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The discussion held between the earth kingdom heads of state went far better than expected.
The movement order for fire nation colonials in the earth kingdom to relocate back to the mainland was well received by the council, and will be effective immediately.
It’s one of the first few major decrees that Zuko had proposed with the avatar since his new reign as firelord, and it feels like he’s been holding his breath since then, expecting himself to screw up, only to have the proposal unanimously approved without even a single debate or doubt in the end.
A wave of relief washes over him and he feels like he can properly breathe again, like moving a Pai Sho tile in calculated risk, and not losing all stakes in the game.
Just a step closer in restoring peace to the world, Zuko thinks, humbling himself with his thoughts.
Aang is beaming at his side, and it’s hard to ignore.
It’s not like he’s openly gloating, even - he’s just genuinely happy with what they’ve accomplished today. This one small step to a new change.
“We make a good team,” Aang smiles unabashedly, turning to face Zuko.
Zuko looks at him, this kid whom he was so fixated on chasing before, this kid whom he used to think was the key to restoring his honour in the eyes of his father, no matter what means he would use to achieve it - it amazes Zuko at how far he has come with him; two antipodes in paths divergent from each other, yet destined to meet and merge as fate would have it in the end.
The irony of the sentence, we make a good team, that he knew his past self could never come to believe would be about them both - it rings true and proud in the air between them, it holds a conviction so sincere to the heart, Aang’s heart, that Zuko’s almost forgotten what it feels like to not have any real friends in his life till now.
“I heard the palace bath house is haunted by a drown man’s spirit,” Aang carelessly blurts out after a moment, switching from reverence to mischief as easily as shifting his bending from fire to air. “Wanna check it out?”
Zuko allows himself a wry smile.
Avatar or not, this human embodiment of light and peace, restorer of worlds, bridge of spirits - this force to be reckoned with is still, just a kid.
Their long journey to Ba Sing Se has been met with an expected night’s stay hosted in the royal palace itself, as insisted by the earth king. He wouldn’t have it any other way for his honoured guests, after everything they’ve done to help liberate his city.
The palace halls are cold and never ending with its corners and turns, and it feels like they’re walking through a maze of alabaster stone and gilded metal.
When they reach the bath house, it is as breathtaking as it is lonely.
Its ceiling is high with decorative, gold-plated brackets that are welded into its nooks, framing the area with layers of intricate craftsmanship that stuns its first time patrons in place, leaving their jaws hanging agape as they stare the room in awe. Lacquerware chests and paper folding screens line muraled walls of painted folklore in elaborate landscapes and mythical creatures fantastical and bizarre, and-
Zuko wonders just how often this extravagant room has been used by the king’s guests while the palace was bustling with the liveliness of gatherings and festivities.
Unlike how desolated it is now.
The lights haven’t been lit yet but Zuko is already on it, darting slivers of flames off his fingertips with sharp precision into the perched lamps dotting the walls in parallel array.
The water is already heated and running, its rivulets streaming in ebbs and flows that end with abrupt splashes against the walls of their confine, cutting their course short, only for their currents to surge course once more in scattered directions opposing the barriers of stone.
Aang has swiftly stripped and plummeted right in, causing splatters of water to hit against Zuko’s unguarded face.
“It’s so beautiful!” Aang hollers, his voice echoing and bouncing off the marble walls. “Spirit, are you here? I’m the avatar - the bridge between our two worlds!”
Zuko frowns, unceremoniously wiping his face down with his palm.
He shrugs off his robe and sets it aside on one of the nearby chests, now stripped down to his trunks.
When he slides in the bath, his body is pulled and welcomed into the envelope of heat.
Aang grins at him, a little too obnoxiously, and Zuko can feel another tug of a frown pulling at the sides of his mouth. “What,” he says flatly.
“We never hang out like this,” Aang beams.
Zuko hums, nonchalant. “We spent an entire day exploring an ancient ruin together and unlocked the secret to firebending.”
Aang huffs, indignant. “That’s different!”
He splashes water at Zuko’s direction, and Zuko reflexively splashes back. They go about this tussle for awhile - because honestly, when has Zuko ever not taken Aang’s bait - until Aang starts waterbending a whip of water smack into Zuko’s chest as he staggers back, hitting the edge of the bath while he’s at it.
“That’s cheating!”
Aang sticks his tongue out at him, and oh, Zuko thinks, it’s on.
He thrusts his hands down into the water, flexing his fingers as he cups and heats the currents as the pressure of his bending collides and crowds the water particles within vicinity together in accumulated, gurgling energy in his palms, dragging his arms forward in one fluid motion and breaking contact to the surface in a sudden shove at Aang’s direction as his arms shoot up high in the air, utilizing the kick in his momentum to provide just enough force to send water flying in the trajectory intended.
Aang would’ve been impressed if he wasn’t on the receiving end of the hit.
“WHH-” The shot of water chases after Aang as he scrambles to outrun - outswim - it, floundering backwards with clumsy, useless limbs that were working just fine a few seconds ago, Aang thinks, catching up to him eventually as Aang barrels front into a dive a second too late, whipping his back hard in a plunge that sends water beating off his skin in all directions. “-OAAHH!”
Aang sputters and chokes out bath water in between his strangled laughing, shooting an incredulous look at Zuko with those wide, startled eyes of his that Zuko can’t help but join in the laughter too, the sound echoing and filling the room around them in unfiltered mirth and humour and-
Something’s wrong.
A throbbing jolt shoots up Aang’s spine that sends him reeling, and Zuko hastily swims forward, catching his body without missing a beat, movements quick out of reflex at the height of panic, as his eyebrows furrow together. “Shit, shit, shit-” He curses. “Aang, what-”
Aang is flinching in a crouch that has his back arching, and that’s when Zuko catches it, just below his propped hand along his spine, the blemished mark of a burnt scar on his back that triggers and flashes a jarring memory in his mind of blue lighting and hysterical eyes behind disheveled, choppy hair.
Zuko shivers but doesn’t stop short in stupor, guiding them both to the bath’s built-in steps, sitting Aang down there.
Aang doesn’t dare lean back against the edge.
“Yeah, I-” He tries for levity. “I forgot I had that.”
Zuko feels sorry for the kid.
“I have a salve I use to treat my own wound,” he gestures to his scarred stomach given by the very same assaulter. “You stay here. I’ll go get it.”
Zuko wastes no time as he lifts himself up from the water, not even bothering to dry off despite the gust of exposed air sending pin pricks across his drenched skin as he trudges forward, single-minded.
“Hey, Zuko?” Aang calls out.
He throws his head back to meet his eyes.
“Could you grab my water pouch too, while you’re at it? It has purified water in it that I use for healing.”
Zuko nods and takes note, turning back front as he makes his way.
“So,” Aang grins despite himself. “We have matching scars.”
Zuko frowns, crossing his arms with the salve clutched in his palm while the water pouch hangs over his shoulder. “You should go ahead with your healing ritual first before applying the salve.”
“Actually! Um,” Aang starts, pulling himself out of the water to sit on the bath’s ledge. “That healing water is for you.”
Zuko’s eyes widen, and Aang brings a hand up to sheepishly rub behind his neck. “You’ll irritate the wound if the ritual is done more than once a day. I’ve already done mine in the morning, so now it’s your turn,” he shoots him an easy smile, patting the space next to him.
Zuko walks over to him, crouching down behind Aang instead of beside him as suggested.
“Hey! What are you-” Aang swings backwards.
“Stay still,” Zuko mutters, “let me tend to this first.”
“Oh, right,” Aang blurts, forgetting about the earlier incident.
Zuko uncaps the vial to smear ointment onto his middle finger, movements habitual from tending to his own injury, as he starts to work his way around the wound, rubbing the lesion in mindful circles, observing Aang’s reactions if he were to hit a sensitive spot, careful not to hurt him.
“You okay?” He breaks their comfortable silence to make sure.
“I’m okay,” Aang answers, with a lilt in his tone at the end that hints that he has something else in mind that he wants to get out. “Zuko, do you think…”
There it is.
Zuko waits, listens, swiping more salve onto his finger before continuing his ministrations on Aang’s back.
“Is your sister gonna be alright?” He asks in a small voice.
Zuko tenses up, a breath caught in his throat before steadying himself enough to slowly release it through his nostrils.
“Remember that meeting-” Aang chokes at the memory. “Right after the war, we had that meeting-”
“I know,” Zuko murmurs, raising his free hand up to rest on his trembling shoulder.
Aang doesn’t even know that he’s trembling.
“They told me if worst comes to worst, I’d have to take Azula’s bending away,” a humourless, self-deprecating laugh escapes his lips, and it’s shaky, and it’s unsteady, and the last time Zuko has seen the kid this insecure was during the days leading up to fight Ozai.
“I was so angry-” He grits. “How could they ask that of me? They think just because I’m the avatar, taking away people’s bending is the easiest thing to do - like they can just order me around to take every other war criminal’s bending away like it’s nothing - but it’s not!”
He’s yelling now and Zuko shifts to his side to face him, both hands holding onto his shoulders, trying to steady him, reassure him, calm him, even - try as he might. There are tears in his eyes but again, he does not think Aang realizes.
“Taking away Ozai’s bending was a last resort,” Aang falters, staring intently into Zuko’s eyes as he breaks. “I would never want that for anyone. I-It’s-” He stammers, closing his eyes shut as he lets out a weak exhale. “It’s dehumanizing.”
“Aang…,” is all Zuko could muster, and it’s unhelpful, and it’s feeble, and it’s pointless - because no matter what he says, he knows Aang would still be hurting.
“I felt his energy drain from him,” his voice cracks, eyes fluttering open but they’re now downcast, not meeting his. “Your father’s essence. I felt it coursing through me, like a beating heart, like a living thing-” He swallows. “I ripped it right out of him,” he cries in one harsh whisper. “I know people keep telling me it’s not the same as taking someone’s life but why…,” he’s shakily laughing again, heaving into it as his shoulders collapse, vulnerable, insecure, and aching.
He looks up at Zuko. “Why does it feel like the same thing?”
He’s searching for reprimand in Zuko’s eyes but Zuko does not deliver it.
He does not deserve anything near that.
“Aang, you did what you had to.”
Aang smiles sadly through his tears. “This power I have… I’m terrified of it.” He brings his hands up to hold on to Zuko’s, lowering them down from where they rest on his shoulders to his lap.
Zuko stares at him as all Aang’s fears reflect back to his own irises, holding him there.
And where most people would call them weaknesses, Zuko now sees them to be pure, genuine, unadulterated resolve, and it’s unyielding, and it’s unwavering and-
There is a conviction to his next words that he doesn’t expect. There is a promise his friend wishes to keep.
A vow. A pledge. He must voice it out. He needs Zuko to know.
It is now Zuko’s turn to shake, and it now Aang’s turn to steady his hands in his.
“I know Azula gave us both these scars, but no matter how dangerous she is-” Aang pauses, closing his eyes again as he takes in a breath, expression painful, creasing his youthful features and aging him older, even. “I will never inflict that on another family member of yours.”
When he opens his eyes, he finds Zuko shaking under him once more.
“I could never do that to you.”
Zuko holds his discerning gaze, and it’s intense, and it’s raw, and it’s bright with his will-
This human embodiment of light and peace, restorer of worlds, bridge of spirits - this force to be reckoned with that has knocked the breath right out of Zuko, has filled his heart with hope he so unselfishly gives-
He realizes, not just this one time, but many other times before, again and again reaffirming his own conscious revelation, every second, every minute, every day spent rebuilding the world together with him that-
Aang is not just any kid.