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Chapter Text

When fire dies there is only ash. The sombered remnant of what once was, what could’ve been. Zuko had lived with the flames, died with them, and rose from the ash and yet, after all that, he still felt incomplete.

In the months after the end of the war, he’d decided to dedicate himself to his people. He wished to right his father’s wrongs, bring solace to the nation after years of suffering. Though now, nearly a year after the end of the war, he wasn’t so sure that he’d achieved that goal.

Every decision he now made was so much bigger than himself. He wasn’t just trying to defeat his father or hunt down the Avatar—he had people who depended on his decisions to survive, a whole nation of them.

Ocean waves settled at his feet, ashy seafoam crawling from the base of his ankles to the bottom of his legs. The shoreline was dark, soaking in the moonlight as it pooled against his skin, seeping through layers of weary flesh.

“Zuko?” Her voice was soft, oscillating through the air as she approached him. “You alright?”

Though he thought the evening sky was beautiful before, it was nothing without her now. He was convinced she’d been born through the stars, a collection of celestial bodies made to harness the beauty of the night sky. The moonlight against her skin, the breeze brushing at her hair. The midnight sky was missing something, missing her, and yet he would rather trade the world than see her anywhere but right here.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He smiled at her, one of those half-witted ones that crawled up the sides of his cheeks, yet never quite making it to his eyes. “Just—needed some air.”

She sighed, huffing a breath into the evening air before planting herself next to him in the sand. Layers of the shore began to cover the bottom of her robes, the same Earth Kingdom ones she’d always worn, so she held her hand in the air, pulling bits of it off of her as it spun around her fingers.

“So, what is it?” She extended her pointer, spinning the sand through the space between them in silken loops.

“What?” He raised a brow at her and for a split second, he almost thought she was going to hit him right there, leaving him to lie on the shore.

“Oh c’mon. Don’t pretend you’ve ever been able to fool me.” He laughed in response, a breath of air spilling from the edge of his mouth.

“Am I that obvious?”

“To me, at least.” She leaned into his shoulder, the sand following her as ran her fingers along the side of his arm.

It traced his hand, forming complex little polygonal shapes that he couldn’t name if he tried. With each movement, each new structure, the sand scratched against his skin in a way he could only describe as endearing—mostly because it came from her.

“I’m just—“ he sighed, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. “Worried about my people is all.” He turned to her then, suddenly the full extent of his stress displayed in front of her.

“I know,” she replied.

She reached in front of her, resting her hand against his cheek, brushing just under the bone with her thumb. Her hands were cool against burning skin, leaving specs of sand with every touch.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Zuko stared ahead for a moment before shaking his head in response.

“Do you think we could just be here for a while? Just you and me?” She smiled—one that was sweet and kind and genuine. One that never ceased to show him he was safe.

“Of course. Just you and me.”

Zuko wasn’t quite sure what made him realize it that night, but he was in love with her. The kind of love that was so sweet and so gentle that it left a syrupy feeling in his chest every time he looked at her.

Part of him knew this. Part of him had for a long time. But watching her build little sand sculptures as she sat between his legs, or listening to her breaths fade into quiet hums as she fell asleep to the sun streaking across a newborn sky nearly left him reeling.

He was still scared and tired and stressed beyond belief, but something about having her there—having her next to him—made it feel as if it would all be okay.

Chapter Text

“If you don’t get up I’m gonna have to drag you out of here.” Mako stood above the couch with his arms crossed over his chest, one brow raised over the other.

She barely gave him a glance before throwing a hand up in dismissal, groaning into the pillow under her.

“Five more minutes.“ The last word barely dragged its way out of her mouth, morphing into the pillow, but Mako knew exactly what she’d said. After all, it was the same thing she’d been saying for the last hour.

“No, no, no. Not this time.” He reached down, wrapping his fingers around the top layer of the cocoon she’d created for herself, giving it a yank.

The blanket flopped over the edge of the couch, exposing a second layer, then a third, a fourth, a fifth—

“How many of these did you use?” Mako whined, slowly revealing nearly every blanket in the apartment.

“Enough,” she replied, face still buried in the couch. At least this time she was loud enough that he could actually understand her.

“Is this one off of my bed?” He held a sheet in his hand, pulling it hard enough that he nearly took her off the couch with it.

“I figured you weren’t using it.”

Half of him wished to throw his hands in the air and leave her for Bolin to deal with, but the other half knew that doing so would leave a chance for him to come back to both of them on the couch, and god, nothing sounded worse than that.

He continued pulling at the habitat she’d created for herself, but every time he thought he was getting close to the end of the coverings, there were more. Meanwhile, she lazily rolled around in her position, attempting to either finally awaken herself or dig further into her settlement on the couch (though he wasn’t quite sure which of the two it was.)

“C’monnn,” he whined, pulling at a sheet he was almost positive he’d seen Pabu wrapped in the night prior. “I promised Tenzin you’d be at Air Temple Island an hour ago!”

“Alright, alright!” She burrowed her head into the pillow one more time before pulling out her arms, sticking them into the air. If he hadn’t known her as well as he did he would’ve been shocked by the sickening cracks of her joints as she unceremoniously rolled her way out of the cocoon, bouncing onto her feet.

She beamed up at him, exhaustion still hanging over her face. He couldn’t help but chuckle in an attempt to hide the way his heart fluttered as she stared up at him so obliviously.

She was stubborn and lazy and much too loud to be a soon-to-be-inducted airbender, but in some strange way, it made her even more endearing to him.

The last thing Mako expected after Harmonic Convergence was a call from an old friend, especially her, alerting him that she was suddenly throwing things around her apartment without even touching them.

Naturally, Mako told Korra and Korra told Tenzin and suddenly she was on his couch, waiting for the ferry to Air Temple Island to open up for the day. Okay, it was more Mako waiting for her, but that was beside the point.

She stumbled over a pile of blankets, grasping his shoulder as support as she tiptoed her way across the living room.

“Could you possibly be any slower?” There was a hint of playfulness in his voice but he tugged the inside of his bottom lip with his teeth in hopes of hiding it.

“I mean—“ She glanced around at the floor under her and began dragging her feet across the room, her socks buzzing against the carpet.

He hated that he laughed, he did. God knows it wasn’t that funny but something about the look on her face as she slid around the rug nearly made him double over. If Bolin were to make a joke like that he’d probably get an eye roll or a punch in the shoulder, but it wasn’t Bolin—it was her. It was her lopsided smile and her bouncing little balls of air between her fingers as she skated around the room.

“Hey—“ She froze in her place, cocking her head to the side. Mako stared at her for a moment, the shadow of a smile crawling up his face. She stood across the living room, still bouncing the ball around her hand while every hair on her body stood straight up from the static of the rug.

“Yeah, Mako?” Her eyes softened, her toothy grin dropping to the curve of a smile against her lips. He studied her features for a moment further before shaking his head, forcing himself back into reality.

“We should uh—we’ve gotta goin’.”

“Oh—” She swung her hand in the air, the orbs she was playing suddenly fading out of existence. “I’ll go get dressed and then we can… yeah.” She gestured towards the bathroom in a cloddish manner as she tore through her bag for her day clothes.

He watched as she entered the room and closed the door before releasing the breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding in. Seeing her after so many years was strange enough, but watching her bend? If it wasn’t for the way his chest tightened every time he looked at her, he’d think he was dreaming.

Mako wasn’t sure how her training would go after he brought her to meet the airbenders, but he could guarantee it was going to be an adventure to say the least.

Chapter Text

Zuko was convinced she could rip his heart out of his chest.

Her breaths rose and fell as she laid beside him. Her arms had wrapped around his waist, absorbing all heat from Zuko’s body she could, even in her unconscious state.

The forest sang in the night, bubbling with the cry of life through the darkness. His eyes could only follow it so far, his vision engulfed by the twisting branches that stemmed above his head.

He watched the stars dance along her cheeks as he ran his fingers through her hair. She was a reflection of the night. What hummed in the darkness, what glistered in the night—it was born from her.

She’d spoken until her thoughts died. She told him of her life and her favorite things and what she loved about the world. Alone in the forest, adorned by only the dying fire and the light of the cosmos, she had come alive.

Something bloomed from her words, vines of what once was and what soon could be blossomed from her throat, stretching to the end of the night sky.

It was only as the flames turned to ash and the creatures crooned their songs to the moon that her consciousness faded. She enveloped herself in his robes (the silken parts that remained after his armor was discarded for the night) along with his warmth as she dozed.

He sat there as her breath fanned across his chest, and considered moving. Butterflies had found a home in his stomach from the moment she’d touched him, yet he hadn’t felt such blind joy since— well he couldn’t quite remember.

He was afraid to move. If he adjusted his position would she wake up? Would she realize the position she was in? Would she watch redness crawl up his collar as she fled from his grasp?

Instead, Zuko sat awkwardly and listened to the lullaby of the forest and the pounding of his heart. The melody of his pulse threatened the strength of his rib cage, yearning to reach for the things she’d left to be swallowed by the air before falling asleep.

He attempted to swallow the lump in his throat as he stared down as her—watching her stir as the breeze bored through layers of exposed skin. He’d made his decision then, shaking her gently as he lit a flame between his fingers, illuminating the space between them.

“Do you need me to get your sleeping bag?” His voice came out as more of a choke than a whisper, half dying in his throat, leaving him with more embarrassment than he cared to admit.

“Where are you gonna sleep?” Her voice was muffled by the portion of her mouth still tucked into the side of his chest, wrapped in the material of his robes.

“I’ll be alright out here.” She shook her head in response, pushing herself up until she sat across from him. A shiver crawled up his spine as she rubbed her eyes with the base of her palms (though he couldn’t quite tell if that was induced by the crawling breeze or her presence).

“We can share,” she proposed, the shadow of a smile crawling up from the edges of her face.

She moved slowly, pulling herself off the ground and towards the bag of supplies. She tugged at the sleeping bag and placed it next to the fire, close enough that he could see her shadow move across their campsite, but far enough that the darkness had swallowed her features.

She looked back at him before crawling in, sinking as far into one side as she could. He hesitated before joining her, plodding across the camp, slipping his body into the sleeping bag. It was cramped but the heat that swirled between them fought the midnight breeze.

Their backs were pressed together as they laid on the ground and Zuko couldn’t help but hope that she couldn’t feel his pulse through his skin. He counted his breaths as he stared at the embers in the bottom of the fire.

“Goodnight, Zuko.” Her voice was small, but loud enough to power over the sounds of the night.

“Goodnight,” he replied.

She reached her hand behind her and placed it on his, giving his fingers a squeeze. Her hands were cold, but Zuko realized something about it was comforting. Something about her was comforting.

Chapter Text

Zuko loved when the world was empty.

When the palace grew quiet and his armor was long discarded, he wandered the halls in his night robes. Though the guards assumed the Firelord had a nighttime roaming habit, Zuko always knew exactly what he was looking for.

The air of the balcony was cool. Though being the Firelord called for a life consumed by heat, he couldn’t help but enjoy the cooler months. Autumn nights and winter mornings grew to be his favorites.

She leaned against the balcony, balancing her jaw on her hands, arms draped across the golden railing. Her hair fell at the sides, spilling over the edge as it reached towards the labyrinth of layers that run down the palace walls.

Zuko stood there, silent and mesmerized as he did every night, and leaned against the door of the balcony. His eyes followed her back as it rose and fell with every breath and he could’ve sworn he felt his heart spill out of his throat with his own.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Lord Zuko?” He could hear the smirk crawl up the edges of her mouth. “You know, they say it’s rude to stare.”

“Please accept my sincerest apology, Advisor.” They both laughed at the formal titles.

It was evident from the moment of his coronation (at least to those working in the palace) that Zuko’s earth nation advisor was much more than a ‘dear friend.’ They laughed too loudly, stood too close, and talked too much to avoid the subject of whispers amongst the staff, and whispers were known to turn to screams.

Many claimed that it was the terrors of war that brought them together—others the aftermath—but no one knew for sure how an earth nation girl was able to catch the Firelord's attention, that is other than the two of them.

She turned around and beamed at him—and though it was the dead of night he could’ve sworn he saw the light in her. She stood in front of him with her night robes hanging from her shoulders and her hair ruffled at her back, and yet Zuko couldn’t seem to find a single thing that about her that didn’t make his heart sing.

She motioned for him to join her at the railing and so he did, standing next to her as they both rested their elbows against the banister.

Autumn air danced its way across their cheeks, leaving Zuko’s cheeks tinged with pink. The fire nation never really grew too cold but, to him, the later months of the year were freezing.

She, on the other hand, was more than happy with this weather. And while Zuko enjoyed it, she was accustomed to it. The earth kingdom, though not objectively cold, was nowhere near the heat of the fire nation.

Zuko nearly thought she would drop dead the first time she visited. She insisted on staying for the entirety of his coronation (despite his protests and all the color leaving her skin) and he thought that would for sure result in her demise. But here she was, smiling at him under the night sky, starlight painting swirls of light into her skin.

Standing there, with her in the dead of autumn, Zuko realized how alone they really were. The palace was quiet, the sun was long below the horizon, and while the capital ran for miles in front of them, life was slowed in the night.

No one knew what they were doing or where they were. For all they knew, no one cared. It was just him and the sky and her. More than anything, it was her.

She turned her head, looking at up him, and his heart fluttered the way it always did. He leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead and he could feel the smile buzz across her lips.

Here, on the balcony, Zuko wasn’t the Firelord. He wasn’t the banished prince, or Lord Zuko. He was hers—and there was no title he wished to carry more.

Chapter Text

“I need you to stop moving.”

“I’m not moving!”

“If you weren’t moving I’d be done by now.”

“No—if you didn’t cut my hair like a maniac you’d be done by now.”

She huffed in response as she twirled a strand of hair around her finger, yanking it back. Sokka whirled in his seat, letting out a shriek she could only describe as inhuman.

“What was THAT for?”

“What was what for?” she hummed in faux obliviousness, continuing to run her hands through his scalp.

Sokka signed and leaned back into his chair, the wood groaning beneath him. She ran her fingers along the side of his head, cold fingers dancing against his skin.

When she wasn’t yanking at his hair or flicking him as he moved, her touch was heavenly. Her fingertips cradled each and every hair, brushing those that fell from her grasp away from his eyes. Her fingers were soft and loving, and though the side of Sokka’s scalp was still reeling, he was content.

He’d fallen ill nearly two weeks ago. Spiking fevers, coughing until his lungs rattled, the whole nine yards. For the second time in his life, he’d been forced to suck on frozen wood frogs and stare at the ceiling until his brain began to ache, and it was safe to say he hated it. Or at least, that was the case until she began to take care of him.

Something about his sickness had sent her into overdrive, and he couldn’t say he was upset about it. She’d spent the last two weeks pressing cool rags to his forehead, scrubbing soaps through his hair, and finally, the fabled haircut.

It was terrible.

There was not a single strand of hair on his head that was the same length as any other, and though it wasn’t entirely noticeable when his hair was down, his signature look was a mess.

So there they were—her gathering all of Sokka’s hair in one hand with a scissor in another, and him sweating under her grip. She held up her wrist dramatically and he nearly squealed as she made the first cut. A strand of hair fell from his shoulder to the floor. He considered asking to see his own reflection but decided against it at the risk of once again getting his hair yanked.

She stuck her tongue between her teeth as she lined up the strands, snipping in small segments. Every once and a while, in between cuts, she’d ruffle her hands through his hair, testing the quality of her work.

Sokka began to await the moments between cuts when this would occur, her fingertips grazing his head, leaving a shock to bloom throughout his skull.

This process continued for nearly an hour and suddenly he heard the scissors drop to the table next to them as she clapped her hands together.

“I think—“ she began, gently pulling it into a small ponytail at the top of his head. “I think I’m done.”

“You… think?” She exhaled through her nose in reply, clearly ignoring him as she lined up her fingers to the side of his head in hopes of haphazardly measuring the length of her work.

She reached over to hand him a hand mirror and Sokka stared at his reflection for a moment. His hair looked the way it did a month ago. Though the sides were shorter and a few strands had been a bit different than what he preferred, it still looked normal (or at least enough so to wear).

She rocked on her heels, placing her hands on his shoulders. Sokka turned the mirror to the side, but he wasn’t so much focusing on himself anymore, as he was focused on her.

Her eyes shimmered in the light. Her hands worked at the top of his head as he gazed, smoothing out the leftover hairs that shot upwards out of the ponytail.

“Does it look alright?” Sokka huffed in laughter, snatching her hand from this hair.

“It’s perfect,” he hummed, rubbing lopsided circles into her knuckles.

A smile crawled up the edges of her cheeks as she slid her arms around his shoulders, digging her chin into his neck. Sokka laughed and let his hands trail up her arms to the base of her elbows, etching patterns into her skin with his thumbs.

“I was afraid it would turn out worse than last time,” she commented, her words muffled against his skin.

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

“The scissors are right there,” she detached her arm from around his neck and flung it in the direction of the side table. “I could literally kill you right now.”

“You would never!” She signed and sunk her head further into his neck.

“Yeah, I know.” Suddenly, she looked up, her eyes growing wide. “But how funny would it be if I did?”

He snorted as she smiled up at him. They sat in silence for a moment, her chin on his shoulder, his hands trailing up and down her arms. It was comfortable—it was gentle. The air was warm, the sun peeked through the curtains, and her breath fanned his neck as he closed his eyes.

Silence with Sokka was never awkward. Where it would normally breed doubt and fear, with him was kind. She hummed into his skin—listening to the vibration of his breaths reverberate throughout his flesh.

He leaned back after a moment, stretching her shoulders against the chair. She could feel the muscles in his back contract against the back of her arms

“Are you gonna let me get up?” She shook head into his skin and he chuckled in response, sighing through his nose as he settled into the wood beneath him.

As much as he hated sucking on frozen frogs or lying in bed all day with the worst haircut of his life, he decided, in that moment, that he would do it all again if it would lead him right here.

Chapter Text

Azula’s hands were soft.

They crawled up from the bottom of her waist to the base of her neck, leaving a shudder of chills trailing painted fingers.

Her lips burned a path from her collar, to her neck, to her jaw. Azula was careful, touching her skin as if it was porcelain under her grasp.

Their hatred for each other was rooted deep. Between nations and families and war, the princess of the Fire Nation was meant to feel nothing for a lowly Upper Ring Aristocrat—and yet here they were.

Azula insisted to herself that such encounters meant nothing. That solicitous words and tender touches exchanged only in the dark were nothing more than that. But with her fingers laced to her jaw and her lips dotting her cheeks, it was becoming harder and harder to deny that there was more beneath the surface.

She, on the other hand, was honey under her touch. There was no silver tongue or affronted words—she was only there—lingering for the burning feeling against her flesh.

“I still hate you,” Azula began. She was towering over her, the woman’s back pressed against the wall, her glacial hands roaming her hair. “But—“

“Shut up.” Her face contorted until she lowered her fingers, twisting them against Azula’s jaw. They stared at each other, stuttered breaths meeting in the air as moonlight kissed their cheeks.

“Care to repeat yourself?” Her words burned into the atmosphere, dripping off her tongue like bile. Her nails caught the edge of her cheek, sinking marks of irritation into her skin as they trailed to the edge of her chin, tilting it to the air.

“Just shut up and kiss me.” Azula cocked her head as a smile began to claw its way up the edges of her mouth.

“If you insist.”

Chapter Text

Zuko yearned for a life he could never have.

One where they’d sit in the gardens and watch the fire lilies bloom. One where he’d watch the afternoon sun kiss her cheeks in her favorite white sundress. One where warm days turned into cool nights—where they’d lay in bed in a house that was just big enough for the two of them.

Instead, she sat next to him at a table that stretched across the room, the chairs dotted with advisors of all nations and conversations consisting only of politics and policy.

Rather than the sundress she loved so dearly, a traditional gown rimmed her shoulders, coating her in shades of red and gold. She looked beautiful, but Zuko knew that it wasn’t what she wanted.

His thumb rubbered circles over her knuckles from under the table and she hummed in contentment with the action.

Neither of them were quite paying attention. The rest of his advisors had begun to chat amongst themselves, but it was clear that neither the Firelord nor his newly betrothed weren’t involved in any aspect of the meeting.

“Lord Zuko,” an older man from the Earth Kingdom (whose name he couldn’t quite remember) perked up. “Shall we resume this tomorrow? It’s getting rather late.”

Zuko cleared his throat and looked up.

“That should be fine, yes. Enjoy your night everyone.” The room cleared and she smiled up at him and he couldn’t help but feel his heart drop.

“Zuko,” she mused, dancing her fingers along the side of his hand. “What’s going on? You have that look on your face.”

“Nothing I just—“ She cocked her head to the side as he sighed, fiddling with the golden rim of his sleeve. “I’m sorry you had to sit through all that.”

She laughed and he squeezed her hand a little tighter.

“If I didn’t want to be here I wouldn’t.” She held his hand to her mouth, lips brushing over his knuckles. “Do you really this some old man from the upper ring is gonna tell me where I have to be?”

“No, probably not,” he snorted.

“That’s what I thought.”

He gazed at her as she pressed each of his knuckles to her lips, tracing little lines into his fingers. Though the sun wasn’t kissing he cheeks, golden lights swirled against her eyes. Though she wasn’t in a field of fire lilies, she stood out so beautifully in a sea of red.

And though that night they didn’t fall asleep in a house that was just big enough for the two of them, her body curled up against silken layers of moon-soaked sheets.

Zuko yearned for a life he could never have, but if he were to live this one, he was better off living it with her.

Chapter Text

fer·vent·ly
/ˈfərvəntlē/
adverb
very enthusiastically or passionately.
"he fervently believes he's doing the right thing"

Zuko sat at the edge of the pond with a baby turtle-duck in his palm, watching as it waddled across his hand.

She perched next to him, legs tucked under her, motioning her hands in such a way that the water slowly began to climb up the shore until it reached just below his knees.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Shadows kissed her cheeks as she looked up at him, eyes wide with newfound curiosity.

“He’s gonna have to learn somehow,” he replied. “How else is he gonna catch up with the others?”

She hummed, not quite agreeing, but not quite disagreeing either.

Slowly, Zuko let his hands down against the grass and the turtle duck sauntered off of his fingers and towards the water. It stuck a webbed foot in first, considering its options before filling submerging itself.

It struggled for a moment and she couldn’t help but reach her arms out to rescue it, but Zuko caught them, collecting her hands in his own.

The turtle duck slowly began to gain its footing, kicking around the pond as it whistled in delight. It stuck its head under the water and quickly came up, shaking the droplets off of its beak.

She laughed, watching it slowly adjust to the pond, and Zuko couldn’t help but let a smile crawl up his cheeks.

“We’re gonna have to let him go soon, you know, now that he knows how to swim and all.”

“I know,” she said, dropping her head onto his shoulder. “I’m gonna miss ‘im.”

Zuko stared down at the little creature in the pond and it beamed back at him, happily clicking its beak. He snorted and leaned into her, pressing a kiss to the side of her forehead.

“I have a feeling he’s going to miss us just as much.”

Chapter Text

The palace gardens were gorgeous this time of year.

She twisted the stem of a fire lily between her fingers, warm air encapsulating her as the honeyed sun kissed the sides of her cheeks.

Zuko was enchanted by her. The gardens were hers—bees singing along to the humming of her breaths, the breeze sweet against her skin. The Summer sun was warm and kind but it had nothing on her. Her skin glowed under its light, adorning the gardens in a heavenly beauty that only she could possess.

She placed the lily in his lap and with free hands held his jaw between her fingers. Her skin was warm and he swore he’d found a home in it. Her lips traveled from his cheeks, down to his jaw, then just at the edge of his scar. Her breath fanned across his skin, an unmistakable sweetness seeping through his pores.

He was hers. Fully, truly, entirely hers. As her fingers found their rightful place along the sides of his shoulders, she hummed into his skin. Her voice reverberated throughout his jaw, leaving chills to spiral throughout his flesh.

His cape flowed to the ground below them, a swirl of red and gold amongst the grasses of the gardens. She wore her favorite sundress—the one that clung to her shoulders in such an ethereal shade of white that he nearly couldn’t believe she was human.

She loved him so endlessly, held him so sweetly, that there was no way she could come from a world of such flaws. With the way her lips brushed his scar or her hands roamed his hair, she could only have descended from the heavens above.

Zuko picked up the fire lily she’d placed in his lap and stuck it gently behind her ear, brushing away strands of hair that’d fallen into her eyes in the process.

He kissed her nose, then her forehead, her cheek. He trailed down her face until their lips met in a way that seemed nearly melodic.

After all his wrongs, Zuko wasn’t sure he’d ever be forgiven for what he’d done. But if the fields of the palace gardens were as close as he’d get to the heavens above, he was okay with that.

Chapter Text

Zuko yearned for a life he could never have.

One where they’d sit in the gardens and watch the fire lilies bloom. One where he’d watch the afternoon sun kiss her cheeks in her favorite white sundress. One where warm days turned into cool nights—where they’d lay in bed in a house that was just big enough for the two of them.

Instead, she sat next to him at a table that stretched across the room, the chairs dotted with advisors of all nations and conversations consisting only of politics and policy.

Rather than the sundress she loved so dearly, a traditional gown rimmed her shoulders, coating her in shades of red and gold. She looked beautiful, but Zuko knew that it wasn’t what she wanted.

His thumb rubbered circles over her knuckles from under the table and she hummed in contentment with the action.

Neither of them were quite paying attention. The rest of his advisors had begun to chat amongst themselves, but it was clear that neither the Firelord nor his newly betrothed were involved in any aspect of the meeting.

“Lord Zuko,” an older man from the Earth Kingdom (whose name he couldn’t quite remember) perked up. “Shall we resume this tomorrow? It’s getting rather late.”

Zuko cleared his throat and looked up.

“That should be fine, yes. Enjoy your night everyone.” The room cleared and when she smiled up at him he couldn’t help but feel his heart drop.

“Zuko,” she mused, dancing her fingers along the side of his hand. “What’s going on? You have that look on your face.”

“Nothing I just—“ She cocked her head to the side as he sighed, fiddling with the golden rim of his sleeve. “I’m sorry you had to sit through all that.”

She laughed and he squeezed her hand a little tighter.

“If I didn’t want to be here I wouldn’t.” She held his hand to her mouth, lips brushing over his knuckles. “Do you really this some old man from the upper ring is gonna tell me where I have to be?”

“No, probably not,” he snorted.

“That’s what I thought.”

He gazed at her as she pressed each of his knuckles to her lips, tracing little lines into his fingers. Though the sun wasn’t kissing her cheeks, golden lights swirled against her eyes. Though she wasn’t in a field of fire lilies, she stood out so beautifully in a sea of red.

And though that night they didn’t fall asleep in a house that was just big enough for the two of them, her body curled up against silken layers of moon-soaked sheets.

Zuko yearned for a life he could never have, but if he were to live this one, he was better off living it with her.