me?” 

“I’m not your fiancee,” you say stiffly. 

“Well, what do you think is going to happen once summer ends?” he questions. “You can’t just say no to my father. I think I’m a pretty good example of what happens if you try.” 

Your eyes drop to the ground as you shake your head. A few weeks ago, you were serving tea together and joking about how much you hate the world. He's trying so hard, but he’s nothing more than a poor replica of the Fire Lord—and you know his head must be growing heavy from the weight of the crown. 

“Please,” Zuko begs, and he lowers his head trying to meet your gaze, “don’t be this way. As long as we're betrothed, I can protect you.” 

You shake your head again as you rise on shaky legs, unable to even look at him. 

“I don’t want your protection,” you spit. Zuko calls your name as you go, but you can’t leave quickly enough. 

-

If you weren’t at the palace gardens as a child, you were here, venting your frustration and scorching the earth. Now, you certainly have some anger festering inside you to take care of. 

The Fire Lord wants to control you, Zuko wants you to be someone you’re not, Azula is going to push you until you break, your father is proud of you for something you didn’t even do. Sokka hates you, the Avatar is dead, Ba Sing Se has fallen, you did absolutely nothing to stop it. 

You punch and kick and flip and twist until your vision goes red, until your fists are smoldering and you’re nearly doubled over heaving labored breaths. No matter how good you are, you will never be as good as Azula. You will never be as good as your father. You will never ever ever be enough. 

“Trouble in paradise?” 

You exhale steam as your spine straightens, but your shoulders still rise and fall from the exertion as Azula stares you down from the stairs. You don’t know what she gets out of your torment. 

“It’s far from paradise,” you manage.

She shrugs as she starts walking towards you. “I don’t know why you’re not more excited. Thousands of girls in the Fire Nation would kill to be in your shoes. You’re practically royalty now.” 

You’ve never wanted to be royalty. It was your father’s promotion, not your own achievements that got you in the palace in the first place, and your too-hot temper that drew Azula’s eye. If you had it your way, you’d still be running rampant through the woods and sparring with your brothers. 

“I’m very thankful for this opportunity,” you say lightly, and Azula doesn’t even pretend to believe you. 

“What did my brother do now?” she asks. 

“He didn’t do anything.” 

“Oh, please. I know that look. I used to be the cause of it all the time when we were kids.” 

You roll your eyes as you brush some ashes off your shoulder. “It’s not something you need to worry about, Azula.”

“You’ll tell me soon enough,” she says, then she tilts her head. “But that’s neither here nor there. You need to go clean up. We’re meeting Mai and Ty Lee at the harbor within the hour.” 

You frown. You haven’t seen your friends since you got back to the Fire Nation, and a part of you is dreading seeing Mai again now that you and Zuko are engaged. They looked so happy on the ship together—or as happy as either of them can look—and now you’ve just gone and messed everything up. 

“Where are we going?” 

“Ember Island,” she says wryly. “Father is meeting with his advisors all weekend and he has requested solitude.”

“So we’re being shipped off on vacation like incompetent children.” 

“Zuko said the same thing,” she muses. “I suppose his anger at the world is rubbing off on you.”

You roll your eyes. “My anger is entirely my own.”

“I’m sure.” 

Azula turns on her heel and leaves, and fire shoots out the bottom of your hands as you ball them into fists and hurry after her. 

-

“This is boring,” Mai grumbles. 

You sigh as you watch children racing around the beach, playing in the water, and building sandcastles that Azula hasn’t gotten the chance to destroy yet. That was you and your friends just a few years ago, before you all became weapons to support the Fire Nation. You don’t remember the last time you just got to relax. Even now, your shoulders are nearly up to your ears. 

“I don’t know,” you say. “I think it’s kind of nice.” 

“You’re telling me after everything you’ve trained for, and everything we’ve helped Azula with, you’re content with just sitting around doing nothing?” 

“Even elite warriors need days off, Mai.”

She rolls her eyes and slumps further into her chair. “I don’t know why you’re over here. You should be on top of the world right now.”

You wince. This is what you’ve been so afraid of. “Mai, you need to know I didn’t ask for this. The Fire Lord threw it on us without any warning.” 

“I know,” she says, calmer than you expect. “You’ll make a good Fire Lady.” 

“I don’t plan on letting it get that far,” you say lightly. “I know you and Zuko were reconnecting. I’m not going to get in the way of that. You can do whatever you want together.” 

“How kind,” Mai deadpans, and you sigh. 

“I won’t let this go through,” you insist. “Just… give me some time to figure something out.”

“I’m sure you’ll have no problem going against the Fire Lord’s will.”

“Your faith in me is inspiring.”

“Just stop looking so sad,” Mai says. “I know you don’t want to be here, but you can’t make it this obvious.” 

Your eyes widen slightly as you look back at her. “Mai—”

“You’re still my friend, and I still care about you. I’m not going to let Zuko get in the way of that.” 

You smile. “...Thank you. I care about you too.”

Mai rolls her eyes, which is the equivalent of a smile. Zuko comes back with two ice cream cones in his hand, and he holds one out to Mai. 

“I got this for you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s so hot, I thought it would be refreshing.” 

The scoop falls on her lap and Zuko grimaces. 

“Thanks,” Mai says wryly. “This is really refreshing.” 

“I’ll leave you two alone,” you say, pulling your cover-up tighter around yourself to make sure your back is hidden. Ty Lee insisted you had to wear that super cute red two piece that makes you look so good, and you guess it's cute, you don’t really feel like being an eyesore today. 

Ty Lee is laying on a towel with a group of men surrounding her, one blocking the sun and two others fanning her. You chuckle as you walk over and cross your arms. 

“Alright, boys,” you say, “party’s over.” 

They stare at you blankly, but when Ty Lee nods and shoos them off, they reluctantly walk away. You raise your eyebrows. 

“Less than an hour at the beach and you’ve already got your own entourage?”

“All the boys here are really nice!” she exclaims.

“I think they’re all just in love with you,” you say, and Ty Lee shrugs. 

“It’s a nice change of pace,” she says. “Besides, it’s not my fault they’ll do anything I say.” She smiles up at you. “What’s up?” 

“Oh, nothing,” you say breezily, and Ty Lee scoots over on her towel so you can sit beside her. “Just watching my life fall apart in front of me.”

Ty Lee frowns. “I heard about the engagement. I’m so sorry.”

“You know, you’re the first person not to tell me I should be happy.”

“Well, you don’t like Zuko, right? You like that Water Tribe boy.”

Your face heats inexplicably as you hit her shoulder. “Don’t say that so loud!”

“Because it’s true?” she teases with a grin.

“Because it’s not,” you say as gently as possible, “and I don’t want you putting that idea into anyone’s head.”

“Fine,” she says, but her smile only grows. “If you tell me what you talked about in the marketplace, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Ty Lee—”

“I know, I know! But I have six sisters, and I never broke any promises they told me. You know I’m trustworthy.” Her eyes soften and you know what she really means—she won’t rat you out to Azula. 

“…He flirted with me. That’s how we ran into each other. He came up to me and said my eyes were pretty, but he freaked out once he recognized me.”

Ty Lee squeals as she rocks you back and forth by the shoulders so hard you get dizzy. 

“I knew he liked you back!” she exclaims. “Oh, I knew by the way you fought each other! It was like dancing!”

“He can’t like me back if I don’t like him in the first place,” you insist, finally getting her to let you go. “And lower your voice!”

“I’m sorry! It’s just so exciting! I mean, the only boy you’ve ever been involved with is Zuko and you don’t even like him—”

“And I don’t like Sokka either,” you interrupt. "That's a very important part of it."

“Ladies! Over here!”

Your heads both snap over to where Azula standing on the edge of netted court, and you actually smile as you and Ty Lee walk over, quickly joined by Zuko and Mai. If there’s one thing you can do today, it’s destroy some pompous teenagers in kuai ball. 

-

You win in a very fiery display that nearly destroys the court and the net and ruins everyone’s fun. But it turns out after actually fighting for your life for the past few months, sports don’t really do it for you anymore. 

But after two impressively haughty boys invite Ty Lee, you and Mai to a party—and later the rest of them when Azula asks very nicely, because he somehow doesn’t recognize the two most important teenagers in the Fire Nation—you leave the beach early to get ready. 

Mai is lining her eyes sharp enough to kill as you brush out Azula’s hair, and Ty Lee is kneeling in front of the mirror braiding her hair. Zuko got ready in about five minutes and has now resorted to sulking against the wall. 

“You should wear your hair down like this more often, Azula. It suits you.”

“A topknot suits me far better,” she says tartly, though her shoulders relax a bit. “…But thank you.”

“Any time."

“Why are we even going to this stupid thing?” Zuko complains. “Those idiots already disrespected us once. We shouldn’t reward them by going to their party.”

“Come on, Zuko, it’ll be fun!” Ty Lee exclaims. “It’s been so long since we’ve gotten to do something normal together.”

“Yeah,” you say. “In a few days, you can go back to stomping around the palace.”

He scoffs. “I’m doing another lap around the house. You all better be ready before I get back.” 

He slams the door when he leaves and you roll your eyes. “Such a temper.”

“I truly don’t know what you see in my brother, Mai.”

“Of course you don’t. You’re related.”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me.”

You chuckle as you tie a portion of her hair into a small ponytail, then smooth out the rest so it falls down her back. “You’re good to go, Azula.”

She looks in the mirror and her eyes widen slightly before she clears her throat. “It’s adequate for a party like this.”

You still smile, because in Azula’s words that’s akin to a shower of compliments. You don’t think she gets to feel pretty like this very often.

And yet you still feel sick. You’re sitting around here with your friends laughing and getting ready like everything is normal, but it’s not. 

You turned your back on them, and would have betrayed them even more if Azula didn’t threaten to murder Sokka. She’s the one that suggested an engagement she knows you don’t want—and you’re just sitting here doing her hair like it never happened. 

You only snap out of it when Mai says your name loud enough to break through your haze and you look up at her. 

“What?”

“Do you want me to do your makeup or not?”

-

You feel wildly out of place in this party, from your uncomfortably fancy clothes to the uncomfortably rich kids who have never worked a day in their lives. Sure, the five of you are uncomfortably rich, but you've all trained from the second you were born. You don't think half these kids could beat an toddler in an Agni Kai.

Even still, all you can think about is Sokka’s story, how his tribe was practically decimated from Fire Nation raids—how he’s the only warrior left in his village after his mother was killed and the men were forced to go off to war. 

The world is slowly dying of a poison your people, your family created, and here you are on vacation on a resort island surrounded by endlessly hideous displays of opulence. 

It’s like you’ve been asleep your entire life, and now that you’ve been jarred awake you can’t go back down. 

You refuse to. 

There’s a sharp jab in your side and you come back into yourself to see Ty Lee saying your name. 

“Come on, you have to pay attention! Those boys have been looking at you this whole time— oh, oh they’re coming over now!”

You groan. “Not interested.”

Ty Lee grabs your arm before you can leave and you don’t even try to look welcoming as two boys stop in front of you. One’s tall and slim with an easy smile, and the other is a little more filled out with toned arms that he clearly wants to show off. 

“Hey,” the strong one says, barely even passing a cursory glance at you as he grins, “it’s Ty Lee, right?”

“It is!” she exclaims. “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess,” he says. “Do you think you can guess mine?”

You couldn’t roll your eyes harder if you tried. The boy in front of you turns the full force of that charming smile on you and tilts his head towards the buffet. 

“Want to get some food? I heard the potstickers are incredible.”

You know he’s just trying to get you away from Ty Lee so his friend can try a move on her, but you honestly don’t care. You’re starving, and Ty Lee could take down this entire party with her chi-blocking if she had to. 

“I’ll see you later,” you say, touching her arm, and she nods with a grin. You hope she doesn’t expect you to get anywhere with this guy, because you’re incredibly uninterested. 

You start walking over to the tables together, and he immediately starts running his mouth. 

“So, what brings you here tonight?”

“I know you’re just with me so your friend can talk to Ty Lee,” you say flatly, spooning some berries onto your plate. “We don’t have to make it believable.”

“That’s not true,” he says. When you give him an unimpressed look, he chuckles. “I mean, yeah, my friend is into your friend, but I’m into you. You’re seriously hot.”

“Is that a firebender joke?”

“It’s a sincere compliment,” he says wryly, and you glance away as your face heats. “I’m Hiro.” 

You glance back at the table and he leans down with you. “It’s fine if you’re not much of a talker. I can handle the conversation for both of us.”

“So you’re just going to talk to yourself the whole time?”

He shrugs. “My sister hates me and my dad’s been fighting this war since I was a kid. I’ve gotten pretty good at it.”

Your brows crease. “That’s the first interesting thing you’ve said.”

Hiro laughs. “Well, if I knew you were interested in my pain, I would’ve led with that.”

“That’s not what I mean,” you say, and he continues to walk with you as you go over to a quiet corner. “My brother’s in the Navy, and I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen him since he became a captain."

“I guess we already have something in common,” he says with a smile. “Are you gonna enlist?”

“I would be seasick every day for the rest of my life,” you frown. “I had my heart set on the army, but…”

“But what?”

“But now I’m not so sure,” you admit, and you wonder why you’re telling this total stranger something you’ve barely been able to admit to yourself. 

“You should go for it. I can feel it in my heart that you’d make a great warrior…”

He’s obviously fishing for your name, and you decide to throw him a bone and give it to him—but when you do, his face falls. 

“Oh, no. You’re Prince Zuko’s girlfriend.”

The words make you want to hurl, but instead you just shake your head. “What? No, I’m not. Why would you say that?”

“Because the entire capital city got invitations to the wedding,” he says with a frown. “And he’s looking at you right now.” 

You turn to see Zuko watching you across the room, and you give him a murderous look. He holds up his hands in defense and goes back to talking with Mai on the couch, and you huff a sigh.

“We’re not together,” you say. “We’re just betrothed.”

“…That sounds like the same thing.”

“It’s not.”

“Does that mean I can flirt with you without getting a fireball to the face?” Hiro asks. 

“Absolutely,” you say. “And if he tries, I’m a lot stronger than him.” 

“You’re stronger than the prince of the Fire Nation?”

“You’d better believe it,” you say. “But don’t tell anyone who we are, or you’ll get to experience it. I think this is the first time he and his sister haven’t been recognized somewhere like this.”

He grins. “Your wish is my command, your majesty.”

You roll your eyes but you can’t fully bite back your smile. Maybe meaningless drivel isn’t the worst way to spend your night when it’s with a pretty boy. 

-

For some reason, you end up spilling your guts to Hiro.

You tell him all your doubts (except for the treasonous parts) and about your mission with Azula (except for the treasonous parts), and in turn he makes you privy to a childhood that sounds even lonelier than yours was. 

You’re never going to see this boy again, so maybe that’s why. He has no preconceived notions about you, he just thinks you’re pretty. Just like Sokka did that day at the marketplace. 

It’s truly a mystery why your thoughts keep going back to Sokka. After what Zuko and Azula did, he will never forgive you for going along with them. It’ll be a miracle if you ever see him again.

But your inner turmoil is interrupted when you hear Ty Lee yell your name across the room and you wince. 

“You’ve got some dedicated friends,” he says. 

“Don’t get me started.”

Ty Lee and Mai break through the crowd of people and she immediately starts tugging you by the arm. 

“Come on,” Ty Lee urges. “We have to go!”

You throw your hand up in a half-hearted wave that Hiro returns, and you twist around so you can look between at her again. 

“Why? I’m finally starting to not hate this party.”

“Zuko was an idiot and got kicked out,” Mai grumbles. “Every time I think things are going well with him, he has to go and ruin everything.”

You sigh. Zuko’s temper is going to be the death of him.

You find Zuko and Azula on their way to the beach, and soon you’re all sitting around a bonfire on the beach that Zuko started with an old portrait of the royal family, wondering how this night went so wrong. 

Even now, when your friends are fighting and insulting and pushing each other’s buttons until they break, all you can offer is half-hearted protests trying to get them to stop. Maybe all you’re good for is fighting. Maybe it’s the mistake of your life to think you can ever be good. 

You’re jarred out of your thoughts when Zuko yells, and you recoil instantly when the fire erupts. It’s too close, too hot, too angry and for a split second you’re back home—bedridden for days, drifting in and out of feverish nightmares, feeling like the smallest person in the world. It takes Azula saying your name to break out of your haze. 

“What’s gotten into you?” she questions. 

“Yeah,” Ty Lee says with a frown. “Are you okay?” 

“Of course she’s not,” Zuko huffs as he drops to the ground, crossing his legs. “She’s engaged to me, which is apparently the worst thing in the world.”

“Don’t be so self-centered,” you scoff. “Not everything’s about you, Zuko.”

“Then what is it about?” Mai asks. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“You have to,” Azula says. “You don’t get to keep your secrets when we’ve all spilled ours.”

You expect that usual sharp glint in her eye, but she looks much more genuine than you expect. She truly wants to know why you’re not doing well—beyond the obvious, at least. 

"I don't have secrets."

"If you're going to lie, at least make it believable," Mai says.

"We're here for you!" Ty Lee adds.

“...I just feel so alone,” you admit quietly. 

“You’re with all of us,” Zuko scoffs. “How can you possibly feel alone?”

“Because I still feel like I’m not even here!” you exclaim. “I mean, all my life, I have been doing what other people want. I pushed myself in firebending because my father demanded it. I trained with a sword because mastering firebending wasn’t good enough for him. I stayed at the palace because the Fire Lord demanded it, I went back to my father’s camp because he demanded it, and I even went on your stupid Avatar hunt because you demanded it, Azula! I have never, ever done a single thing for myself, and the second I tried to I just ended right back where I started! I’m so sick and tired of living for everyone but myself!” 

Angry tears pool in your eyes as your voice breaks, your last few shouts echoing off the rock walls surrounding you. You didn’t mean to go so far, to insult Azula and her mission and worst of all the Fire Lord, but to your surprise, Azula only tilts her head. 

“It’s about time you stood up for yourself.” 

You sniff and wipe the tears that break through off your cheeks, but the few you miss splatter onto the sand as you cross your arms and lean forward until they rest on your legs. 

“You’re more powerful than your dad now anyways,” Mai says. “Just challenge him to an Agni Kai and prove it.” 

“I’m not challenging my father to an Agni Kai.” Inadvertently, your eyes flick over to Zuko and he looks away. 

“You should,” Azula says. “You’d win.” 

“Whatever,” you mutter. 

Ty Lee bounds over and pulls you into a hug, and you slowly wrap your arms around her. 

“You’re not alone,” she says, pulling back so she can look you in the eye. “We’ll always be here for you.” 

You smile weakly. If they knew the doubts that festered in your mind like an open wound, they would never forgive you. 

“Thanks, Ty Lee. You’re the best.” 

She grins, and then it turns slightly mischievous. “I mean, you’re clearly not alone. That boy was flirting with you all night!” 

Azula’s eyebrows rise. “You’re cheating on my brother?” 

“Wait,” Zuko says with barely restrained mirth, “you’re cheating on me?” 

“Well, you’re cheating on me with Mai,” you say, as you look over at her. “I saw you two getting cuddly on that chaise.” 

She grimaces. “Don’t ever say that again.”

“Which one? Cuddly, or chaise, or you and Zuko getting cuddly on a chaise?” 

Mai groans and stands up. “I’m going back to the house.”

“No, wait!” Ty Lee exclaims. “You can get cuddly with Zuko in the sand too! The fire’s still warm!” 

“I hate you all.” 

Ty Lee continues terrorizing Mai as she chases her up the hill, and Azula actually cracks a smile. 

“I’m going back to the house,” Zuko grumbles. “You girls are crazy.” 

“See you soon,” you say, and he nods as he starts walking back up to the house. You feel Azula’s gaze on you instantly, and you brace for impact. 

“I didn’t know you felt that way,” she says instead. 

You meet her eyes, molten gold in the fire light. “Don’t lie.” 

“I’m not,” she insists. “You used to never shut up about becoming a great soldier and making your family proud and being the best firebender in the world. You were the first person to come to mind when I wanted to put a team together.” 

“We’re not kids anymore,” you say. “I’ve grown up.”

“So you’re telling me if I asked you to go on another mission with me, you would say no?” 

You hate how Azula can stare right into your soul. She peels back all the layers of your skin until she gets to your psyche, most of the twists formed by her words. 

“I just need a break,” you say. “It was my first time leaving the Fire Nation, and it was just… a lot.” 

“The reason I push you is because you turn into something beautiful under pressure,” Azula says. “You bend, but you never break. I push and you push back.” 

“Well, maybe I’m tired of pushing.”

Normally, you’re never this brazen with Azula. You love her, she loves you, you’re best friends—but she is still the Fire Princess, and she is still your superior. She doesn’t even need to lift a finger to tear your life to shreds any time she desires. 

But she doesn’t. And maybe that’s a form of love on its own—having all the power in the world, but never using it to hurt you. 

She’s silent for a moment, both of you watching the other but never moving. Eventually, she sighs. 

“Your father said he would arrange a night together with you and your Navy brother once he returned from Ba Sing Se. Correct?” 

You frown, not really sure what this has to do with anything, but nod anyways. 

“As a reward for such excellent work, I will pull a few strings and ensure your father returns within the week.”

Your eyes widen slightly, your spine straightening immediately. “Are you serious?” 

“Always.” Her gaze drops for a moment before it meets yours again. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. I’m only sorry it took you leaving for me to realize it.” 

Your throat closes up. All you’ve thought about since getting here was how you could leave again. Every time you think about betraying Azula, she sends you into the depths of guilt and makes it impossible to even consider.

She’s always two steps ahead of you. She has to know. But when you look in her eyes, you can’t sense any hint of deceit. For some reason, that makes it all worse. 

You swallow the doubt in your throat and press your shaking hands into your skirt. “Thank you. You’re my best friend too.” 

“Don’t you think it’s important that we—”

“I don’t want to talk!”

“We need to!”

He catches up to you right as you round a corner and spreads his arms to block you. 

“Seriously?”

“We need to talk,” Zuko says as you cross your arms. “You can’t just run away from it.”

“Why not?”

“Because a betrothal isn’t something you can run away from.”

Your face heats as you look away. You kept your composure well enough when Prince Ozai and your father told you and Zuko that you would marry once you were of age, but now that it’s just you and your betrothed, you want to run away and never look back. “I don’t understand why it’s me.”

“Your father was just promoted to general,” he says. “That’s probably why.”

“Is that why I’ve been here so often?” you question. “Not because of my talent, but because I’m just the best person to marry you off to?”

Zuko flushes. You think he’s handsome, sure. He has golden eyes and a bright smile and a kindness that is rare in Caldera City—but that doesn’t mean you want to marry him. 

Honestly, you don’t even like being at the palace that much. You miss your father’s training camp in the middle of the woods, where you could play by the stream and spar with your brothers before it actually meant something—before your firebending became your whole life. 

Zuko is one of your best friends, but you don’t know why your father thinks that means you want to marry him. You think Azula is just as pretty as Zuko and you don’t want to marry her. 

“You’re an incredible firebender,” he says. “I hear my grandfather talking about you and Azula the same way.”

“Really?” you ask, perking up. 

“Really,” he nods.

“…Good,” you say. “At least I’m not a complete fraud.”

“You’re not a fraud at all,” he insists. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you as soon as I found out. My mother said I shouldn’t.”

“It’s okay,” you sigh as your gaze drops to the floor. “It’s nothing against you, I promise. It’s just… so sudden.” 

“Maybe this could make it better,” he says. “Mother helped me pick it out for you.” 

You look up to see he’s holding out a pin with a small flame, the sort that you use to hold your topknot up. It’s a beautiful polished gold, similar to the ones he and Azula wear. 

“Really?”

Zuko nods, looking slightly sheepish. “I know you don’t want to marry me, and I know you can’t refuse, but I think you’re really nice. I want to make this as easy as possible for you.”

You smile as you pick it up, tilting it in the light. “It’s beautiful.” 

“I think you are too,” he says softly, and you feel your cheeks heat. “I can put it in for you, if you want.”

You nod and take your current pin out. Your father gave it to you when you were younger, once your hair was long enough to put up, and you’ve never once changed it. You’re not really allowed to care about things like vanity.

His fingers brush your neck as he gently gathers your hair into a topknot and ties it off with his gift. 

“Okay, you can turn around now.” 

You do, and Zuko’s eyes widen. 

“Well?” you ask. “How do I look?”

“Really nice,” he stammers. “Like, really, really, really nice.”

You feel your cheeks heat and you look at the ground with a smile. 

“…I guess there are worse people to marry.” You lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, and his face flushes bright red. “Thank you, Zuko.”

-

“Wake up.”

“Five more minutes,” you grumble.

“I already gave you ten! Now wake up or I’m sending you back to Azula!”

That gets you up rather quickly. Zuko gives you a smug smile as he holds out a folded apron. 

“Welcome to your first day of honest work.”

“Is it too late for you to just throw me out on the streets?”

“As tempting as it is, yes. Now get ready and be downstairs in ten minutes. Half the dining room is already full.”

You reluctantly take the apron from Zuko and he leaves the room. Part of you wants to go back to bed, but the other part remembers that the two of them really did not have to do this for you, and you stand up with a sigh. 

Iroh told you they just got the apartment last week when they signed the lease on the tea shop, so you’re impressed how cluttered Zuko’s room has already become. But you suppose you can’t really make fun of him for it, especially when he let you have the bed last night. 

At least his face isn’t half as gaunt anymore, and his hair has grown to a decent length. Being around Iroh has always been good for him. 

You get dressed rather quickly seeing as only one other outfit would fit in your bag. You comb out your hair with your fingers, tie half of it up in a ponytail once more, then walk out to an entirely different kind of doom.

You’ve just finished tying your apron over your dress when you hear Iroh’s voice from the dining room. 

“And there she is right now!” Please, come join us!” 

You shoot him a death glare, but it does little to discourage Iroh as he brings you over to where he’s talking with a customer.

“This is my lovely niece, who has just joined us here at the Jasmine Dragon! Introduce yourself, please!”

Your eyes widen for a split second before you plaster on a smile. “Uh, yeah, I’m… Jasmine.”

The man’s eyebrows rise. “You’re named after the shop?” 

“The tea!” you exclaim, because that was so incredibly stupid but now you have to commit. “But— uh, Uncle named the shop after me. I guess I’m just that good of a niece!

You hold your too-wide smile that can’t possibly be convincing, but the customer buys it anyway. 

“Well, I’m happy to support a local family-owned business.” He drops a couple silver pieces in the tip jar and smiles at you. “I have a son your age who would love to talk with you. Maybe I’ll bring him in tomorrow.”

You nod just so he’ll go away, and you turn to Iroh once he leaves the shop.

“Why would you do that to me?” you ask stiffly. 

“Because now no one doubts that you belong here,” Iroh says with a grin. “And it is a success story! A simple tea-making family, who rose above the walls of Ba Sing Se to run their very own tea shop in the Upper Ring!” 

You hate this. You hate this so, so much.  

“Wow,” Zuko says with a wry laugh in your direction, “not even five minutes here and someone’s already throwing their son at you.”

You cross your arms. “I don’t think you can say that when you were the son thrown at me a couple years ago.”

He scoffs. “You were the one thrown at me!” 

“I don’t really remember it that way.”

“Maybe it isn’t too late to throw you out onto the streets.”

“Nephew!” Iroh yells, who is already back to brewing. “There is hot tea to run!”

His face flushes bright red as he goes over and picks up the tray—you stick your tongue out as he walks away.

“That goes for you too, Jasmine!”

-

Once your shift starts, you barely get a chance to breathe. You have absolutely no idea how Iroh made this place so popular, but you’re serving tea all through the morning rush and the lunch rush. 

Eventually, only a few people are lingering in the dining room, so Zuko starts teaching you how to brew tea the right way at Iroh’s request. He’s explaining things to you, but you’re not really listening, and somehow, he picks that up.

You feel a sharp pain in your side and look up at Zuko, who’s already staring at you. 

“What was that for?” you complain as you rub the sore spot. 

“You’re supposed to be paying attention,” Zuko says. “Have you already forgotten you work here?” 

“I wish I could,” you say. “I mean, how have you been doing this for so long? This is so…”

“Fulfilling?” 

“Humilitating,” you grumble. “Just because I don’t want to go back to the Fire Nation doesn’t mean I want to be a waitress. I’m an elite warrior! I’m one of the best firebenders in the world!” 

“And I’m a prince. But table 5 needs a refill.”

“I thought you were teaching me tea!”

“The customer always comes first,” he says. He fills a teapot with freshly brewed ginseng and holds it out with a smile. 

You huff as you take it. “Is this really all we do?”

“Pretty much.” Zuko tilts his head. “I fought a customer once, but that’s the exception.”

You groan, looking out at the nearly empty dining room. “I hate this, and I hate you.” 

“I’m sure. You have three people at table 7.”

“Is it too late for me to quit?”

“I’ve quit about fifty times, but Uncle never takes it. Now go do your job.”

And that’s how you spend the entire day—serving tea to Earth Kingdom patrons who have no idea that some of the Fire Nation’s top agents are behind it. 

You’re immensely thankful to Iroh and Zuko for letting you stay with them, but for the love of Agni, this work is beneath you. At least Azula values your skills—Iroh doesn’t even give you the best section. 

You’re quickly learning that you hate the general public, though. 

A man five times your age tells you to smile more, which makes you briefly consider exposing your firebending. 

A woman asks for lychee juice, and when you tell her that you only sell tea, she gets snippy with you. She says you’ve done it for her before, and when you tell her that you literally just opened, she demands to speak to your manager. 

On more than one occasion, customers snap at you to get your attention—one man even grabs your arm to get you to stop, but he doesn’t really like it when you superheat your skin. 

That one gets Iroh to put you on your break, especially when the man yells very loudly about his burned hand and the very rude waitress that definitely spilled hot tea on him on purpose. 

By the end of the night, you’re honestly considering going back to Azula to beg for forgiveness as you wipe down a table. 

Then Iroh says your name, and you turn around. “Yes?”

“You did very well on your first day,” he says. “Why don’t you and Zuko go get dinner together as a reward?”

“I didn’t get a reward for doing very well on my first day in the old shop,” Zuko says, but you roll your eyes. 

“Thank you, Iroh,” you say louder than Zuko, and he chuckles. 

“Zuko, be a gentleman and handle the bill.”

“Uncle— hey!”

You grab Zuko’s hand and start dragging him out of the shop. “We’ll see you later!”

“You complain about the job, you complain about the shop, but you’re perfectly fine taking my hard-earned money!”

“Like you didn’t take some from the palace before you left.”

“I didn’t really need money when I had the support of the throne,” he grumbles. “But then somebody had to go and make us fugitives.”

“That wasn’t my fault,” you say. “Azula came and picked me up after you got away.”

“You were still chasing us,” Zuko says. “The bruises I got after you tackled me only healed a few days ago.”

“It’s not my fault I’m stronger than you,” you say, and then you frown. “We’re on the same side now anyways, so does it really matter?”

“Are we?” Zuko questions. “Or are you just going to run right back to Azula the second she asks you to?”

That blows the wind right out of your sails, even if you try to hide it. “She’s not going to.”

“When did you become so delusional?” 

“Can you stop?” you ask. “I’m going through a really hard time right now, if you couldn’t tell.” 

“We’re all going through a hard time,” Zuko says. “Besides, which one of us is the fugitive?” 

You roll your eyes and continue in silence. You don’t really feel like arguing with Zuko right now—but he doesn’t get the hint. 

“I mean, you would already be halfway to the Fire Nation right now if you didn’t stop at the Jasmine Dragon. If I tried to go back home, Father would kill me where I stand.” 

“Do you have to make it a competition?” 

“It kinda is one, so yeah.” 

You stop in your tracks, and Zuko bumps into you when he doesn’t catch it quick enough. 

“What’s your problem?” he complains. 

“What’s your problem?” you snap. “I— I thought you would be happy to see me again. It’s only the second time in four years. I thought about you basically every day you were gone.” 

His brows crease, his eyes softening. This close, you can see how his scarred side has barely any movement. You can’t believe his own father did that to him. Your father might be harsh, but he’s always avoided your face. 

“…I thought about you a lot too,” he admits. “I was worried you wouldn’t be taken care of after our engagement was dissolved.”

You shrug. “I was already at my father’s camp, so I just stayed there. I went back to the palace every once in a while, but it wasn’t the same without you. I just wish you would’ve written every once in a while.”

Zuko frowns. “I did. I wrote at least one letter every few months.”

“Well, I didn’t get any,” you say. “Maybe you got the location wrong.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Maybe.”

You continue walking until you reach a night market, and you agree to each get two things so you can share then meet by the fountain. You get a pile of steamed pork buns and egg custard tarts, and Zuko brings back two steaming bowls of spicy, hand-pulled noodles along with a small box of candied orange wedges. You don’t realize how hungry you are until you start digging in, but you frown at the bowl of noodles. 

“I thought you said this was spicy!” 

“It’s supposed to be! I asked for extra spice!”

You huff. “That’s one thing the Fire Nation does right, at least. I miss having fire flakes on demand. Some of the food here is as flavorful as dirt.” 

Zuko smiles, and then it fades a bit. “Could I ask you something?” 

“Shoot.” 

“What made you leave Azula?”

You frown. “Way to go for it.” 

“You said shoot.” 

You sigh as you set down your chopsticks. “I don’t think it was one single thing. I’ve been having doubts about this mission since it started.”

“Those doubts didn’t really stop you from fighting me in the desert.” 

“Will you get over that?” you complain. “You fought me too, and you don’t see me still caught up about it.”

“Fine,” he says, but you know he’s going to hold it over you for at least a few more weeks. You roll your eyes.

“We were fighting innocent people the whole time. I mean, the Avatar’s just a kid.” Your eyes fall to the ground as you drag your shoe across the dirty tiles. “I think the first crack in everything was when she tried to kill Iroh.” 

Zuko shakes his head, and you see his jaw clench. “She almost did.”

“And I didn’t do anything about it,” you sigh. “That was what made me realize I couldn’t keep blindly following orders. I’m only sorry it took me this long.” 

“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” he says. “For whatever it’s worth.”

You smile at him. “It’s worth a lot, actually. I’m really glad we’re together again.” 

He actually manages a smile back at you. “Me too.”

You both eat some more in silence, trying each other’s surprisingly good dishes. You only wish you had some fire flakes. Mai always carried extra. 

The thought of her makes you feel a bit nauseous, and you put your bowl down. You went almost the entire day without thinking about them, mostly because all your thoughts back at the tea shop were about how much you hated your job. 

“Can I ask you something?”

Zuko smiles a bit. “Shoot.”

“...What would you do?” you ask quietly. 

“What?”

“You asked me what I would do if Azula asked me to come home.” You tilt your head to look at him, and his entire expression has hardened. “What would you do?”

Zuko sits in silence for a good few seconds as he stares down at the ground. From what gossip you overheard from your father’s soldiers, you’re pretty sure he’s been on the run since Admiral Zhao’s failed assault on the Northern Water Tribe. You can’t imagine how hard his fall from honor has been on him—after all, you’ve been working in a tea shop for one day, and you’re already considering going back to the Fire Nation. 

“I don’t know,” he finally admits. “And I hope I don’t have to find out.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, but you both know you’re lying to each other. “Me too.”

-

The rest of the night goes by smoother than it started. You get an extra order of baozi for Iroh, but after you give them over, you go right to sleep. 

Or at least, you try to. 

You figured you would conk right out, but instead you find yourself staring at the ceiling even after Zuko’s asleep on the cot beside you. You’re a little miffed that you were struggling the entire day to stay awake, but now that you have the chance, you might have to resort to counting koala sheep. 

You huff and decide to get up. You haven’t counted koala sheep since you were a kid, and you’re not about to start again now. 

The moon is high in the night sky as you peer out the window, and you use the light to carefully and quietly open the door to go down the fire escape. The absolute last thing you want to do now is wake up Zuko. 

There’s a small, fenced-in courtyard behind the tea shop, and you take a seat on the bottom steps and stare up at the stars. In Ba Sing Se, there’s so much light pollution that you have to squint to make out anything. Back at your father’s training camp, the sky was crystal clear and full of constellations. Before Lee went to join the Yuyan Archers, you used to spend hours lying in the plush grass staring at the constellations. 

Your heart pangs at the thought. You hope your brothers don’t think less of you when they find out what you’ve done. 

“Can’t sleep?” 

You look up to see Zuko standing in the doorframe, and you frown.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

He shrugs. “I couldn’t sleep either. I don’t think I’ve gotten a full night since I left the Fire Nation.”

Your lips part, but no words come out. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to formulate the right apology, something to tell Zuko how sorry you are for what he’s been through—and how sorry you are for being part of it. 

Instead, you just manage a smile. “Join me?” 

His lips twitch, and he walks down the steps to join you. You stargaze in silence for a good while, before Zuko nudges you with his elbow. 

“This reminds me of the gardens.”

You huff a laugh. “Sure. Just missing the best part, though.”

“The turtleducks,” he sighs. “When I get back to the Fire Nation, they’re the first thing I’m going to see.” 

Your eyebrows rise as you glance at him. “‘When’?”

Zuko sighs and tilts his head back, looking at the stars for a few seconds before he speaks. 

“I know we’re wanted fugitives. Logically, I can never go back. And I’m finally happy with my life here. But a small part of me still hopes that somehow, everything can go back to normal.”

“I get it,” you say softly. “It’s hard to let go of. Especially compared to the lives we have now.” 

Zuko cracks a smile. “Something tells me you don’t really like being a waitress.” 

Agni, that’s an understatement. You have never once had to smile and nod when someone less intelligent than you is lying to your face, but apparently that’s how you keep customers. They shouldn’t even be allowed to talk down to you—and certainly not to your face. You don’t know how Zuko stands it.

“Let’s just say I’ve considered going back to Azula more than once,” you say wryly, then you pause. “Not seriously, though. I doubt she’d accept me back even if I begged.” 

“I don’t know. I think she likes when people beg for her forgiveness. It puts all the power in her hands.” 

“I really picked the wrong person to betray,” you mumble. 

“You really did,” Zuko says, and he laughs when you hit him on the arm. “Actually, do you want me to teach you something?” 

“What can you possibly teach me?” you respond dryly. 

“How to redirect lightning,” he says, and your eyes widen. “It’s especially useful for people like us who Azula probably has on her electrocution list.” 

“Is that supposed to be reassuring?” 

“Not really. Want to learn?”

You do. You’re not stupid enough to think Azula won’t hurt you if she ever sets eyes on you again. Better to get a step ahead when you have the chance. 

Zuko leads you to the center of the courtyard, where you both take a long, deep breath in, then let it out slowly. 

“Uncle taught me this after the desert fight,” he says. “I kept blowing things up when I tried to summon lightning, so instead, he showed me how to redirect it.” 

“That’s further than I got,” you say wryly. “Azula beats me into the ground every time she tries to get me to learn it, but it never works. I can’t even get a spark going.” 

“Azula and Uncle are the only ones I’ve seen do it,” he says. “But that’s not the point today. Now, spread your arms.”

You do, and Zuko nods. “It’s all about the flow of energy in your body, and the energy from the lightning. You have to take it in, then turn it against your enemy. Uncle learned it from studying waterbending.” 

“So in a way, it’s the Avatar of firebending moves?” 

Zuko stares at you. “What? No. I— what?”

You cough and look away. “Move on.” 

He rolls his eyes and continues walking you through it. The chi in your body is what gives you the ability to firebend, and the source of that is in your stomach. By taking the lightning through one arm, passing it through the ‘sea of chi’ in your stomach, then letting it out through the other arm, you’re able to create a safe pathway through your body. 

“But you have to go through your stomach,” Zuko insists. “If it goes through your heart, you’ll die.”

“Great,” you say, brows furrowing as you continue going through the motions. “So in the situation of Azula trying to kill me, I have to stay calm enough to remember all this.” 

“Yeah.” You glare at him and he raises his hands. “I really don’t know what you want from me.”

You sigh and let your arms fall to your sides. “Sorry. I think I’m just cranky because I can’t sleep.”

“Welcome to the club,” Zuko says wryly. “At least you got a new move out of it, though.” 

“Yeah. Thanks for teaching me.” You scratch the back of your neck. “I know I’ve been kind of a pain to deal with.” 

“Kind of?” 

“Don’t push it.”

He smiles and gestures at the fire escape with his head. “We should probably head back. Now that you’ve had a regular shift, Uncle will want you to open the shop tomorrow morning.” 

“And what time is that?” you ask hesitantly. 

“Dawn? Or maybe a little before— all I know is that it’s still dark outside when I get up most days.” 

“...Yay.” Zuko just chuckles and starts walking back, and you follow him with a sigh.