For a moment you wonder if he recognizes you, and you frantically start to look around for his companion and master in case he decided you’re a threat worth incinerating. But a low rumble vibrates in the dragon’s throat. And then a gentle hand squeezes your shoulder. When you meet Zuko’s eyes, his warm smile greeting you, you settle instantly, at ease. “He remembers you”, he says, guiding you closer with a careful nudge. Concurring with his master, Druk lowers his head to nuzzle against your shoulder once you’re close enough. He’s so brawny and impossibly warm. Not just his scales beneath your hands but the heat rolling off him in waves as he crouches down, smoke curling in soft spirals from his nostrils. He’s even more massive from up close, where you can see and feel his wings twitch with restless energy, claws scraping grooves into the ground.

“You used to fit in my lap”, you tell him, scratching the spot under his jaw he used to love. With no surprise he still does, since the vibration increases. He always had somewhat the manners of a cat. Behind you, Zuko huffs though his nose. “He lit your sleeve on fire”. “That happened once”. “Three times”. You ignore that and keep running a hand along the smooth red scales of his neck. “Still love when I do this, huh?”. Zuko’s expression softens at the sight. It always did when it came to Druk. Or you. And both of you in the picture melt his heart instantly. “Yeah,” he admits quietly. “He does”. Druk wasn’t the only one that grew up, you couldn’t help but notice as Zuko adjusted the saddle straps one final time before your departure. Today he traded Fire Lord’s garments for lighter traveling clothes that highlight his broad shoulders, a cloth belt wrapped around his waist. The wind whips through his hair, his headpiece still on, a shiny star in the dark firmaments of his locks, bright in the afternoon light. He promised a breathtaking view as a gift for your return, but you think he’s already giving you one.

Zuko settles into the saddle with practiced ease and extends his hand to help you up. You vault into the saddle behind him with what you hope is graceful confidence, settling your hands lightly on his shoulders. "Ok. Perfectly balanced”. “You sure you’re alright?”, he asks. You scoff. “Please, I got this”. The mere though of holding on to another part of him, being closer to that chiseled body, makes your blood run as hot as Druk’s. Zuko makes a fond sigh. His hand reaches back for a moment as he checks your harness. “Besides, I’ve known this little lizard all his life”. Druk growls in offence. “First: don’t call him that”, Zuko gripes. “And second: you're going to eat those words in about three seconds”. "I never—"

The world drops away when the dragon surges upward with a powerful beat of his wings. One second there’s safe earth beneath you and the next there’s only sky and violent wind and the terrifying realization that nothing is holding you up except an enormous flying reptile. Each downbeat rolls through the air with a deep, leathery boom, a sound halfway between a ship’s sails snapping and the muffled crack of distant thunder.

The air slams into you like a solid wall and your hands fly from Zuko's shoulders to wrap around his waist, clutching him with enough force to probably crack ribs. Your press your cheek flat against his shoulder blades, squeezing your eyes shut as the wind roars in your ears. "Oh, Spirits—!" Zuko barks out a laugh that gets lost in the wind. “Oh, shut up”, you yell over the noise in your ears. “I didn’t say anything”. “You’re thinking it”. “I’m thinking”, he shouts, putting one hand over your locked arms on him, “that maybe you should hold on tighter”. When you do so, even though with a displeased grunt, he leans back into you with a small, satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He relishes this closeness, the way you’re practically fused to his back. Every climb presses you backward. Every dive makes your stomach lurch into your throat. Until after a few moments, Druk levels out and the ride smooths into a gentle, soaring rhythm. "Still with us?", Zuko’s voice vibrates through his chest and into your cheek. Clinging to him in response, you keep your eyes shut still. "You can open your eyes now”. How does he know? "Trust me”. You crack one eye open. Then the other. And forget how to breathe.

The world stretches endlessly beneath you, The Fire Nation capital now shrinking, turning into a miniature model of red tiles and winding canals. The forests all around it are a ripple of green ocean and rivers twist through valleys like silver veins, catching the sunlight. Villages appear for only a moment — tiny clusters of chimneys and torchlight — before vanishing behind clouds.

You loosen your grip on Zuko just enough to look around properly, though one arm remains firmly around his waist. A quiet woah escapes you in a breath. You’d traveled around the world and seen your fair share of things, but never like this. Not from this angle. Everything looks softer from the sky. Bigger somehow, and smaller at the same time. Wind tears past your ears in a constant roar. It steals breath from your mouth and turns every inhale razor-cold. Sometimes Druk exhales and heat rolls back over you in waves, carrying smoke and sulfur. Zuko turns his head just enough to look at you. His eyes of molten gold catch the sunlight and he gives you a cheerful smile. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “That’s what I thought the first time too”.

Druk gives a proud trill as he soars higher, catching a warm current. When he banks, the entire horizon tilts and the earth swings sideways. You yelp, but this time not in panic. There’s now an exhilaration bubbling in your chest as you lean with the movement, following the subtle tilts of Zuko’s body. “Oh Spirits”, you laugh. “We’re flying!”. He echoes your sentiment; you can’t hear his laugh, that crystalline sound that pours from his lips from a place deep within him. But you feel the way his chest rises beneath your arms, and his shoulders bump, and something about the closeness suddenly feels easy. Natural. Once again, you rest your cheek against his back, now enjoying the view with wonder-wide eyes.

Then suddenly, Druk lets out a low, rumbling huff, folding its wings for speed and free-falling for a few second before snapping his wings open again with a deafening WHUMP. Your entire body jolts as the fall transforms back into flight. “DRUK!”, Zuko reprimands, but the dragon thrills and ignores his master’s grunts. “Sorry, he likes to show off when he has a guest”. “I didn’t know the Fire Lord offered free rides”, you say teasingly, not without a certain edge to the tone. “What? No, I don’t—”, he stammers, squirming in his seat trying to look at you. He’s cute. “Hope I’m not gonna be charged for this since it was your idea”. “There are no guests!”, he shouts, just a bit too loud, to be heard over the whirling wind. He’s a little warmer than before, even through the layers of clothes. You let a little giggle escape you. “Druk is just happy to see me, then?”. “Well, it has been quite a while. And you stopped writing”. “Didn’t know a dragon was reading my missives”. “I used them as bed-time stories”, he says drolly. You’re about to make another witty remark but he stops you, pointing at something in front of you. Clouds become physical things at this height, and Druk carries you to them. You don’t just pass through, you enter them. Mist beads against your skin and for a few second you’re surrounded by a glowing rosey-gold silence. Quickly, you burst free above the cloud layer into amber sunlight and endless sky, now slowly turning violet. The world below disappears entirely, replaced by a sea of clouds stretching farther than any ocean.

For a while you’re both quiet, taking in the view. Druk glides smoothly through the clouds now. The rhythm of his wings becomes steady beneath you, almost calming. Your hands still rest around Zuko’s middle. At one point he places his hand over yours, fingers warm and gentle as he gives one light squeeze. "You know, I like this”. "Flying?". "This." He squeezes your hand again. "Having you close. You're usually so... independent. And quite stubborn". "Watch it, Fire Lord”, you admonish, with no real edge. He chuckles. He wants to tell you that the way you're holding on to him now, like he’s the only solid thing in the world, it’s awfully nice. Instead he takes advantage of a little bump in a current to say “You can hold on tighter, if you want”.

He feels you tilt your head on his back. “I’m already holding on”. “I know”, he tries to make the sentence flow smoothly, running over the slight pitch in his voice. “Just making sure you feel secure”. You narrow your eyes and let a moment pass. “You like this”. “Flying?”, he mirrors you. “The excuse to get cuddled”. Zuko is very silent for a while. Druk lets out a happy chirp, as if agreeing. “…Maybe”, he mutters.

Hiding your flushed cheeks and merry smile on his back, you tighten your arms around him, but this time it’s not out of fright. It’s because you want to stay right here, wrapped around him, flying above a world that suddenly feels full of possibilities.

dividers by @uzmacchiato and @/saradika-graphics