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Stepping into the entrance of the Fire Nation Capital Palace, Aang’s gaze is immediately drawn to the rows of watercolor paintings lining the walls on either side of the hallway that stretches ahead of him. At the forefront is a portrait of Zuko, sitting in regal robes with hands resting on his knees and a solemn expression on his face. Across from it hangs a banner sewn with the national insignia. Both artworks are shaded in a blazing ember and nearly three stories tall. He looks around and marvels at the palace interior, its grand and imposing architecture making him feel small in comparison. Sometimes he almost forgets just who his friends are. Still musing, he is greeted by the sight of Zuko dashing towards him, crushing him into a hug the moment he turned around.
“Aang!” Pulling away, Zuko smiles at him, amber eyes softening. His features seem to have grown harder and wearier since Aang last saw him over a year ago, but just as striking. Zuko is wearing the same red robes with elaborate gold trimmings and spiked shoulders as in the painting, his hair pulled back in a neat top knot held together with the headpiece in the shape of the emblem and a crown.
“It is so good to see you, Fire Lord Zuko.” Aang beams at the familiar face. It’s been eight years since the war ended. When they were in the same place last time, Zuko was getting married to Mai and Katara was still pregnant with their first child, Bumi. These days Aang has been busy restoring the air temple ruins to how they were in his memories, working alongside the dedicated group of Air Acolytes, and has not been able to see his friends and family as often as he’d like.
“Or should I call you, Your Fieriness.” Aang teased.
“Glad to see you haven’t changed at all,” Zuko sulks, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I really appreciate you stopping by to help finalize the details for Republic City,” he continued. “The committee is in the final stages of planning and could use the Avatar’s thoughts and wisdom.”
Since it is late in the evening, Aang had hoped he would be able to catch up with his friend before turning in for the night. But Zuko was in a hurry to get to a last-minute meeting, so he is escorted instead by a palace servant to his chambers, walking past armored guards standing attention every so often.
“The Fire Lord will see you tomorrow. Have a good night, Avatar Aang.” The servant clasped his hands together, open palm against a closed fist, and bowed in respect before shutting the door behind him. Aang feels oddly bereft as he sat down on the overly large bed in the center of the room, but he is tired from the long journey from the Southern Air Temple and could use some rest. He changed from his orange shawl, yellow shirt and pants to the sleep clothes prepared for him on the bed, laid down and fell into a dreamless sleep.
~
He is up early the next morning. Aang is used to waking up at the crack of dawn since his days as a young boy, where morning meditation was an integral daily ritual for the monks at the temple. The practice helps to clear the mind, preparing one for the day, as well as teaches discipline, which he carries with him even now. Settling down on the floor beneath one of the geometric patterned windows screens in the guest suite, Aang looks around observes his surroundings. The room is decked in shades of red, as is usually the case in the Fire Nation. It is sparsely furnished with a dark, reddish brown rosewood desk, chairs, and a bed draped in wine colored curtains with columns that seem to extend to the ceiling. The walls are adorned with various motifs and tapestries that remind Aang of heat and the desert. Closing his eyes, he begins to tune out his surroundings and focus on his breathing.
The planning session is held in one of the Fire Lord’s private rooms adjacent to his main sleep quarters. Zuko likes the convenience and will usually invite his most trusted officials and generals for discussions on state matters there. Right now, they’re sitting across from each other, separated by a wide and stately wooden desk strewn with various stacks of paper, a brush holder and ink stone in one corner. Morning light streams in from the window, slanting a shadow across the desk.
“Allowing for taller construction of buildings, now that the technical constraints are vanishing, will alleviate the housing shortage and benefit the increase in commercial activity,” Zuko is saying, “But some are protesting the potential loss of light as the buildings will cast shadows over neighboring residential areas.”
Thinking of looking up and seeing steel frame instead of the open sky, and of birds that may find the height obstructive to their flight, “They are right to be wary, but we also cannot deny that without the additional vertical space, places to live and work will slowly shrink as the economy and population grows.” Aang replied, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk and hands underneath his chin, pondering the issue at hand.
“We can put forward rules regulating the height of future buildings as well as designate certain areas as residential only.” Zuko supplies, holding up the draft proposal put together by his expert advisors that is awaiting his approval.
They both mull this over. Aang looks up from the table and studies his friend. Zuko is skimming through the pages in his hands, brows furrowed and deep in thought. Aang thinks back to when they had first met many years ago, when he was just a goofy kid and Zuko was just a teenager with a chip on his shoulder and something to prove. He is proud to see his friend transform from the head strong and stubborn youth to the capable and thoughtful leader that he is today. Although he can still be too serious sometimes, Aang chuckles to himself fondly.
A strand of Zuko’s hair falls out of his top knot, covering a part of his left eye and scar, but he doesn't seem to notice. Without thinking, Aang reaches over the table to gently sweep it behind his ear, hand lightly brushing against Zuko’s cheek. Zuko snaps out of his trance at the gesture. “Thanks,” he mumbles, looking away, blushing as a pretty pink color rises to his cheeks. Aang’s heart skips a beat.
~
They decide to spar after a fruitless morning of committee meetings the next day that ended in a stall as members quarreled over the details of the regulations Zuko proposed.
“That engineer Chang Long is out of his mind to disobey my commands like that. He only cares about the technical aspects of construction but neglects the effects it would have on people and their lives. I should just replace them all with staff who listen. I am the Fire Lord, after all.” Zuko all but shouts, irritated, and punches a stream of orange red fire towards Aang. In return, Aang springs on his right hand, flips in the air and lands on his feet far away from Zuko, light as a feather and dodging the flames in the process. He shoots a gust of wind out of his left foot in a sweeping motion, attempting to knock Zuko out of balance and buying some time before his next attack comes.
Zuko is in full offensive mode as he shoots flame after flame at Aang, punching and kicking fire in his direction and slowly advancing towards him. Aang is patient as he dodges the attacks, sensing that Zuko needs to vent out his frustrations from the morning. He knows that it’s rare for his friend to find a partner that can defend himself like this, or someone who dares to use their full abilities against the Fire Lord.
Their dance continues as they weave around the open courtyard, their clothes now soaked in a thin layer of sweat. Time seems to stop as their full attention remains on each other and exhilaration fills their bodies. Aang mainly uses evasive airbending moves to avoid getting singed by fire, prolonging the back and forth. All of a sudden, they are fighting in close proximity in hand to hand combat. Zuko brings his right leg up in an overhead strike aimed at Aang’s shoulder. Aang dips his upper body to the left and blocks with his arm, pushing Zuko’s leg to the side. Zuko stumbles but rights himself, at the same time throwing a punch at Aang’s chest with his left hand. Aang shifts sideways and dodges again, turning to grab Zuko’s wrist in a firm hold, disabling any movement, and slams an elbow into Zuko’s side.
“Oof!” Zuko exclaims in surprise. As he is about to hit the ground, he feels strong hands circling his waist as he is lifted upright again. Disoriented from the sudden shift, Zuko raises his head to see Aang’s face merely inches away from his own, grey eyes unreadable. Both of them are breathing heavily, chests heaving as they catch their breaths. Zuko doesn’t know how long they stared at each other like this. He can feel the heat emanating from Aang’s body and his own heart beating faster than usual.
“I see you been practicing some new forms.” Zuko says, taking a step back and breaking the silence. “Although I still can’t believe I have to look up at you to be eye level now.” He scoffs, looking away. “Anyways, thanks for letting me blow off some steam.”
“Yeah.” Aang says, gaze on the ground, scratching his head with one hand and looking embarrassed. “I guess you just gotta grow taller next time!” He jokes, trying to lighten the heavy mood that wedged between them.
“Let’s both freshen up.” Without a second glance at Aang, Zuko turned with a swish of his robe sleeves and walked hurriedly back into the palace, rushing past guards who jump out of his way. “What’s going on with me? Get a hold of yourself Zuko.” He thought angrily at himself as he shouts for the servants.
~
“Ahh.” Aang let out a sigh of contentment. The hot water feels great surrounding his body as his muscles begin to relax and tension melts away. Leaning his head back to rest on the edge of the wooden tub, he is grateful for the privacy as he soaks in the bath that the servants kindly drew for him. Now that he is alone, he wonders if Zuko had heard the beating in his chest when they were sparring. He was so close to Zuko, his bright eyes still imprinted in his mind. Time slowed down and all coherent thought evaporated. He’ll have to mediate on that later, he thought.
When Aang walked in to the lounge room after drying himself with the cloths handed to him by the staff waiting outside the bath, he finds Zuko sitting on the floor sipping a cup of tea. It is a hot and dry summer’s day. The floor to ceiling window panes are left ajar, allowing in a gentle breeze from the outside. Aang flops down across from Zuko, pouring himself a cup of tea as well. They are so familiar with each other that conversation flows easily as they catch up on each other’s lives, the peacefulness of the early afternoon enveloping them in a calm cocoon. Aang is also in no hurry to discuss what had transpired earlier.
After a while, they ended up sprawled on the floor inelegantly, a few feet apart, soft robes loose and limbs everywhere, and trying their best to be still in an attempt to chase the heat away. They lie there like that, listening to the cicadas buzzing and leaves rustling in the breeze outside, a warm smell drifting in. Aang’s hands are behind his head as he whistles a familiar tune from his childhood. Zuko lifts himself up and grabs a hand fan from the low table next to him, but decided against exerting more energy and puts it back down instead. His robe slips as he leans against his right arm, exposing a pale shoulder. Aang peers over from his place on the floor mat. Zuko’s hair has grown past his shoulders now, untied and flowing freely in a waterfall of silky dark strands, a sharp contrast against fair, smooth skin. His muscles are well defined, and Aang can see the jagged edges of the scar matching his own peeking out on Zuko’s chest, deep red like the color of his robe. Zuko’s skin is still slightly flushed from the workout earlier and the heat of the afternoon. In this moment, he reminds Aang of a blooming rose petal, oddly erotic. He can't look away.
~
Meetings the following day went surprisingly smoothly. The seven members of the committee, headed by Zuko and joined by Aang as advisor, came to an agreement on the final details, incorporating the new rules on zoning.
It was still late morning by the time the meeting adjourned. Aang and Zuko are taking a stroll in the royal gardens while reflecting on the discussions this morning. The imperial palace complex is rectangular in shape and consists of over 500 structures covering a vast distance of land. Impenetrable walls of maroon brick surround the exterior, pierced by four golden winged gates on each side, north, south, east and west – the only ways in or out. The outer court at the southern end of the complex is reserved for ceremonial purposes, while the inner court, divided by a wide marble courtyard, contains numerous gardens and is the residence of the Fire Lord, as well as where day-to-day state affairs are conducted. They walk along the maze-like exposed corridors in the inner court that connects to various buildings and octagonal pavilions. The walkway’s roof is supported by round red pillars at even intervals, fledged by dark green, geometrically carved panels on top. If one were to look up at the ceiling, they could admire colorful paintings with scenes of the adventures of past Avatars and other legendary figures.
Stepping down from the walkway into one of the gardens, they sit down on a white stone bench beneath a centuries old willow tree. The sun shines through the rustling leaves, shadows dancing playfully on them and their surroundings. The lotus flower pond in front of the bench is bordered by rocks and tall plants. Its waters are serene, and a turtle duck family is swimming amongst the sparkling ripples on the surface. A comfortable silence settles between them as they enjoy the view. Zuko is staring at the pond, all sharp profile, delicate nose and pink lips. Distracted, Aang’s thoughts wonder far away. He almost can’t believe destiny brought them together like this, across lifetimes, allowing them to make up for past mistakes; their journeys parallels of each other’s as they grow from enemies, to allies, to best friends building a new world together. Zuko breathes out a sigh. Aang thinks he looks like a painting, beautiful and surreal.
~
Aang doesn’t see Zuko the next morning. The committee session was cancelled due to reasons that the aides refuse to tell him. After meditating in his room, Aang decides to continue his readings that he brought with him on airbending history, recorded by monks of the past and gathered by the acolytes. All these writings are relics now…he thought sadly, shaking his head. He was in the middle of poring over a scroll when Zuko walked in.
“Sorry about this morning. I heard reports that there are some rumblings among the citizens that their Fire Lord is prioritizing developing the colonies over the homeland.” He said to Aang. “I met with some of my officials to discuss our action plan, if any.”
“The Fire Nation is in an era of historic peace and rapid industrial development.” Aang answers, stroking his beard, thoughtful. “It is your duty to share this wealth and knowledge with the rest of the world, as well as take part in the rebuilding after the destruction left by the Hundred Year War. I understand their concerns, but it is unfounded.”
“I agree. But I’m not sure if the next step is to leave the sentiments alone, in case it festers.”
“Why don’t we go undercover!” Aang exclaimed, lighting up as an idea came to him. “In the past, sovereigns often disguised themselves as commoners and went on months long journeys across their land. It’s the surest way to connect with the people and understand their concerns.”
Zuko replied hesitantly, “I’m not sure that’s a good id..”
“Of course it is!” Interrupted Aang, slapping Zuko’s arm in excitement. “It’s guaranteed to make you a wiser ruler. Come on Zuko, just one night?”
Zuko can’t help but laugh at Aang’s positivity. “Alright, but just one night.”
~
They found themselves in a seedy looking establishment that very same evening.
“Looking for some entertainment for the night, gentlemen?” Greeted the heavily perfumed and plump matron, ushering them in the door and looking pointedly upstairs, where a smattering of pretty girls beckoned them from the wooden terrace.
“No thanks, we’re just here for some drinks.” Zuko said, stepping in front of Aang. He’s dressed in plain red, short sleeve robes with dark brown detailing on the sleeves and seams, eyes firm from beneath the black face covering, duo swords strapped behind his back.
She pointed them to behind her and with a wave of her hand dismissively. “I see a seat for us!” Aang yelled back, walking ahead and sitting down on a long, wooden bench. Aang is sporting similarly colored tunic and trousers with a cap covering his tattoo that reaches almost down to his eyebrows. The table is currently occupied by a sullen looking man nursing a cup, clearly already drunk.
Zuko eyes the man suspiciously but concedes, sighing, and sits down next to him. They order a rice wine each from the host behind the counter while observing the crowd, occasionally chatting to themselves and sipping their bowls. Aang is in the middle of a passionate debate with an elderly woman at the next table on the composition of an old fire nation song, ready to belt a tune, when he heard the commotion somewhere behind him.
“Say that to my face, you ugly skunk toad!” Zuko is shouting at a man sitting across from him. He somehow made it to a table at the far inner corner of the tavern without Aang realizing. The man appears to be in his early thirties, dressed in a simple reddish-brown shirt and pants that look well worn. His skin is rough and sun burnt, with a deep scar etched across his right eye.
“I said, what would a pampered little traitor prince know about our problems.” Standing up and slamming both fists on the table, the man smirked. “I don’t know what you’re hiding behind that mask, but you’re clearly not from around here, so I suggest you take your little friend over there and get out of our sight.”
Putting down his third helping of wine, Aang rushes towards them as Zuko pulls out his weapons and bears down the left sword in a diagonal slash, blocked by the man’s answering blade. His friends at the table jump into the fight at Zuko’s opening offense. Aang gets there just in time to tackle one pony-tailed man who’s aiming a pocket knife at Zuko’s back to the ground. Hurrying back up, he picks up a bowl and throws it at another coming towards him, smashing his target in the head as the bowl break into pieces, clattering on the floor. Behind him, Zuko is parrying with the others, one against three, his swords swishing and slashing in the air, steel weapons clashing in deafening clangs. A bulky looking man picks up a nearby table, flipping it and throws it at Zuko, who jumps back in time but staggers into Aang. Zuko kicks the table away in a flash of irritation. They are standing back to back now, slowly being surrounded by the menacing bunch.
“Let’s create a distraction and get out of here!” Aang whispered.
Zuko nodded. Together, they raise both of their arms, and blasts thick jets of fire in all four directions of the room. As the others duck for cover at the unexpected move, they bolt out of the front door.
“After them!” Shouts someone from behind as they run along the lantern lit streets of the capital city. They round a corner and comes into a dead end. Hearing footsteps getting closer, Aang shoots a stream of air out of his feet and cartwheels over the wall. Zuko does the same as he kicks his left foot on the wall, grabbing hold of the ledge with both hands and leaps over.
They stand side by side in the darkened alley, bent over and hands on their knees as they wipe away the cold sweat on their foreheads, having narrowly escaped without being exposed.
“Well, that was an eventful night.” Zuko huffed, dismayed at the turn of events.
They looked at each other for a moment, and burst out laughing. “Let’s do that again sometimes, but not pick any fights the next time.” Aang said mirthfully. The chase, the blood pumping in their veins, the adventure, it’s like old times again. Aang feels so alive, like they still have their whole lives ahead of them, full of possibilities. He turns to look at Zuko, whose eyes are shining, illuminated by the moonlight and the thrill of it all. Aang remembers all that they’ve been through and is overcome with emotion. Maybe the alcohol is getting to him, he thought as he leans down, lifting Zuko’s chin with one hand, and crushes his lips to his.
Shocked, Zuko froze as he stands there, mind suddenly blank. Aang can sense his own heart threatening to pound out of his chest and, finally, after an eternity, he feels Zuko respond as he wraps his arms around Aang’s shoulders and kisses him back, lips pliant and inviting. Heart swelling, Aang deepens their kiss, gripping the small of Zuko’s back with both hands and pulling him closer. The world aligns and everything feels so right.
Abruptly, Aang breaks away and drops to the ground on his knees, face in his palms as tears begin to stream down his face. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.” He is saying, horrified by what he has done. “I betrayed Katara, betrayed Mai, and put you in this position. And it’s all my fault.” He apologizes profusely, a dam broken. “But, after all these years, no matter how much all of us have changed and moved on, I always come back to you somehow, like there’s this thread of destiny connecting us both.” Wiping a hand across his eyes, he confesses. “I’m so sorry.”
Kneeling down on the ground and mirroring Aang, Zuko pulls him into a hug.
“I know.” Is all he replies as tears swell in his eyes. What he doesn’t need to say is that it will be ok, and that there will always be a hidden place in his heart for Aang.
They walk back to the palace under the cover of darkness, hand in hand, fingers intertwined.