Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mae had replaced the previous Royal Stenographer on the day of Sozin’s Comet. 

It had been an eventful day to say the least. 

From the small, mostly hidden cove where the scribes and stenographers usually sat, she’d taken up the abandoned station on the only intact desk in a desperate attempt to document the chaos happening both inside and outside the palace. And while she’d requested to destroy the copy of chickenlizard scratch that her terror had turned her normally pristine calligraphy into, Fire Lord Zuko had refused and instead had it put away as some sort of museum piece. 

“It’s a piece of history,” He argued and she was, as always, shocked at the rolling gravel that flowed quietly from his mouth, “We must preserve it.” 

And Mae, who’d spent hours scrubbing the ghost of bloodied fingerprints from her brushes and days willing the scratch of pen on paper to drown out the memory of the Fire Princess's wailing; had looked at the child clutching ruined parchment to his chest and suddenly understood like a punch to the jaw why Prince Iroh had to be physically restrained from murdering his brother in cold blood.

Fire Lord Zuko seemed to invoke the mama tigerdillo in the entirety of the palace staff and she found herself making an entirely new set of shorthand phrases for things like, 
“You’ve missed breakfast, your Majesty,” and, “Perhaps you could consider retiring for the day, your Majesty,” and “Are you alright, my Lord?” and “Your Uncle has arrived,” and “There is a… flying bison in the courtyard, your Majesty,” and “I swear to Agni above if another one of those crusty old geezers makes another comment on his age, I’m going to lose it. Seriously, I’m at my limit.” 

But Fire Lord Zuko was ending a century of war, implementing a wide range of radical changes and had neither killed nor banished his father and sister. His father, now a nonbender, still had supporters and his sister was still a legitimate heir to the throne despite her admittance to the Fire Nation’s best mental hospital. 
The assassination attempts shouldn’t have surprised them. 

Mae, whose duties had her occasionally trailing after the Fire Lord from one meeting to the next, was basking in the privilege of being allowed to watch her chronically sleep deprived liege lord be mother henned by his uncle when Prince Iroh froze and glanced sharply to the rooftops to their left. It was a beautiful spring day in the Caldera, warm without being too hot with a beautiful, crisp breeze coming in from the coast. The turtleducklings had hatched the week before and their chirping was the only sound filling the sudden silence. 

“Uncle?” Fire Lord Zuko said softly.

The sudden change in atmosphere pressed heavily against Mae’s shoulders as the Prince turned to her and handed her the delicate teacup he’d been cradling lovingly in his hands. A teacup, she knew, that had been a birthday gift from Princess Azula. 

No, not the prince, she thought.

The man who carefully handed off a still steaming cup of dragon pearl jasmine tea was General Iroh. It was the Dragon of the West that looked at her with eyes of fire and firmly, but wordlessly, pushed Lord Zuko and herself under the shelter of the breezeway. 

Mae’s hands were covered in tea in seconds as a fine tremor made her fingertips go numb against the porcelain. Fire Lord Zuko moved backwards in absolute silence, sliding his feet against the stone to muffle the clicking of his boots. Even the movement of his robes seemed subdued and Mae scuttled backwards as he backed them both to the wall with a protective arm thrown wide, the broad sleeves of his formal robes nearly blocking her view. Distantly, Mae realized that her position -cowering behind her liege lord’s back instead of standing in front of him- was odd; but the absolute stillness that had overcome the Fire Lord and the General had her heart hammering so hard in her chest that she could hardly hear her own panicked thoughts. 

Their deepened breathing was in perfect sync, not that they noticed considering the intensity with which they seemed to be waiting- or perhaps listening. However, even a nonbender would recognize the rising temperature as they brought their inner fires up to simmer just beneath their skin.

Fire Lord Zuko’s hands twitched up as if he were reaching for something behind his back just as four masked figures dropped from the sky. 

The fire was instantaneous and blinding. Mae felt a hand on her shoulder pushing her against the wall before the Fire Lord lunged forward, dissipating the flames with a broad sweep of his arms and leapt away. Flashes of green in her peripheral vision announced the Kyoshi warriors materializing on the scene, but they were all moving so fast that it was impossible for her to track. The fighting flowed into the courtyard and just far enough away for Mae to see a fifth attacker slip out from behind a pillar to her right and dart at the (her seventeen year old) Fire Lord’s back. 

The teacup shattered against the back of the assassin’s head, echoing her wordless screech. He stumbled to a knee, but was up in a breath, spinning with fire engulfing his hands. 

But so did the Fire Lord, the Dragon of the West and the full force of the Kyoshi Warriors. 

It was over between one blink and the next. 

“-ady?” 

Mae blinked and Prince Iroh was in front of her, one fire-warmed hand on her shoulder, smiling gently. “Well aimed, my Lady.” 

Behind him, Fire Lord Zuko’s face was drawn and pale. His topknot had fallen out, but she could see the crown tangled in his obsidian hair slowly sliding down the side of his head. The Kyoshi warriors were swiftly carrying away the assassins in the background, all of which were limp enough that Mae wasn't sure if they were even still alive.

“Your teacup.” Mae found herself saying, bending robotically into a bow, “My deepest apologies, Prince Iroh, I broke your teacup.” 

“Oh, my dear!” Prince Iroh smiled, “It’s only teacup.” 

She didn’t know what her expression looked like when she straightened, but it was apparently awful enough for the Fire Lord to step forward, grimacing as he fumbled to save his crown from completely sliding out of his hair. “Uncle, why don’t you and Lady Mae go start a pot of tea. I'll join you later.” 

Taking Prince Iroh’s offered arm was instinct rather than an conscious decision and as he folded her other hand atop of his arm, she was surprised at the heat pouring off the surprising mass of muscle. Like a heat pack on a cold night, Mae found herself relax into it, the fog at the corners of her vision receding as they wove their way deep into the palace.

“Seventeen years it has taken me to convince my nephew of the power of a pot of tea. Perhaps there hope for teaching him to properly play Pai Sho.” 

“Agni willing,” Mae said, trying for a smile, “Only time will tell.” 

Chapter Text

Princess Azula thwarted an attempt on Fire Lord Zuko’s life three days after her eighteenth birthday on her first day in court in four years. 

Mae’s new desk was positioned on the right side of the throne room, the most forward facing of the half circle of scribe’s desk that reflected her position of Royal Stenographer. It was her favorite part of the day, when the Fire Lord held court to hear the petitions and reports of average citizens and less urgent committees and the wide beam of Agni’s light from the newly installed windows warmed the smooth wood of her desk and her spirit. 

Princess Azula’s attendance had caused quite the stir that morning, but she had done nothing of note besides make the occasional dry remarks to her uncle, who sat happily beside her with a seemingly unending pot of ridiculously fragrant jasmine tea. The Princess was cradling a teacup of her own despite the scoff she made every time her uncle refilled it. Their soft conversation was just loud enough for Mae to hear, so she was duty bound to record it. 

Her Imperial Highness Princess Azula (HIHPA): I could make better cups in my sleep, Uncle. 

His Imperial Highness Prince Iroh (HIHPI): What a wonderful idea, my niece, you are so good with sculpting.

Fire Lord Zuko: Please bring whoever’s next. 

PI: Princess Azula?

Mae looked up, cursing her inconsistent tagging as Princess Azula stood and made her way on soundless feet to stand just behind her brother. Firelord Zuko glanced away from the man shuffling into the throne room to smile at her, briefly placing his hand over hers where she gripped the throne. She lifted an eyebrow at him in response and hissed something too low for Mae to hear (and record, dammit) to bring her brother’s attention forward. 

The corner of his mouth twitched, an expression that typically meant he was fighting a scowl, but he rolled his shoulder’s back and the expression evaporated from his face. 

Mae felt herself frowning in response to the new tension in the Fire Lord’s shoulders and forced her expression neutral as the Earth Kingdom man brought his wandering gaze her way. She heard her assistant scratching complainant's words into their parchment and mindlessly followed suit, but kept her eyes on the Princess who had moved to stand by the side of the throne.

Earth Kingdom Citizen 1: Your Majesty, I am here in regards to my village. 

FLZ: Of course- 

EKC1: It was mostly destroyed, seven years ago- 

The sun against her skin, so warming just moments before, went cold and Mae snapped her gaze up as a horrifyingly familiar feeling wrapped itself around the room. 

Stillness- a moment of preparation before an action. 

The moment of deafening silence after a lightning strike. 

The man kept talking, tone poisonous, but Mae couldn’t get her fingers to move. 

“-on the Fire Lord’s orders.” 

Several things happened at once. 

Princess Azula clawed her fingers in her brother’s robes and threw him to the floor seconds before a knife thudded into the back of the throne. A shocked cry ripped from Mae’s throat as General Iroh leapt to his feet, shattering his tea set as he upended to the low table he sat behind. 

The assassin had just claimed his feet when he was engulfed in brilliant azure flames. The heat sucked the oxygen from the air and the room at large flinched backwards as screams and shouts of alarm echoed under the thunderous sound of the Princess's flames. Behind her, Mae’s assistants scrambled to save their parchments and fled for the door behind them, desperate to save the records stored in the archives hidden there. Even the guards had thrown themselves to the corners of the room, bending the heat away and out of the wide windows. General Iroh swept his arms out, smothering the flames and clearing the way for the room to be flooded by guards.

“Azula!” 

Princess Azula was snarling in front of her brother, who, unlike the shell on the floor that had once been a man, had stood up and was pulling his sister away from the scene with a hand on her shoulder. 

“Are you alright? Azula, are you okay?” 

“Of course, Dum-Dum, although you almost got skewered. You’d think you’d have learned to dodge by now.” The Princess’s expression was caustic, but she was still standing in front of her brother, feet spread wide and shoulders back, resisting his attempts to pull her behind him. She’d doused the flames on her hands, but the fire was clearly simmering just under her skin, hot enough to shimmer the air around her. 

General Iroh, who'd moved to inspect the body, looked up at his niece with something like respect. “Your reflexes are excellent, my niece.” 

“Obviously,” Azula snapped. Mae noted that she hadn’t shoved her brother’s hand off her shoulder as he finally turned them both away from the body, trusting that his Uncle and the Kyoshi warriors would clear the room. 

Fire Lord Zuko bent his head and spoke softly, his gaze flicking up over Azula’s tense shoulder to meet Mae’s eyes before flicking away. He knew that she was duty bound to record the events that occurred within the room, which is why she figured he spoke just loud enough for her to hear when he spoke next. 

“Thank you for saving me, Lala.” 

“Like I would let you get assassinated on my birthday, Zuzu. You haven’t even given me my present yet. It had better be good, considering.” 

“I may need to order more tarts then, considering.” 

Chapter Text

There was a dragon in the state room. 

A dragon, in the state room, in the middle of an extraordinarily important trade meeting with Earth Kingdom officials, sniffing about her highly flammable parchment and attempting to steal the dango right off her desk. 

Mae, Royal Stenographer to Firelord Zuko, was not going to lose her snack to a scaled fire ferret. 

“Druk, no .” For the fifth time in as many minutes, Mae moved her plate to the other side of her desk and scooped up the Firelord’s dragon by its wiggly, campfire warm belly and placed it back on the floor. 

He cleanly leapt back to her desk and curved his ruby red body under her hand, making a sound that was suspiciously close to a purr. A quick glance revealed that none of the Earth Kingdom officials had noticed her distraction, unlike her assistant who she could hear desperately attempting to muffle his snickers behind her. 

The only things she’d been able to record were scribbles of backhanded compliments and while her memory was sharp, it was still distressing to think she could have missed something in the minutes she’d been trying to contain an actual dragon. 

On time to the second, a small group of servers arrived with refreshments and large pitchers of ice water. Everyone at the table seemed to wilt in relief as the water was distributed; something desperately needed on such a sweltering summer day. The wide windows on either end of the room made the heat bearable with a cross breeze, but it was still hot enough for the Firelord to be wearing his lightest robes, his hair braided up and off his neck in what Mae was pretty sure was a water tribe style. 

“Why are you like this?” Mae sighed, watching dispassionately as Druk slunk his snout out from the coil he’d formed under her hand to slowly, slowly edge one of her dango off her plate and across her parchment. 

“You’re not a firebender.” Princess Azula drawled. 

Mae’s finger’s twitched to write down the sentence. She picked Druk up again, steadfastly ignoring his transformation into a sad, wet noodle but froze when she realized that for the first time, Princess Azula was speaking directly to her. 

“Your Highness?” Mae asked. 

Princess Azula had turned from the low desk she usually sat by with her Uncle to lift a single eyebrow at her, and gestured with the hand not holding a fresh glass of ice water at Druk as he wound his body around Mae’s arm like a deceptively heavy, and hot , bangle. 

“You’re cool,” the Princess said, an exasperated edge to her voice. 

“Thank you, your Highness.” 

“Agni above,” The Princess said, “No. You’re physically cool. Every other Fire Nation citizen in this room is a firebender except for you. He’s using you as a human ice pack.” 

Druk let out a trilling sound, as if in agreement, and uncurled from her arm to scamper over and rub his head against the Princess’s knee. 

Mae, now able to actually use her brush, swiftly scribbled down their conversation along with the portions of the meeting she'd missed, but kept her eyes on the Princess as she visibly softened under the baby dragon’s obvious affection. 

“Like a scaly fire ferret,” Princess Azula said, lips twisted into a halfhearted sneer. 

• FLZ: Minister, you must understand that a 20% tarrif would functionally ban the colonies from the market-
• Earth Kingdom Trade Minister Lena: I was unaware, My Lord, you see- 
• HIH Princess Azula: That's not what you said during the break

The conversation evaporated as every head turned to look at Princess Azula. She calmly poured herself more ice water and stared down the minister without blinking. While Mae had never been in the receiving end of that look, she's heard unlucky generals described as being sized up by a lion vulture. 

The Fire Lord was failing to control the open gratitude in his expression and took a cue from his sister to hide his face behind a long drag of water. 

"I... I assure you-" the minister stuttered. Sweat dripped from his hairline sticking errant strands to his temple, but as Princess Azula straightened, he closed his mouth with an audible, painful sounding click. 

"Lady Mae," Mae didn't jump as the Princess addressed her, despite her shock, "Would be so kind as to read back the transcript of the moments after the servants collected the empty water pitchers prior to lunch?" 

The shift of attention settled like a lead ball in the center of Mae' chest. She'd never enjoyed being the center of attention and the scrutiny that accompanied it; which was why she chose to become a stenographer in the first place. She could write neatly without looking, had a memory like a steel trap, a talent for blending into the background and a habit of getting the shakes when nervous. 

"Yes, your Highness." Mae said. She kept her eyes on her scroll to avoid the heat of the eyes on her. "Minister Gau: The rate just seems high. Minister Lena: Of course is it. Either they haggle it lower and we still profit or they agree and we kick them from the market and still profit. Minister Gau-" 

"Are we to trust one servant’s word over my own?" Minister Lena growled, flushed red and sweating from more than the heat. 

Mae felt her expression twist into something unprofessional and bent forward in a bow, hiding the shaking of her hands under her desk and the long sleeves of her robes. 

"With all due respect, I am bound by duty to record what I hear and by honor to ensure it is the truth." Mae straightened as something hot and scaly wiggled its way between her clenched fists under her desk. 

"Minister Lena," And oh, Firelord Zuko was using his soft, furious voice, the one that made the decorative flames in the sconces lining the room grow white hot, "You'll show respect to the members of my court. Lady Mae is the Head Royal Stenographer to the Dragon Throne.  You may issue her an apology before you return to the Earth Kingdom and explain that you attempted to lie to the Fire Nation like a common swindler." 

"Your Majesty!" Lena sputtered, "You-"

"I will not repeat myself." Lord Zuko said. 

Mae looked up as the minister noisily climbed to his feet and stared, flabbergasted, as he offered a nearly perfect bow, "I sincerely apologize for my disrespect." 

She bowed shallowly, breathing deeply to try to keep her heart in her chest. "I accept your apology." 

Lena all but fled, a guard at his heels as he passed by the windows at the front of the room towards the guest wing. 

"I apolo-" Mae began to apologize to the room at large, but the Firelord took back the room's attention as he cleared his throat. 

"Now that the issue is settled, thanks to Lady Mae, I'm sure we can come to a more agreeable rate." On the other side of the table, the team of Fire Nation and colony trade ministers were making no attempts to hide their glee. They openly beamed at her as she settled tingling fingertips back to her brush, nodding in approval. 

With the loss of her attention, Druk returned to Princess Azula, turning her attention away from her brother by throwing himself in her lap.

"Zuzu could use some help," The Princess told the dragon, "Just as we practiced; Code Red Over Green."

Druk chirped and scampered immediately towards the front of the room. A moment later, he jumped onto the far end end of the table and promptly snuffed out the reignited discussion with a dramatic flare of his wings. The pale mane around his head was standing on end, whiskers whipping against the mahogany. The air around his body shimmered as he began to wind his way down the table, puffed out and growling lowly.

Every bit an ancient predator, the dragon stalked along the table, diverting from its clear path towards the Firelord to wrap his body around each of the Earth Kingdom’s water jugs and boiling the water within with a simple brush of scales. The remaining ministers shrank away from the table and the dragon, undoubtedly able to feel the heat rolling off of the first baby dragon seen in a century. Mae understood their fear, of course, they didn’t know what Druk was capable of. 

(They'd heard the rumors of dragon fire of course, and the way that he danced with the Firelord during morning katas under the blessing of Agni's rays. But they'd never seen the dragon get bullied by turtle ducks half his size for a chance to settle in Zuko's lap, or heard the pitiful sound he'd made when he'd gotten stuck in a tree while learning to fly.)

With the sun at Druk’s back, the dragon’s shadow stretched across the Firelord’s face as he approached. Even in shadow  Lord's Zuko molten gold eyes seemed to glow, matching the shine of the five pronged crown settled heavily in his topknot. With dragon wings made of shadow spread wide on the wall behind him, the Firelord had never fit his titles so perfectly; heir of the Dragon Throne, Agni’s Chosen Son. 

Druk leapt for his usual perch along the Firelord’s shoulder, but misjudged the width of his landing spot and slammed snout first into the back of the Firelord’s chair with a squawk. 

Lord Zuko made a sound of concern to match and flailed to attempt to catch what he could of his dragon’s tail, leaning forward just enough for the billowing sleeves of his formal robes to catch his teacup and send it crashing to the floor and into a hundred tiny pieces. Princess Azula thunked her head into her desk with a curse foul enough to make Mae’s ears burn and at once the illusion shattered, returning them to nothing more than overpowered, gold-hearted babies. 

Chapter Text

“Lady Mae,” Mae’s newest assistant spun from her desk and pointed to a line of shorthand in her notes, “Does Lord Zuko call Prince Iroh ‘Uncle,’ even when he’s not in attendance?” There was a flutter of lighthearted laughter around the sunlit office and Mae smiled, tapping the shorthanded symbol with a fingernail. 

“Oh yes,” Mae said, digging out a transcript from earlier in the day to compare it to, “But that’s a good question. Look here, this was today’s security briefing. He calls him Uncle all the time, it makes it easy to get mixed up yourself.” She pointed further down, to where she’d had to cross out her own tagging when she’d referred to the Prince as ‘Uncle.’ 

“-audacity to ask me if I’m sure when I’m the one whose been dressing the boy his entire life.” 

There was a flurry of panicked movement as the slow click of heels and the wind-chime tinkle of jeweled hair pins announced Lady Lixia’s entrance into the office. Sashes were subtly tightened, flyaways tamed with swipes of tongue-dampened fingers, and the posture of everyone in the room snapped into portrait perfection as if they had never learned the meaning of the word ‘slouch.’ 

Lady Lixia had been employed by the royal family for at least the past fifty years. Her exact title was ambiguous, but she served as a cross between the palace’s Head of Staff and Royal Valet. She approved of new hires, uniform standards and the Firelord’s robes with the kind of unchallenged authority that came with age and undeniable expertise. The fact that she had survived not only Azulon but Ozai meant that even Prince Iroh was cowed by her infamous side-eye, like a dragon recognizing one of its own. 

Today, all five feet of her imposing attention was focused on Mae as she slowly glided into the room, shadowed by her willowy assistant.

(Her assistant was only appointed by Lord Zuko himself after Lady Lixia had fallen and found herself unable to get up. The young man was dedicated to his craft, but more so to his master.)

Mae stood and bowed just as Lady Lixia reached her and remained bent to give access to her hair and collar for an aggressive, but gentle straightening. Once she was back in order, Lady Lixia patted her cheek and pulled back. 

“Mae, I need two things.” She said, folding her hands into her sleeves. They shook more than they used to and she hid them more often than not under the flowing fabric of her elaborate, traditional robes. 

“First, I need confirmation that during last week’s budgetary meeting for Lord Zuko’s birthday that I explicitly stated that there was to be no embroidery on any of the fabric for his inner robes. It irritates both his nerves and his skin. I know I said it, I am not senile, and yet, I just received an entire set of formal robes covered in not just embroidery, but beading !” She spat the word like a curse and her assistant shook his head in echoed disgust. “Secondly, I thought that rat, Minister Lena, was banned from the palace after his shameful stunt last summer.” 

Mae, who’d transcribed that incident herself, rushed to the wall of short term archives and pulled the scroll of the debriefing. She blindly pointed at the newest addition to the office, wordlessly assigning her to find the scroll for Lady Lixia's first request. 

“Yes, my Lady,” Mae rerolled the scroll and replaced it on the wall, resisting the urge to pick at her nails. “He’s banned from the palace. May I ask why you’re asking?”

“I saw him," Lady Lixia huffed, "Just now. Nobody else disrespects mongoose lizard leather as he does. His boots are scratched to high hell and he drags his feet when he walks. He even ignored me when I called out to him. He may have updated his color palette to mismatched black, but he still walks like a drunken sloth.”

A flash of alarm spread across the room. 

Lena, banned from the palace, stalking around in all black? He'd had to have snuck in, and people only snuck into the palace for one reason.

“Please, excuse me!” Mae gasped and, with a bow shallow enough to be disrespectful, kicked off her shoes and ran. 

In the stunned silence that followed, Mae’s newest apprentice crowed in victory and waved a scroll, “Oh, yes! Lady Lixia, you did say no embroidery!” 

Mae had hoped that she’d run into a patrol as she tore through the halls, but the sprawling administrative wing wasn’t as heavily guarded as the rest of the palace. After a minute, she altered her course, cursing her chronic avoidance of cardiovascular exercise, and sprinted towards the training rooms and guard’s offices.  

Minister Lena had the physique of an overripe zucchini and while she doubted he could take on a toddler in honorable combat, he was enough of a snake to go for something a little more covert. That fear, plus the undoubtedly positive I.D. of Lena sneaking about the palace gave her wings. 

Wings that sent her careening blindly around sharp corners with nothing but a breathless chirp of warning to send her colleagues diving out of the way in confusion until she found herself, quite suddenly, flat on her back and surrounded by shards of porcelain. 

“Spirits! Are you alright?” 

“Lady Mae!” 

Prince Iroh and Captain Suki gaped down at her with open concern. It took a moment for Mae to connect the warm wet splotch on her robes with a matching stain across Prince Iroh’s chest and the vibrant green shards shaking loose from her clothes as Captain Suki helped her stand. 

“Where are your shoes, my dear?” Prince Iroh blinked. Mae tapped her fingertip against the throbbing spot on the tip of her tongue, frowning when it came out red before she registered that the Prince had asked her a question.

“Are you alright? Why are you running?” Captain Suki said. The Prince flagged down a passing staff member that Mae vaguely recognized as one of the kitchen prep staff and asked for someone to retrieve her shoes as her brain rebooted to accept that fact that she’d just sprinted at full speed into Prince Iroh and shattered yet another of his teacups. 

“Was that your teacup, your Highness? I’m so sorry!” Mae snapped upright from the deep bow she’d dropped into out of habit, startling them both, “Lena is in the palace!” 

“What?” 

“Lady Lixia spotted Minister Lena in the palace, but he’s in disguise. Except for his boots, she recognized his boots! Captain Suki, I know it sounds outlandish but I stake my honor on her word.” Mae pressed a hand to her chest, still struggling to regain her breath, fully aware of how absolutely unprofessional she appeared. She could feel the last of her updo falling into her face and as the adrenaline began to fade, she was pretty sure that her foot was bleeding. 

“I need to go,” Captain Suki said. She squeezed Mae’s hands softly, even as her eyes and voice hardened as she shifted fully into her role, “Thank you, Lady Mae, I believe you. We’ll find him.” 

She was gone in a flash of gold and emerald, leaving Mae to awkwardly attempt to comb her hair into something like a professional updo only to realize she’d lost her hair comb. Prince Iroh looked with bemusement to the circle of shards surrounding them both and heaved a sigh. 

“Lady Mae, I’m beginning to think you dislike my tea sets.” He laughed, good-natured and warm like a campfire. 

“I’m not usually so clumsy, your Highness.” 

“Fear not,” Prince Iroh said, “Teacups are easily replaced. I will go find a broom to free you from your accidental prison. Don’t move.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Mae bowed, only half-joking. 

Prince Iroh chuckled then bustled off, leaving Mae standing in the breezeway alone. She lifted her foot to inspect the damage and grimaced. She must have stubbed a toe somewhere on the run over, but the shard of teacup she pulled from her heel was likely the source of the issue. And the blood.

“Agni dammit.” She had nothing to bind the wound with and so she tried to awkwardly stand on one foot while pressing the hem of her robes to the cut, hissing. The cleaning staff had said getting blood out of the smooth stone was difficult,and between the blood dripping onto the floor and the tea, she’d already caused them enough extra work. 

“How unsightly.” 

Mae’s stomach swopped low as she recognized the audible sneer of former trade minister Lena. 

Lady Lixia's assessment was, as always, spot on. He was dressed head to toe in a mismatched black suit that was clearly built for a shorter man. His scratched mongoose lizard boots were a bright spot with their gaudy golden laces, besides, she noticed with a jolt, the long knife he held loosely in one hand. He was lounging against a pillar just an arm’s length away, arms crossed over his chest.

The palace staff had received training for moments like this. Run, they’d been told, scream to attract attention, use your surroundings to facilitate your escape.  Mae could hear Captain Suki's clear instructions ringing in her mind, but her mouth overruled the week of lectures and demonstrations to blurt, "How did you even get in here?" 

"You mean you peasants haven't memorized all of your secret passages?" Lena kicked off the pillar unsteadily, but the flash of his knife in the morning sun threw Mae into action. 

She started with a scream loud enough to startle them both. 

Lena flinched backward and Mae stooped low, snatched up a handful of porcelain shards, and hurled them in the general direction of his face. He cried out, but Mae had already turned her back and leapt forward, hoping to clear any pieces of broken pottery left on the ground behind her. 

Except, as she jumped from a total standstill, her feet caught on the edge of her robes and she crashed to the floor on a painful cluster of panicked flailing and tangled fabric.

She'd knocked the wind right out of her lungs, but when Lord Zuko and Captain Suki rounded the corner from the training rooms, she brought in enough air into her to wheeze out a mangled, formless, shout of warning. 

The look of surprise evaporated from Lord Zuko’s face as his eyes darted from her to Lena and back again. 

Then, he burst into flames.

("I'd just briefed him on the situation," Suki told her later, over drinks, "We'd already found the leak and were sealing off the tunnel when we turned the corner and… well.") 

Well. 

Well- meant that immediately after being told that there was a hostile in the palace he’d found Mae, prone on the ground, gasping, one bloody hand outstretched in visible pain and Lena, dressed as an assassin, holding a knife, snarling above her. 

(Trying to wipe tiny pieces of broken pottery out his eyes.)

The set of swords that Lord Zuko often trained with were in his hands in one breath and on fire in the next. The fire shot up his arms, engulfing them in a furious rainbow of flame that proceeded to erupt from his feet and rocket him down the breezeway. He ricocheted off a pillar, the wall, and another pillar, leaving behind scorching footprints before sailing overhead, trailing multicolored sparks like a firework.

Lena didn't have time to make a sound. 

Captain Suki slid to her heavily armored knees beside Mae and flipped her over, pressing clinical hands against her in search of injury. 

"I'm okay, I cut my heel. Oh, my hand too, look at that. Mostly my heel. I tripped trying to run- I stepped o-" 

"Lady Mae, I'm back!" Prince Iroh happily stepped around the corner, a small broom and dustpan in his hands, trailed by a flustered maid. "Apologies, it took a littl-" 

The change in his face was so like the one witnessed in his nephew that the rumors regarding Lord Zuko’s lineage seemed suddenly indisputable.

"What happened?" General Iroh snapped, brandishing his broom. He turned a critical eye over the scene; taking in Lena, who Mae could see nothing of besides his awful boots poking out from behind a pillar and his still smoldering nephew, who was suddenly crouched above her. 

"Minister Lena exploited a previously unknown servant's passage to break into the palace, he attacked Lady Mae and was… subdued by Zuko. Uh, the Firelord." The captain corrected herself with a shake of her head and her explanation seemed to settle the General once he realized that Mae was not, in fact, actively dying. 

"He didn't get to attack,” Mae said, “I tripped on my own." 

"You're bleeding," Lord Zuko snapped. Mae recognized the tone as the same he’d adopted when startled, or scared, like when his uncle’s teashop had been targeted or when someone approached on his scarred side. He was the Fire Lord, yes, but crouched next to her, trembling in his casual robes he looked exactly like the teenager he was. Her chest ached as the affection she felt for him dug its talons even deeper in her heart. The Fire Nation couldn’t fathom how lucky they were to have him.

"I stepped on a shard of a teacup. I'm alright, my Lord, thanks to your quick reflexes.” She said gently. He didn’t look reassured, but Prince Iroh had relaxed enough to allow the maid at his heels to sweep up the teacup remains with her reclaimed supplies. “To be clear, for my report, did you shoot fire from your feet?"

Lord Zuko groaned and sat back in his heels, rubbing trembling hands over his face, "Yes. Urgh, Azula isn't going to let me live this down." 

The sharp, but slow clack of heels down the hallway had every back popping into an approximation of perfect posture as Lady Lixia ambled around the corner. She paused, pale eyes widening, and Mae fought to keep her hands out of the mess of her hair as she felt Lady Lixia's eyes scrape across her person. 

“Lady Mae, are you well?” 

“Yes, Lady Lixia. We’ve um… Hm. We’ve solved the issue of former minister Lena, you see.” Mae said. Lady Lixia nodded, just once, visibly dismissing the incident.

“Lord Zuko," she intoned, and the Firelord leapt gracefully to his feet and padded over to her, bowing shallowly. He remained tilted at the waist as Lady Lixia gathered his hair, shaken loose from his training ponytail, back into a flawless topknot with a golden ribbon manifested from somewhere on her person and straightened the collar of his robes. She patted his cheek gently when she finished and he rose back up to his full height obediently, a picture of royal poise. "Lady Mae has been most helpful in settling our earlier issue. I explicitly stated that there was to be no embroidery or extraneous details on your inner robes, as I knew I did. The new set will be delivered this afternoon so be sure to stop by around three for a final fitting." 

"Thank you, Lady Lixia." Lord Zuko said, "I will."

“Prince Iroh,” Lady Lixia said and the Prince swapped places with his nephew, bowing as Lady Lixia tutted at his beard and the hem of his robes. “Your beard is a travesty. Ensure that you visit Iza before the Earth Kingdom delegates arrive on Lord Zuko’s birthday.” 

Prince Iroh chuckled and ran his fingers through his beard, “I shall do so, my Lady.”  

Several guards dragged a moaning Lena off as another Kyoshi warrior all but bounced over to join them to start wrapping Mae’s foot. “Hiya Zuko! Got another one, huh?” 

Ty Lee, Mae’s mind supplied, the most unique of the warriors beside their captain. It was said she used to be an acrobat and was a childhood friend of both the Princess and Lord Zuko. 

Lady Lixia cleared her throat and Ty Lee looked up with a beaming smile, “I mean, Lord Zuko?” 

Lady Lixia turned away, shaking her head. “Youths!” 

Chapter Text

In the two months since Prince Iroh returned to Ba Sing Se, Firelord Zuko had fallen asleep in meetings twice and four times during his midday meal in the gardens. The bags under the Firelord’s good eye cast a shadow deep enough to hide the piles of questionable scrolls he produced (and was found sleeping on) during his late-night work binges. 

The palace staff reached their breaking point on an unseasonably cold and rainy afternoon. Lord Zuko had held court that morning but had remained in the stateroom working silently as steady sheets of rain beat against the palace rooftop. Mae had quietly recorded his refusal of breakfast but as the head chef himself brought in a covered bowl of- judging by the smell- spicy peanut noodles, she lifted her eyes to watch. 

"Your Majesty," Chef announced himself with a bow too shallow to be truly respectful and set the bowl down beside him, chopsticks neatly stacked on top. 

Lord Zuko only looked up when Chef rattled the tea set he'd brought with him, preying on old instincts to garner the Fire Lord's scattered attention. 

"Chef?" He said, almost confused. Mae's stomach plummeted to her feet at his stuttered response and the way he went visibly green around the gills at the smell of what his Uncle had claimed was his favorite food. "Oh, I-" 

"My Lord," Chef said, "You skipped breakfast. I can prepare something else if you wish, but you must eat something." 

Lord Zuko was much too gentle to buck against the lack of respect in Chef's tone and the rest of the staff and guards were far too concerned to point it out. 

"Oh, I- Yes, I suppose I did. Thank you." He nodded and dragged the dish closer with his fingertips. Chef, seemingly satisfied, stepped away from the table. Lord Zuko made no move to remove the dish's cover, however. He simply tapped the gilded edge of the bowl with his fingertip before moving back to his parchment. 

Chef didn’t leave. He stood and waited, watching as the Firelord quickly lost himself in piles of parchment with the look of a man realizing that he had a Problem. 

“Lunch, my Lord.” Chef stepped forward and removed the cover from the noodles without ceremony, pushing it directly in front of him while sliding his parchment out of the way at the same time. 

Then, he set his trap.

“If it’s not to your liking, I’ll simply throw the dish away and prepare you something else.” 

The statement hit the Firelord like a physical blow and his hands were clawed around the bowl in a flash. 

The Fire Palace did not waste food. 

“No. ” The Firelord snapped, but Chef was not cowed by the lick of flame that slipped out of his mouth, “No. I’m going to eat it, thank you.” 

"Excellent!" Chef, who'd stepped forward as if he were actually going to take food from the Firelord, smiled brightly and bowed before taking his leave. 

When Chef returned hours later to find the dish half-eaten, chopsticks abandoned and the Firelord gone, he turned to Mae and snarled. 

"That's it! We gotta call Iroh-" 

"Prince Iroh-" said Mae's assistant. 

"Prince Iroh-," Chef corrected, "back to the palace." 

"We can't!" Mae insisted, relieved that the storm drowned their conversation, "We'd be betraying him." 

Even just discussing it felt like treason, even if she agreed. 

"I'll not watch him starve himself instead of delegating to those weasels." Chef said, snatching up the discarded bowl. He tore open the cover again as if confirming that yes, the Firelord had moved the noodles around, eating the chicken and nothing else. He looked furious, but his eyes held the worried grieving of a father at the end of his rope. "He'll work himself to ashes and then where will be? Eh? Back to square one?" 

"I've an idea." 

The three snapped their heads up to find Captain Suki leaning against the open doorway, arms crossed with crimson lips pulled into a smirk. It was an expression that Mae had seen on many a plotting sibling and so she put a hand over her assistant's trembling fingers, wordlessly reassuring her that they weren't in trouble. 

"We can't send for Uncle," Captain Suki said, "But I can send for the next best thing." 

In winter the Fire Palace's grand doors stood closed and her curtains pinned open, hoping to trap sunlight and warmth within her cavernous rooms. It drew a blanket over the palace, quieting the halls and the staff in a way that was peaceful as opposed to stifling. Mae and her staff worked under kotatsu tables gifted from Prince Iroh with blankets that matched Druk's scales in both color and warmth. Combined with their near-constant supply of the Earth Kingdom's finest teas, they were lulled into a nearly meditative state with the rain pitter-pattering against the rooftop. 

Which was why when the doors to the Firelord's preferred stateroom were violently blown open three days later, the entire room jumped. 

Mae nearly knocked her entire desk over as the doors bounced against the wooden blocks embedded into the walls, sending her teacup three feet high before it crashed to the floor in countless shards of crimson confetti. 

The Kyoshi warriors guarding the room were the only ones unmoved, although if they were frozen in shock or simply unconcerned, Mae couldn't tell. Her assistant, Yara, was cowering behind her, tugging desperately at her robes to pull her down, but a soft hand on the girl's head prompted her to poke her head up and around Mae's waist to peer in rapidly growing confusion at the intruder. 

"Sparky, you look like shit!" 

Toph BeiFong was an earthquake of a seventeen-year-old. She traveled solo despite her nobility, brawled despite her blindness, and seemingly feared nothing from Agni above or the earth below. Which made sense, Mae figured, as she was beyond doubt the greatest earthbender the world had ever known. 

Presently, the world's greatest earthbender had seen fit to startle the Firelord so badly that most of his body was wrapped in white-hot flames until his sleep-starved mind connected the rumbling of the tiled floors to the smirking child before him. 

"Are you  crazy ? I could have killed you!" He roared but Master BeiFong laughed, delighted in the face of his anger. 

"Lady Mae!" Yara gasped, squeezing the air from Mae's lungs, "Shall we flee? Why do they do nothing? What is happening?" 

"Fear not," Mae said, letting the girl tuck herself under the flowing sleeves of her robes, "That's Master BeiFong, she is a friend of Lord Zuko. " 

Lord Zuko stood and rounded the table, his flames snuffed out. As soon as he was in range, Master BeiFong pounced, wrapping her arms around Lord Zuko's waist to lift him straight off his feet and into an impressive spin. Mae subtly pointed to the smile splitting his face and patted Yara's shoulder reassuringly. Lord Zuko bent low to return her fierce hug as his most recent growth spurt had made him sprout up like a weed, visibly melting as Master BeiFong’s hands twisted in the fabric of his robes.

“When did you get here?” Lord Zuko said, pulling away from the embrace with a delightfully red face. He seemed to have remembered his audience, judging from the glance he sent to Mae and the Kyoshi warriors.

“Just now,” Toph said, "I journeyed across land and sea to rescue you from your boring office!" 

Lord Zuko finally seemed to notice the lazy smiles on the Kyoshi warriors in the room's corners and narrowed his eyes. “Suki sent for you?” 

“Can’t I visit my favorite heat rock?” She asked, playing at offense as she wrapped her arms around one of his like a large barnacle, "I went through all the trouble of writing you and you didn't even reply." She tugged on his arm in a move Mae recognized from little sisters everywhere and watched with a fondness that made her chest ache as the Firelord’s topknot gave up the ghost, sending his hair and his crown tumbling. He managed to catch the crown, but whatever argument he’d been about to provide disappeared as Toph complained that she was hungry. 

“Toph,” He said, dragging his free hand down his face, “I have meetings. Work.” His fingers caught on at the bruises under his eyes, putting his exhaustion on further display. 

“Your Majesty,” Mae said, lifting her arm to free her apprentice, “You have no meetings today.” 

“It’s Tuesday,” Lord Zuko said, referring to his standing finance and agriculture briefings. 

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Mae confirmed with a short bow. She tried and failed to contain her smile, “The meetings were moved to accommodate our honored guest on the Princess’s order.” 

(“Easier than the options I was considering,” the Princess had said after Captain Suki proposed the plan. Neither Captain Suki nor Mae asked what the 'options' had been.) 

“Azula signed off-?” Lord Zuko trailed off and pinched the bridge of his nose, his face twisted with bemusement, “Sure. Alright. Okay. Let’s go, Toph. You can at least give me some updates.” 

The next three days were blissful, as Mae’s meeting free days often were. The rain continued to fall in steady sheets, but it felt cozy instead of cold, especially rumors of the Firelord being spotted giving Master Bei Fong piggyback rides over puddles and, occasionally through the rain itself spread joyfully through the palace. 

Chef confirmed that Lord Zuko's infamous eating habits had improved by delivering an unusually large, unprompted platter of honey cakes to the scribes' offices (well known to be Mae's favorite) and by spoiling the whole of the palace with a large order of plum wine. 

Mae, who had taken advantage of the rooms available in the palace due to her position, occasionally found herself kept up by the nightmares common to all members of the palace staff. She'd shuffle through the darkened hallways, past keen-eyed guards and sleeping turtleducks to the kitchens for tea and company on those nights, contenting herself to help the night staff prepare for the next day until she was slumped over the counters. 

On the second night of Master BeiFong's visit, she opened the door to the kitchens and moved immediately to pull on an apron, still bleary-eyed with terror and the lingering dredges of sleep. When she turned, however, it was to find two bright-eyed youths frozen over the new crate of precious plum wine, a bottle in each hand and a frazzled, shocked expression shared between them.

Firelord Zuko, First of his Name, Agni's Chosen Son, was dressed in a tight black (oddly familiar) catsuit, his hair free of both topknot and crown. Druk was curled around his shoulders, hanging on with his back legs and tail as his front claws were clutching the neck of a of bottle of wine. The bottle was slowly slipping, providing a screeching background accompaniment to the scene as his claws dug into the glass. At his side, Master BeiFong, Hero of the 100-Year War, slowly, slowly, slowly, edged one bottle back into the crate. 

Mae blinked.

Druk readjusted his grip on the neck of the bottle and drew himself up and into the hood of the Firelord's suit, hiding behind the curtain of Lord Zuko's hair. 

There was a flush, Mae realized, riding high along both Toph and Zuko's cheeks and, as the moment dragged, an unsteady sway in their stillness. But it wasn't until Toph released a string of giggles that the realization exploded like a lightning bolt in Mae's mind. 

"You're drunk!" Mae gasped, delighted, and the spell was broken. 

"Scatter!" Toph cried and the trio exploded into uncoordinated action, scrambling like startled cats for the service doors. They crashed inelegantly into countertops and shelves, dangerously close to knocking their contents to the ground in their haste. They disappeared with the swiftly fading sounds of clinking glass and breathless laughter out and into the night. 

The silence they left behind echoed pleasantly.

Mae hung up her apron and went back to bed, saluting the smiling guards as she did so, content that, at least for tonight, the palace was much too full of joy for fear to linger.

Chapter Text

The Firelord's birthday celebrations took place at the height of summer, regardless the actual date of their birthday. The Fire Sages claimed it ensured that Agni's blessings shone upon the nation's leader for as long as possible, symbolizing the divine connection between them. 

Historically, this meant a weeklong festival centered on the summer solstice, but such extravagant parties were not in alignment with Firelord Zuko's personality or restrained post-war budget. Ultimately, it meant that Lord Zuko’s birthday celebrations were positively demure compared to his predecessor’s. Certain traditions were essentially mandated; but once the speeches were made and the blessings bestowed, Lord Zuko was free to slip back to the palace with his heroic friends to enjoy a few days off, even if it was a few weeks after his actual birthday. 

He held no grand parties but there were certainly revered guests and the staff gossiped in a novel a level of awe when the Avatar himself zipped through the breezeways or was seen sparring with the Firelord, laughing in delight between brilliant flashes of dragon fire. 

But Agni above, they were so young.

The Water Tribe siblings squabbled like pygmy pumas and Master Bei Fong’s temper tantrums made the walls shiver in fear; even the freshly nineteen-year-old Firelord could be goaded into pouncing if Ambassador Sokka pressed hard enough. 

They were war heroes, yes, but in the end, they were young men and women asked to carry burdens that had crushed those who’d come before to ashes.

It was those burdens that had Lord Zuko popping into the stateroom in the aftermath of another tense financial update meeting to sign off on the most recent round of tax increases on the wealthy. It wasn’t a popular policy judging by the raised voices and cutting remarks alone, but it was necessary to drive the Fire Nation's continued efforts to reverse their economic dependency on war. 

Lord Zuko pulled his flowing sleeve out of the way to avoid smearing Mae’s careful handwriting and stamped his approval on the order with a wry smile. 

“We’re late, Zuko! Let’s go, let’s go!” The Avatar bounced on the balls of his feet in the open doorway, backlit by the sun rising over the palace walls. “Toph is going to eat all of the cake!” 

“She won’t-” Master Katara sighed. 

“She will!” Ambassador Sokka and Captain Suki said together. 

“She won’t,” Lord Zuko said quietly, smiling at Mae and her assistant over the top of the order. He liked to review the meetings he missed, searching over transcripts for something; something he always seemed surprised not to see. 

“Sifu Hotman!” The Avatar whined from the doorway, bent backward, arms dangling like limp, petulant noodles.

“Okay, okay, let’s go.” Lord Zuko turned for the door, sighing dramatically despite his indulgent smile.

“Best not keep them waiting, Your Majesty. Cake for breakfast only comes around once a year.” With her day more or less over Mae stood and followed him out, scrolls carefully rolled and tucked under her arm for delivery back to the scribe's office. The Avatar had whooped as soon as Lord Zuko had turned towards them, grabbing Master Katara around the waist to hoist her up and into the air and down the breezeway in a blink. Ambassador Sokka shook his head and trotted after them, shouting into the rapidly warming morning. “That’s not fair!”

Mae and Lord Zuko strolled through the rapidly warming breezeways in comfortable silence, happy to bask in the sunrise and let the thick shafts of sunlight gleaming between the palace’s rounded pillars warm their faces. Soon the sun would fully evaporate the patches of dew still lurking in the waning shadows and the heat of the day would chase all but firebenders into the shade. But for now, the morning was blissfully still, the only sounds (aside from the rapidly fading hoots of their honored guests) the soft taps of feet against the floor and the quacking of turtleducks. 

“Have a good day, Lady Mae.” Lord Zuko smiled as they came to the hallway that branched off to the administrative offices. 

Mae stopped in the shadow of a pillar and bowed, “And you, your Majesty. Happy Birthday, may Agni bless you.” 

The dull thunk of impact nearly went unnoticed. 

The swirl of Lord Zuko’s summer robes as he stumbled backward did not. 

Mae snapped upright, “Lord Zuko?” 

The fletching on the arrow was the same deep crimson as the blood blossoming around the shaft protruding from his chest. He looked utterly bewildered, reaching up to tap his fingertip against the stain, before his expression morphed into something almost disappointed as blood dripped from his finger in a single, ruby teardrop. 

Someone was screaming. But the sound was warped as if it were echoing from the other side of the palace. Mae’s scream was caught somewhere in her throat, tangling itself up in her teeth before leaking out in a pained, panicked whine that snapped them from the shocked stillness that had descended upon them. 

Mae lunged for Lord Zuko as he dove for her. He pushed and she pulled and they slammed to the ground in the safety of the closest pillar’s shadow. Lord Zuko ended up flat on his back, wheezing, Mae trembling protectively above him. 

The distant screaming grew louder as a second arrow sprang from the pillar behind them. Positioned, Mae realized, to strike the Firelord again had they not moved. 

“Stay down,” He commanded, breathless, “Stay calm. It’s okay.” 

Mae used numb fingers to gather the flowing fabric of her sleeves and put pressure around the arrow. Lord Zuko went paler than parchment but didn’t utter so much as a groan as she pressed down as hard as her shaking hands would allow. Instead, he kicked his heels against the floor, just once, then fell still, the muscles in his jaw jumping as he clenched his teeth together. She could hear her assistant shouting down the hallway, metallic fans swishing through the air and whoosh of powerful bending, but it was easily drowned by the horrific sound of Lord Zuko’s labored breaths hissing through his teeth.

“Don’t cry. Please, it’s alright.” Lord Zuko said faintly, “I’m fine, I swear it is not that bad. Katara.... Katara is here- it probably won’t even scar.” 

Mae blinked and flinched as tears dripped onto the hand he’d settled over her own, leaving a track through the blood smeared along his fingers. She couldn’t really feel her fingers, but his hands, like all firebender’s, were warm. 

She blinked again and hands were trying to tear her away from Lord Zuko. 

She thrashed, snarling, her heart jumping in her throat, but the ground rose under her as a single slab, knocking her hands loose and sending her sliding back. 

Her assistant was suddenly beside her, catching her before she could tumble backward as the slab skidded to a stop and smacked into the wall behind them. 

Mae leapt to her feet and started forward, but her assistant pulled her back and straight off her feet with both of his arms wrapped around her waist. The sudden halting of her forward momentum shocked her enough to clear the blinders that had narrowed her vision.

Master Katara was holding a swirling, glowing disk of water over Zuko’s chest. Master Bei Fong bent the piece of the flooring she must have moved back into place and shifted, blocking the Firelord from view.

Captain Suki had the crimson fletched arrow in her hand, inspecting its blood soaked tip. 

Nausea swelled in her throat and Mae gagged, prompting her assistant to let her go. He set his hands on her back, but she shook him off, already moving. She was deaf to him calling her name, blind to the hands that reached out to catch her as she sprinted back to her office- moving on instinct to her desk to draw a fresh piece of parchment. 

She had to record the incident. 

She had to put down the details to paper before they scattered like seafoam to the panic she could feel banging at the edge of her thoughts, but when she brought her eyes to her work she froze. 

There was blood on her brushes. 

The bottom of the world dropped out and Mae tumbled into the dark. 

There was blood on her brushes and blood on her parchment and it would all stick together but she was the only one left. There were only a few sheets left in the tiny, hidden corner of the throne room and the palace was on fire. It had to be, it was the only explanation; she was the only scribe left. 

It had been one errand. She’d been gone for an hour and the office was gone- they were all gone- She’d never eat meat again- the smell, they never spoke about the smell, the smell people make when- 

There was a demon screeching, she’d never heard such an awful sound going on and on and on- She had to hide the records. If someone found them... She had to hide, but there was blood on her brushes (“Clean records start with clean tools, Mae.”) she had to have clean brushes and- 

Fire lilies and jasmine.

Mae fell back into her body in pieces. 

The first thing she was conscious of was the nearly overwhelming scent of fire lilies and jasmine in full bloom; a classic, ancient perfume. Beneath it, she could smell grass wet with dew and fainter still, something like a wet dog.

She could feel an arm curled around her shoulder and silk against her cheek. Cool fingers were moving soothingly through her hair in a regular, rhythmic path and as the static receded from her ears, she could hear subdued conversation above. 

“Patience, child, she is simply lost to memory.” Lady Lixia said and at once, everything in Mae went loose with relief. If Lady Lixia had arrived then the situation was in hand. 

Then, like a flash of lightning, the puzzle pieces clicked together. She was laying in Lady Lixia’s lap. 

Mae’s eyes snapped open as she gasped into full awareness, horrified at her unprecedented lack of composure. 

"Back with us?" Lady Lixia said. They were outside in the courtyard and someone had brought Lady Lixia a low chair, likely to protect her skirts from the grass and to keep her comfortable. Mae immediately moved to get up, face flushing in mortification and an apology on her lips, but a disapproving scoff and the sharp prick of nails against the back of her head pinned Mae back down. 

“Remain still.” Lady Lixia scolded, voice as commanding as ever despite how gently she was moving her fingers through Mae’s hair. 

"I- My deepest apologies, Lady Lixia. Is-? What-?" Mae stuttered, unable to unstick her traitorous tongue from her teeth. What is happening? How did I get out here? Where is Lord Zuko? 

The Avatar poked his head up above Lady Lixia’s shoulder and smiled, "Zuko's okay, don't worry. Katara is taking care of him. He asked us to come take care of you.” 

The little monk’s face changed and Mae would swear to Agni his eyes flashed blue as he continued, “We got the man who shot him too, don’t worry.” 

There was a groan then, or something like a groan and a warm, damp gust of air threw Mae’s hair over her face. She squeaked when something licked her foot and drew her legs up to her chest. 

When had she lost her shoes? 

“I said patience!” Lady Lixia snapped and when Mae braved moving the curtain of her hair away it was to the surreal image of Lady Lixia managing to stare down a sky bison, the Avatar’s sky bison , despite being seated and comically outsized. The bison lowered itself to the ground gently enough that the world didn’t shake around them and nudged at Mae’s foot with its massive nose. 

“Appa was just worried,” The Avatar’s ridiculously expressive face dimmed, “You…um, went away and it scared him.” 

Mae had only seen the sky bison from a distance before, back when the Peace Talks were in full swing and the Firelord was traveling to meetings and hosting leaders from across the globe. The Avatar had acted as the world’s fastest transport, swooping into the Palace courtyards at frankly alarming speeds to, on occasion, simply snatch the Firelord from the earth or drop him off just as quickly. 

It was larger than she’d pictured and frighteningly fast, but Lord Zuko was frequently seen covered in sky bison fur on account of his proclivity for throwing his entire person into the mass of fluff on the creature's side and so she (and the rest of the staff) had quickly realized that it wasn’t going to eat him. 

“I apologize, Avatar Aang.” Mae said. Lady Lixia had allowed her to sit up, so she took the freedom to bow shallowly, “I didn’t intend to alarm you. There are… circumstances, hm, that can, uh, remind me of unpleasant times. There was-” Mae’s throat clogged on the words, her heart pounding at the thought of attempting to explain her fear. She could see bloodied fingerprints in her mind's eyes, feel terrible warmth soaking under her nails again and static started to build in her ears. 

“There is no need to speak further on it now.” Lady Lixia declared. Her voice rang like a meditation bell and the panic was swept away as she gathered Mae’s loose hair between her hands and gently tugged her back. “Your hair, Lady Mae. Sit straight. Yes, back a bit.” 

The Avatar settled himself in front of them and rested his chin on his hands to watch as Lady Lixia began to braid Mae’s hair up into a style far too formal for everyday use, pinning it in place with jeweled pins from her own hair. 

“Zuko and Uncle said to come see them when we’re done here. Toph saved us all some cake.” He said, “Suki and Sokka are sorting some stuff out, but they’ll join later.” 

Mae stood slowly, both expecting her legs to refuse her weight and waiting for Lady Lixia to protest- but when she moved to help the matriarch to her feet, Lady Lixia flapped her a hand in dismissal. 

"No, thank you. I think I shall sit out here for a bit longer. With Appa. When you’re finished with your visit, you’re to return to your quarters to rest." 

“Yes, Lady Lixia.” Mae nodded. 

Lady Lixia settled into something like a seiza, looking like royalty herself with her wine colored robes fanned out on the grass and the bejeweled detailing of her accessories glistening in the sun. Appa rolled over carefully, splayed in the sun like a cat to inchworm himself closer to Lady Lixia's upturned hands. 

Avatar Aang extended his arm for Mae to hold and she took it out of both more respect and need. He was only a hair taller than she was, growing like a weed in the luxury of a post-war world. 

"Thank you." He said, glancing over at her as they made their way towards the Firelord's wing. Mae, who'd been focusing on the Avatar's even, fire bender-like breathing, started. "Zuko is my family," he said seriously, "I worry about him all the time and I wish I could visit more often. It's comforting to know that he has people here that care about him." 

"Avatar Aang," Mae pulled them to a stop in front of the open window of one of Lord Zuko’s offices. She gently untangled their arms so she could properly bow, making her flame as large as her fingers could manage, "You honor me, but I should be the one thanking you. Defeating Ozai allowed Agni to bless us with Firelord Zuko, restoring honor, compassion and… and kindness to the Dragon Throne. The Fire Palace is loyal to Firelord Zuko but we cannot always protect him. Thank you, Avatar Aang, for protecting him when we cannot." 

"I'm gonna… can I hug you?" Avatar Aang bounced on his toes, eyes wet in a way that made him look all of ten years old. She nodded and immediately had an armful of sniffling Avatar. 

"Aang! Put the lady down!" 

Ambassador Sokka spoke like the exasperated older brother he was. Mae only realized that her feet weren't on the ground when the Avatar turned to face him. The water tribesmen's wolf tail had mostly come loose, and when he tilted his head to the side to smile wryly, she found it did little to hide the boomerang holstered on his back.

"Oh! Sokka! You're back!" Avatar Aang set Mae down with a bashful grin before looping his arm through her's to drag them forward and around the open door to their right. Ambassador Sokka was caught just as she was with an arm tucked under his own, smirking down at the Avatar's enthusiasm, stumbling as he tilted awkwardly to the side due to their height difference. 

“Zuko! Uncle! Look who I found!” The Avatar pulled them to a stop just feet inside the room. Lord Zuko was tucked into a sprawling, plush daybed and propped with what appeared to be every throw pillow the palace owned. Although his face was bright red, his eyes were clear and alert, no longer clouded with pain. 

Prince Iroh tucked a handkerchief into his pocket as he stood to greet them. His eyes were rimmed with red but his smile was bright and full of warmth as always. Master Bei Fong and Master Katara were tucked carefully around the Firelord, twin grins on their faces. 

“Lady Mae,” Prince Iroh greeted, stepping forward as the Avatar streaked by him to leap at the group on the bed, “It is a pleasure, as always.” 

"Aang! Be careful!" Master Katara held out a hand as the Avatar crawled across the bed. 

"I trust you're well, Prince Iroh? Lord Zuko, it pleases me to see you're alright." Mae bowed to both the prince and the Firelord. She found herself relieved nearly to the point of tears at the vivid display of health as the Firelord squawked, clearly unused to being physically manhandled as his friends twisted around him to ensure they all fit on the bed.

“I’m fine, Mae. I told you I would be.” He said, using his elbows to poke and shove his way until he was more or less upright. “I’m sorry you had to, uh, experience that though. I know it was… upsetting.” 

‘Upsetting’ wasn’t the word that Mae would use, but Lord Zuko was very obviously attempting to spare her discomfort. He was using the voice he used when trying to invoke his authority, but the combination of his stilted wording and the sprawl of children across his person ruined the effect. 

“I’m honored I was able to help, my Lord.” Mae said.

She bowed lowly to Master Katara next. “Thank you, Master Katara, for your aid. May Agni bless you.” 

“Oh, no.” Master Katara said, “You don’t have to- Ow! Aang!” 

“It’s considered rude to reject a blessing made in thanks.” The Avatar whispered. 

“Ah. Oh, uh, you’re very welcome.” She said. She returned Mae’s bow with a soft smile. 

A cool breeze whispered at Mae's back from the open window behind her, causing the hairpins Lady Lixia had placed in her hair to chime softly. She’d turned to close it out of habit when she realized that it was the same window that she and the Avatar had paused beneath. 

The same, wide-open window with its curtains dancing in the wind leading into the room where the Firelord was currently resting. 

"Oh, you can leave that open, my dear." Prince Iroh called. He handed her a cup of jasmine tea and a slice of cake when she robotically turned towards him. He led her to sit at the low table under the window, settling beside her with a heavy, satisfied sigh. "It's letting in such sweet sounds and fragrances this morning- it’s good for Lord Zuko's constitution." 

Mae drained her teacup to drown her soul’s horrified screaming. 

It would do nothing about the blush of mortification she could feel blooming across her cheeks, but it saved her from having to reply for a moment as she attempted to gather her already scattered thoughts. 

“It is a um, crisp morning. Despite everything.” Mae said, turning to her slice of cake. Prince Iroh poured her more tea, chuckling as another squabble sparked to life on the daybed across the room as Sokka attempted to sneak a bite of Lord Zuko’s cake. 

“Bitter tea makes the cake that much sweeter, does it not?”

“Yes, Prince Iroh, I suppose it does.” 

Chapter Text

The Fire Palace met Druk, the honest-to-Agni dragon, bright and early on a warm spring morning when Fire Lord Zuko strolled into his preferred stateroom with it wrapped around his neck like an ostentatious necklace. Mae, at the time still the only member of her office (although Lady Lixia was assisting with finalizing the candidates for her team), had her head down to prepare for the day’s meetings when Captain Suki’s voice rose to such an alarmingly high pitch that she nearly fumbled her teacup. 

“Zuko! What is that!” 

“What? Oh! Oh, this is Druk. He hatched last night.” 

It took Mae an embarrassingly long moment to notice that the Fire Lord’s ruby necklace was moving . The dragon was slithering around his throat and through the short curtain of his hair to peek out at them, long white whiskers starkly visible even as it hid in the shadows behind his shoulders. 

“Is that a dragon ?” Captain Suki cried. 

“Yes, but he’s just a baby right now. I think. This is why I sent the hawk out last night, remember?” 

Chef slipped in through the servant’s door to the left of the throne, his face twisted in confusion at the large covered tray in his hands. 

“Your Majesty, I have your breakfast?” 

“Thank you, Chef.” Lord Zuko said. His face was glowing red, flushing in embarrassment as Chef set down two dishes and a tea set. Without flourish he removed their gleaming metal covers, revealing Lord Zuko’s normal congee and an entire bowl filled with what appeared to be finely diced raw meat. 

The moment that Chef moved backward, the tiny dragon, no bigger around than a kitten and roughly as long as Lord Zuko’s forearm, leapt cleanly from his shoulder to the tabletop before pouncing on the bowl of meat. He shoved his entire head into the bowl, the entirety of his wiggly body flailing. 

“-dragon?” Someone whispered, and Mae knew immediately that the rumor was already running down the hallways.

“Zuko, where did you get a dragon.” Captain Suki spoke with the oft tested patience of an older sister, lips pressed together as she twisted her fan between her hands. 

“The Sun Warriors.” Lord Zuko said. He was, understandably, distracted by the high-pitched meeps of obvious delight emanating from the baby dragon in front of him. 

Chef pulled the hand towel hanging from his belt off and carefully placed it next to Lord Zuko’s elbow. 

“Lord Zuko, why is there a baby dragon?” Mae swallowed roughly as she spoke up, but it was obvious that everyone in the room aside from the Fire Lord himself was aware of the absurdity of the situation. 

“He hatched.” Lord Zuko said simply. 

Druk, having cleaned the bowl he’d been presented with, spun to dive with whiskers dyed red at Zuko, who’d snatched up the towel Chef had set down and caught the wiggly dragon straight out of the air. Shocking everyone, Druk put up with Lord Zuko wiping down his long whiskers and cream-colored mane with patience before he wiggled himself back around Zuko’s throat, now audibly purring. 

“Remember when the Sun Warriors gave me that gemstone at my coronation?”

“They gave you a dragon egg?” Captain Suki said. 

“I didn’t know it was a dragon egg!” Lord Zuko spread his hands open on either side of his breakfast, careful not to raise his voice despite his clear desire to do so. However, as last time he’d raised his voice (bantering with Master Bei Fong before she and Prince Iroh had left for Ba Sing Se) a server had shattered an entire tea set, he’d been noticeably cognisant not to do so. Instead, his scratchy voice lowered to something like a growl, which, when combined with the embarrassed flush across his cheek, made the entire scene shift just that much further into utter ridiculousness. 

“Nobody expects to be given a dragon egg!” He continued. 

“Didn’t you dance with the dragons?” Captain Suki said, exasperated. 

“That’s irrelevant! And it wasn’t a dance!” 

“Who were they going to give it to? Aang?” 

“He’s the avatar! It would make sense! He had one in a past life!” 

Captain Suki put her hands up in surrender, “Alright, fair.”

“Thank you!” He said. 

Druk chose that moment to stick his head out from Lord Zuko’s hair, perched on his shoulder like a gargoyle, and burp a stream of white-hot flames across the room.

“What the hell is that sound?” 

“Druk’s stuck in a tree.” Xian, a guard assigned to patrol the administrative wing said. He was leaning against the doorframe, half-in, half-out of the room taking a break to chat with Mae in her lonely new office. 

The sound was unlike anything she'd ever heard. It fell between a whine and a chirp but pitched so high that it pierced through the walls of Mae's office like an arrow. Her lonely new office, which was still infinitely better than the old offices that sat on the opposite end of the wing, was situated around one of the palaces many courtyards. There wasn’t a turtleduck pond, but she did have beautiful plum trees that grew the sweetest and most fragrant fruit she’d ever had the pleasure of snacking on. 

It was those plums, Xian explained as she slipped on her shoes, that had tempted Druk into attempting to fly from the Fire Lord’s turtleduck garden to her fruit-filled courtyard. 

He’d made it, gorged himself on plums, and then realized how far up the tree he was. 

“You flew all the way here, why can’t you fly down?” Lord Zuko said from his position at the base of the tree. 

Druk whined in reply and Mae could just see one of the topmost branches shake as his ruby-colored body edged forward and then scuttled back. 

“How is your dragon afraid of heights, Zuko?” Captain Suki asked. She was standing beside him, using her fan to shield her eyes from the sun. 

“He can hear you!” Lord Zuko snapped, “He’s self-conscious about it. Be supportive or leave.” 

Captain Suki raised her hands and stepped back, sending a smile and shrug at Xian, Mae, and a pair of maids who’d also stopped to watch Lord Zuko attempt to coax his dragon out of the tree. 

“Druk,” Lord Zuko sighed, rubbing his temple, “One day you’ll have to rely on the strength of your own wings; I won’t be here to catch you. But today’s not that day; I’ll catch you, I promise.” 

He opened his arms up towards the canopy of the tree and wiggled his fingers. Immediately, Druk leapt from the highest branch and opened his tiny wings. While he was only the size of a pygmy puma, he was dense enough to shake a cascade of plums from the lower branches, the impact of which hid the snap of his wings as they caught in the wind. 

Mae and Xian reached for each other at the same time as the pair of maids, entwining their arms anxiously as Druk made a swift, shaky descent down and into Lord Zuko’s arms. 

“Was that so scary?” He asked, scratching under Druk’s chin. 

The pair of maids lost their fight against the coo that Mae herself was struggling to suppress, drawing Captain Suki, Lord Zuko, and Druk’s attention. Lord Zuko’s face bloomed as red as a fire lily and Druk, a ham for attention, wiggled out of Lord Zuko’s arms to perch on his shoulders and extend his wings, flapping them proudly. 

“Excellent job, Master Druk.” Mae said, clapping. Xian copied her immediately, bowing slightly, as the maids followed suit. 

“Yes! Well done, Master Druk!” 

“Good job!” 

Druk puffed up, his whiskers whipping about until he dove down to scamper in a triumphant lap around Lord Zuko’s neck. The Firelord simply widened his stance to maintain his balance, arms poised to catch the dragon should he slip, clearly unable to restrain the smile that lit his face. 

“Such bravery deserves a reward, I think,” Lord Zuko said, the gravel in his voice was just as deep as the pleased rumbling emanating from Druk’s throat as the dragon turned and rubbed his face against Lord Zuko’s scar, “Let’s go see what Chef is making.” 

Mae, Xian, and the maids bowed as Lord Zuko nodded his head towards them and turned to head to the kitchens. Captain Suki gave them all a bright smile and lengthened her stride to catch up with him. 

“You’re spoiling him,” Captain Suki’s voice echoed down the breezeway, chased by the rough bark of Lord Zuko’s laughter. 

“Don’t pretend you don’t!”

Dragons, it was understood, had once been apex predators across the world, not just in the caldera. They'd been built for catching prey, according to the scholars who'd made sketches and measurements and estimates from the trophies brought back to the palace. 

Logically, Druk's prey drive shouldn't have come as a surprise. However, he was regularly bullied by the turtleducks that lived in Lord Zuko's gardens and while his teeth were undoubtedly sharp as knives, his mouth was small enough that he ate dango cut into fourths.

("He's a baby," Lord Zuko had explained, cutting the treat into pieces with a knife he'd manifested from the long sleeves of his robes, "He could choke.") 

Therefore, considering her general dislike of blood and the fact that just the day before she had stifled her own laughter behind her hand while recording Lord Zuko's stilted attempt to give a dragon a pep talk about confidence, Mae felt as though she couldn't be blamed for the scream that shattered morning meditation when she found Druk just outside her office, clearly finishing off the remains of a rat in the middle of a small-scale murder scene. 

The dragon froze with the rat's tail sticking out of his mouth at her scream, curled in the center of the mess with his blood-stained whiskers and mane fanned out in alarm. 

"Agni above, woman, I thought you were being murdered!" Chef snapped. He'd clearly ran over on his way to deliver breakfast, and, judging by the splatter of congee on his apron, had dropped his delivery. 

"Although something definitely got murdered, huh?" His eyebrows rose to his hairline as he took in the scene before dropping a heavy, comforting, hand on her shoulder. 

"Guh!" Mae said, gesturing spastically with both hands; asking multiple wordless questions with a single gesture. How are we supposed to explain this? Is this allowed?  

"I mean, as long as it's not a turtleduck, right? We have traps for rats anyway, this is kinda a two bird, one stone situation." Chef shrugged, then withdrew his hand to crouch before Druk. 

"Lord Druk, well done! Excellent hunting!" 

"Do not encourage such abysmal table manners," Lady Lixia said. 

Chef leapt to his feet with a groan and a terrible crack and Mae spun with him to bow to Lady Lixia, standing behind them. She was markedly unimpressed as she dragged her eyes across them, ending her inspection with her piercing gaze seemingly pinning Druk in place. 

It was to Mae's knowledge, the first time Lady Lixia, the unofficial matriarch of the Fire Palace, had met the baby dragon. 

"Lady Lixia, allow me to introduce Lord Druk, Agni's blessing to Firelord Zuko. Lord Druk, this is the honorable Lady Lixia." Mae said, assuming that it was her duty to perform the formal introduction in the absence of anyone of higher status. 

"'Master' is the title given by the Sun Warriors," Lady Lixia corrected. Stern, but not cruel. 

Mae and Chef bowed in acknowledgment. 

"Young Master, I am honored to meet you." Lady Lixia said and Druk stood immediately, standing at something like attention despite the continuous, curious tilt of his head. His whiskers had edged forward towards her and his tail began to tap rhythmically against the floor. 

"Chef, your towel." Lady Lixia held out a thin hand and Chef immediately handed his hand towel over. With a snap of her wrist, she opened it and held it in front of her expectantly. Druk, used to being wiped down by Lord Zuko, leapt up into her palms. Chef darted forward with a muted squeak of alarm, hands hovering to catch Lady Lixia should she fall under Druk's deceptive weight. 

"Cleanliness is next to godliness," Lady Lixia said, wiping the evidence of Druk's hunt from his scales and face, "As a reflection of Agni on earth it is unbecoming to make such a mess in public. Take care to avoid such a performance in the future." 

She handed the soiled towel back to a gobsmacked Chef, then tucked her arms close to her chest. Druk took the clear invitation and carefully propped his front legs atop her shoulder to nose at the dangling gems from her hairpins, each paw flexed to keep his claws away from the silk of her gown. 

Passenger secured, Lady Lixia offered Mae and Chef a shallow nod before heading down the hallway and towards the stateroom. 

"Ah, Chef?" Lady Lixia said, turning back. As she stopped, her hairpins swung back and forth, catching the morning sun. Druk lifted a paw to swipe at them, entranced.

"My lady?"

"Please bring Lord Zuko pickled ginger with his breakfast this morning, he was looking a touch green." She instructed. 

"Yes, my lady." Chef said.

Lady Lixia nodded, lightly tapped his cheek, and left. Druk cradled carefully, expertly, in her arms. 

Chapter Text

"My Lord," said Minister Lee, "We need to set the date of Princess Azula's trial." 

In the two weeks since Lord Zuko’s coronation he, and by extension Mae, had been working fourteen hour days. She’d watched through bleary, red-rimmed eyes as the tenacious, gravel-throated teenager had dismissed generals, promoted staff, challenged ministers and greeted international dignitaries without even a whiff of the tyrannical fury of his father. He’d listened calmly through meetings laced with such heavily restrained violence that Mae had been unable to stomach her tea, his head tilted slightly to the right. Accusations that would have certainly spelt doom in the presence of his predecessor went widely unpunished and he hadn’t shown anything but mild annoyance; until now. 

"The Princess has been admitted to a psychiatric institute for treatment." Lord Zuko said slowly. The brush he’d been holding was set carefully next to his own notes and his hands slithered under the table as he turned the full force of his attention on Minister Lee. 

"Lord Zuko, she must be brought to trial for her crimes-"

"Crimes?" Lord Zuko asked and the room exploded into a cacophony of voices loud enough that Mae flinched, nearly knocking her teacup over onto her parchment.

"-Earth Kingdom!" One minister shouted. 

"-lightning-"

"-killed the Avatar!"

"Princess Azula was operating under the orders of her Fire Lord." Lord Zuko's voice dropped, and a glance upwards revealed he’d balled his hands into white-knuckled fists under the table. 

The minister’s voices rose again, but their protests died as the sconces in the rooms began to flicker oddly.

It was well known that the ample number of lanterns and sconces in staterooms were to allow frustrated benders to quietly and discreetly calm themselves during stressful meetings. It wasn’t unusual for the lightning to differ in different portions of the room, but the fires were turning white. 

Mae's heart dropped as Lord Zuko took a deep, meditative breath and the light flared with his inhale. The sudden brightness cast strange shadows along his face as he exhaled, steadily lowering the flames back to their normal level. 

The display, in which he’d effortlessly snatched control of every flame in the room, smothered the discussion like a bucket of water. 

"Gentlemen," Lord Zuko spoke quietly, his voice scraping against the silence, "I know that you care deeply for the wellbeing of the Fire Nation and her people. Rest assured that I am well aware of the actions you took and the sacrifices you made to get us to where we are now."

Mae averted her eyes to hide the shock she could feel on her face, but she could hear the sharp intake of breath that shuddered through the room. 

"Some of you have spent decades in service to the Fire Nation and I value your council. However," Lord Zuko took another deep breath and the fires cooled to an unsettling azure blue, "However- As your Fire Lord, I am telling you that this is not up for discussion. My decision has been made and it's final. Princess Azula is fourteen years old. She's fourteen." 

The fires were back to their normal orange hue. 

"Is that understood?" 

The room spoke in chorus, "Yes, my Lord."

The princess was seventeen when she first met Master Druk. 

It was her first visit to the palace in three years. 

As such, Lady Lixia, responding to the near physical waves of anxiety rolling off the Fire Lord, was working double-time to ensure that the palace was spotless, the Princess's itinerary was flawless and more than anything else, 

"You will give the Fire Lord and the Princess space." Lady Lixia had been briefing the cleaning and serving staff but Mae, who'd been walking by, had found herself falling into formation from the authority in Lady Lixia's voice alone. As did several Kyoshi warriors standing behind her and a palace guard. 

Lady Lixia's command was impressive considering that just the week before she'd been found in her private gardens after falling. (The gardener who'd found her had claimed that although she had clearly injured herself, she'd only been furious at her inability to get up.)

Luckily, Ambassador Sokka had introduced an improved design for a wheeled chair for injury recovery several months before, and so Lady Lixia was confined to a bright red chair and had to be pushed about by her new assistant, a large, quiet young man handpicked by the Fire Lord himself. 

"Give not into your urge to gawk!" She continued, "Lastly, should I hear one scrap of facetious foolery in these halls, you will find me most displeased. Have I made myself clear?" 

The captive audience bowed in near-perfect unison, "Yes, Lady Lixia." 

Prince Iroh and Princess Azula arrived shortly before lunch.

Lord Zuko had, predictably, refused breakfast, claiming he was waiting for his uncle and sister, but it was clear that the Firelord was nervous. 

He'd been fiddling with his crown until Druk had draped himself over his hand, demanding attention in a way Mae was confident he'd learned from the palace's pygmy pumas. 

She was absent-mindedly making a note to request more dango for the dragon with her left hand while finishing up her last copy of the morning's briefing with her right when Captain Suki knocked rhythmically at the door.

Druk scrambled immediately to Lord Zuko's shoulders, nosing under his hair to curl around his neck as he all but leapt to his feet. 

"Simmer down," Captain Suki laughed, reaching out to steady him when he tripped over his hem. 

"I- I want this to go well." He grumbled. 

Captain Suki rolled her eyes, opening her mouth to comment when Lady Lixia rolled around the corner with a squeak of wheels and the tinkle of hairpins. 

"Lord Zuko." She lifted her arms and Lord Zuko immediately dropped into a squat to give her access to his hair, collar and crown. 

"Do not lick, Master Druk." She huffed, "It's rude." 

“Lunch has been prepared for you in the turtleduck garden,” She continued, ignoring the dragon’s whine, “Enjoy yourself, Lord Zuko.” 

Lord Zuko lowered his head, slumping, just for a fraction of a moment into her hands. Mae’s heart lurched as Lady Lixia’s face shifted into something unspeakably soft as she slowly, fondly, straightened Lord Zuko’s crown and, when she was satisfied, cupped her hand against his scarred cheek. With an inhale deep enough to shift Druk, he lifted his head and stood. His bow to Lady Lixia with a gravely thanks was far lower than strictly appropriate but before she could respond he’d swept from the room in a flutter of maple red robes, Captain Suki at his heels.

Despite Lady Lixia’s stern warning against the spread of the gossip, the stories of Princess Azula’s visit were known almost as soon as they happened, spreading through the palace like the lightning she was known to wield. 

A gardener was the first to break, unable to contain herself while stopping for breakfast in the kitchens. 

The princess, quieter than any had remembered, her hair long and braided down her back, had reportedly been spending hours in the Firelord’s private gardens, splitting ripe oranges and sweet mangos (prepared, to Chef’s eternal annoyance, by Prince Iroh) with her brother and, to everyone’s delight, Druk. 

“She gave him a chunk of mango and he made that noise, you know? That happy trill sound?” The gardener gushed, calloused hands pressed against her chest as she pressed herself into the corner between the baking prep counter and the storage shelf, hiding in case someone came in. 

“I couldn’t hear the introduction, but she made the same face as Lord Zuko when he’s surprised, you know, the crinkle?” She pointed between her eyes, drawing her eyes together in a surprisingly good impression of the Firelord. 

“But, but, but,” She accepted the glass of water Chef shoved into her palms with a crooked smile and a bob of her head, “Master Druk has been just lounging all over her. Lord Zuko is definitely pleased.” 

Druk was drawn to Princess Azula with a zeal that surprised both the staff and Lord Zuko. When he was inevitably pulled away for a meeting, Druk had exercised his still growing wings to glide from Lord Zuko’s shoulder’s to his sister’s lap, seemingly realizing that he would get more attention from the princess in the sun-drenched gardens than inside the stateroom. 

Ran, a senior server assigned to Lord Zuko’s wing, spent a moment marveling at the difference between the young woman basking in the sun and the pint-sized preteen that had been hauled from the palace, voice shattered from screeching three years before. 

The princess, in Ran’s opinion, was nearly unrecognizable. 

Aside from the fact that she’d allowed her hair to grow to be nearly as long as her brothers and her face was free of the vivid makeup, her very presence was different. Calmer. 

Ran knew that the princess was just as strong, if not stronger than she’d ever been, but with a lapful of a wiggly, purring dragon, which had suddenly decided to go for the princess’s crown, it’d be easy to think she was just another quiet royal. 

“Your Highness,” Ran announced herself with a bow, “May I offer you any refreshments? I have tea and plum tarts. Should it please you, I can have something else prepared.” 

Princess Azula’s gaze sharpened at her approach, but Druk, spotting the assorted treats reserved from him to the side of the tray, trilled happily and scampered over. Ran frowned as the dragon lowered himself and began to wiggle.

“Master Druk, please do not jump.” 

“What is… Is that Zuko’s handwriting?” Princess Azula stood and in one smooth motion scooped Druk up and settled him across her shoulders. The dragon immediately purred loud enough that Ran could hear it from a distance and perched itself on her shoulder. Ran wouldn’t have been able to restrain her smile if she’d tried as she looked down at the careful piping across each of the tarts spelling ‘Happy Birthday, Lala!’ in Lord Zuko’s careful script. 

“Yes, Your Highness.” Ran said, “Lord Zuko helped to make them.” 

‘Helped’ was perhaps overstating Lord Zuko’s role, seeing as he spent most of his impromptu baking lesson practicing with Chef’s piping bag and growing increasingly frustrated at the slope to his work. The selection presented on the tray were the only ones Lord Zuko had deemed acceptable. The rest were used for staff breakfast. (The icing was scraped clean off and fed to a very grateful Druk by a highly amused Chef.)

Princess Azula’s expression twisted as she stared down at the tarts as if they held the secret to the universe. 

“He made...?" She shook her head, lips twisted into something like a smile, "Agni above, sure. Yes.” Princess Azula cleared her throat and took the tray with muted thanks, returning to her blanket in the center of the garden. 

Ran bowed and retreated, heart light as the Princess’s voice rang out. 

“Druk, no, that’s not for you!”

“I cannot believe we danced with dragons.” 

“It wasn’t a dance! You saw it, you participated! It’s not a dance.” 

“Lady Mae,” Princess Azula said, leaning back from her desk to the right of the Firelord, “Note that Zuko’s brain was boiled by dragons. Oh, so tragic.” 

“-Zula.” Lord Zuko sighed and pinched his nose, bracing himself with an elbow on the table in front of him. 

“Someone call for Uncle,” Azula continued, a hand pressed dramatically to her chest, “He needs to be crowned immediately for the good of the Fire Nation.” 

Mae dutifully recorded their bickering, nodding seriously as Chef brought in tea and breakfast for the siblings before the mornings' meetings. Azula would likely leave before the meeting began, but since her discharge, she'd taken to eating with her brother most mornings. 

Azula waited until her brother had his hands full pouring their tea before snatching up his chopsticks and jamming them upright into his bowl of rice. 

"Oh, come on." Lord Zuko growled, but it was pitched too high to be serious. Druk leapt to the table beside him, sniffing curiously at the spread, whiskers twitching. 

"I can still hear his voice," Azula said mournfully. She held one hand dramatically over the table and Druk scrambled to it, chirping as he plopped his head into her open palm. It dropped heavily, Princess Azula, like most, unprepared for just how heavy Druk was becoming. She recovered quickly enough, deftly scooping the dragon off the table and coiling his body around her shoulders like a scarf.

"Guess I'm your new master now, Druk." She declared. 

Druk, who'd adored her since her first visit back to the palace a year ago, simply pressed the flat of his snout under her chin, rumbling hard enough to emit a puff of blue smoke from his nose.

"Your Highness," Chef bowed, gravely serious, "If that's the case we need to discuss Master Druk's food intake, recent budget figures put-" 

"Oh, look!" The Princess said, "Zuzu's alive! Be a dear and send boring reports to him." 

Chef bowed, smirking, and took his leave, leaving Mae with a teacup of her own as he did so. "Works every time." He winked. 

"If you did want to stay, Azula, you know you're welcome to do so." Lord Zuko said, accepting Druk's weight as she extended her arm over his shoulder. He automatically moved his hand up to steady the dragon as Druk draped himself over the Firelord’s shoulder like a living boa, long enough now that his whiskers could curiously poke about the food on the table from his perch. 

“Hard pass, Zuzu.” She dismissed the idea with a flick of her hand, starting in on her breakfast. 

Lord Zuko followed suit after a beat, thoughtlessly offering a small fried fish to Druk. Mae watched his eyes dart over to her and she, as casually as she could, put down her brush to pour herself more tea. 

“Just-” Lord Zuko said quietly, “Whenever you’re ready, know that your seat is always open. It’ll be ready when you are.” 

Princess Azula kept her hair long now and as she tilted her head to look at her brother, it cascaded over her shoulder as an obsidian curtain, hiding her expression. 

“I know,” She drawled, “You’d be lost without me.” 

Lord Zuko hummed in agreement, trying and failing to hide his smile behind his teacup, “True, Lala. Very true.” 

Chapter Text

While Master Bei Fong was the Fire Palace's most frequent guest, Ambassador Sokka was well known as he spent several weeks every summer forcing their overworked Firelord to relax. As soon as the ice melted and the fire lilies began to bloom he sent a letter announcing his trip and prompting Chef to quickly push through a purchase order of supplies in preparation for his arrival.

Luckily, Ambassador Sokka was an easy guest to care for. He brought water tribe delicacies, was straightforward with his requests, and was kind to everyone he met, regardless of their station.

This time he began his visit by bursting into Lord Zuko's gardens during breakfast. 

"Oof, when was the last time you slept, Zuko?" The Ambassador said. 

Mae, who'd been delivering the morning briefings, jolted and dropped the stack of scrolls she'd been carrying. Princess Azula managed to snatch several out of the air, but Lord Zuko reacted a second too late and they rained down upon him, Druk, and an unlucky turtleduck with several soft thunks. 

"Big blue, how ya doin'?" Ambassador Sokka continued.

“It entirely depends on how the rest of this conversation goes.” The princess drawled. She pushed Lord Zuko’s teacup out of harm's way as he struggled to reorganize his desk with Mae’s additions and climb to his feet at the same time. Despite his struggle to keep the scrolls from rolling off his desk, he was smiling.

“When did you get here?”

"Just now." The ambassador replied. His eyes tracked the Firelord's clumsy fingers with a growing frown. "Have you slept-" 

"The reparations update is due next month," Lord Zuko interrupted, "I'm trying to make sure we're prepared." 

"He means 'no', obviously." The Princess rolled her eyes at the betrayed look her brother threw at her as Ambassador Sokka made an exaggerated 'aha!' sound. 

“He’s your problem now.” She scoffed. She rose gracefully to her feet, pinned the wayward scrolls under her arm, stole her brother’s tea and motioned shortly for Mae to follow.

"I've arrived in the nick of time!” Ambassador Sokka exclaimed, “Operation Summer Simmer Down is a go!" 

“Lord Zuko, are you quite alright?” Lady Lixia’s voice was mild despite the lift to her eyebrow and Mae found herself sincerely struggling to contain a fierce bout of the giggles as Lord Zuko turned an even darker shade of red. His flush coupled with the fact that Ambassador Sokka had him slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes made quite the sight. 

“Yes, Lady Lixia.” Lord Zuko said. He was clearly trying to maintain some semblance of dignity, but Ambassador Sokka was bouncing on the balls of his feet, casually driving his shoulder into the Firelord’s stomach and forcing out a sound that was something like a squeak every few seconds and ruining his attempts to put his crown back into his ruined topknot.

“We’re going to get lunch and then we’re going to unwind with some sword bending and then, a nap in the sun.” 

"I don't need a nap! I'm not an infant!" Lord Zuko thrashed, but Ambassador Sokka had sprouted over the previous winter to be notably taller than the Firelord and he rode out the wiggling as if he were holding a toddler.

"Very good, Ambassador Sokka." Lady Lixia bowed her head slightly in approval and stepped forward to take Lord Zuko’s crown from his hand before he dropped it.

"Just Sokka," He replied, freeing one hand to rub at the back of his neck, "Please." 

Lady Lixia hummed and Ambassador Sokka bent in an awkward bow, tipping Lord Zuko to make him squawk in alarm, scrambling for purchase on the ambassador's back. With a 'hup!' the ambassador resettled him and all but ran off cackling. 

"A well-deserved rest," Lady Lixia said as she watched them go, unphased as Lord Zuko began shouting. "Come, Mae. We've much to discuss." 

"Dude, do you seriously make your grandma call you Lord Zuko?" 

Chef, who'd decided to personally take the Fire Lord and the water tribesmen their lunch, paused in the shade of the doorway to the training arena and pressed himself into the shadows to shamelessly eavesdrop.

"Huh? Who?" Lord Zuko's voice had warmed up for the day from his outraged shouts earlier, smoothing it to something more like gravel than the jagged boulders he usually coughed through each morning. 

"Lady Lixia? Your grandma?" 

Chef's mother had scolded him when he was younger for taking the Spirits names in vain, claiming that speaking of them would cause them to appear. Her warning rang true as Lady Lixia suddenly appeared at his elbow and nearly made him fumble the tray of spicy noodles. 

Lord Zuko had commissioned a beautiful cane for her during the last Fire Lily festival. The dark mahogany was carved into the shape of a veritable field of fire lilies, the space between them hollowed out to ensure it was lightweight but sturdy. The golden tip was muffled, he remembered, by a textured rubber plug, which explained her near-silent movement. How she’d managed to silence the usually warning chimes of her hairpins, however, was a mystery. 

Lady Lixia lifted a delicate, unimpressed eyebrow at him, clearly gathering herself to scold him, when Lord Zuko spoke up again, his bewildered tone echoing through the empty training arena. 

"Lady Lixia isn't my grandmother, Sokka." 

"Uh, you sure about that, bud?" 

"Am I-? Yes!"

"I'm just saying," Chef could hear the ambassador’s signature shrug in his voice, "She's obviously your matriarch. Don't make that face at me. She's the oldest person here?"

"Yes." 

"She lives here?" 

"Yes." 

"Besides you, she has the most authority? Uh uh, titles don't matter-"

"I mean, I guess?" 

Chef locked eyes with Lady Lixia, unable to parse anything but mild interest from her infamously even expression, but her hand was tight around the handle of her cane. Most tellingly, however, was that she hadn't moved. 

Chef was delighted.

"She approves of your clothes, fixes your hair, runs the palace, pats your cheeks, and loves you. Dude, that's your grandma." Ambassador Sokka said and behind the pillar Chef was blessed to watch as Lady Lixia's stoicism melted from her face, leaving behind something so painfully fond that Chef felt his heart somersault in his chest. 

"You're doing your emotion face, don't do that. Zuko, you're as dense as a rock. Uncle is your Uncle. Lady Lixia is your Lady Lixia." 

"Yeah, I- I guess I just hadn't realized." Lord Zuko said wonderingly. 

"You, uh, spirits. Katara would be better at this." The ambassador groaned, "Zuko, bud, there's more to family than the people you're born with; you can make your own. You can build it, or pick it. I, uh-. Zuko. You know that you're family, right? My family? Me and you and Katara and Aang and Toph, we're a family."

Lord Zuko's voice was unmistakably watery as he replied, "Yeah? Yes."

Lady Lixia had heard enough and lifted her cane to wack the back of Chef's leg to get him moving. 

"Ow!" Chef yelped and scuttled forward, blinking at the sudden brightness. "I mean, Your Majesty, lunch!"

 Lord Zuko and Ambassador Sokka jumped, then twitched again as Lady Lixia came around the pillar herself. 

Lord Zuko and Ambassador Sokka were, as Chef had imagined, seated side by side with their practice blades abandoned beside them and soaked with sweat from the midday sun. It was good, he thought, that he’d gone heavy on the protein. 

“Lord Zuko,” Lady Lixia said, “Princess Azula has decided to dine with guests this evening and requested to use your normal sitting room. I’ve taken the liberty of arranging for dinner to be served by the turtleduck ponds instead for you and Ambassador Sokka.” 

“Ooh, I wonder how Firelily the 5th is doing.” The ambassador mused, completely ignoring the journey that Lord Zuko’s face took as they climbed to their feet. Chef threw the Firelord his best approximation reassuring smile as he set their lunch down at a small, shaded table and bowed.

“Thank you, Chef.” He said first. He fidgeted, looking over his shoulder until Ambassador Sokka slapped a hand on his shoulder and used it to gently shove him forward. It seemed to settle something in his expression, melting the mild panic and making way for something that was equal parts warm and determined. 

Lord Zuko rolled his shoulders back and bent into a bow, “Thank you, Lady Lixia. For, uh, for everything.” 

"Oh, Zuko." Lady Lixia stepped forward without hesitation and cupped his face between her trembling hands. Chef could feel his jaw-dropping at the lack of title as Ambassador Sokka looked on with a grin, "It is my pleasure." 

Chapter Text

"We're having trouble with recruitment." Chef said, his mouth twisted as he tried to morph his grimace into something more optimistic. "Even with the... reduced need, I'm critically understaffed."

"The pay isn't the issue." Lady Ito added, accepting the tea Chef poured for her with a nod, "Others I've spoken to have cited that they would need to find childcare." 

"We have tutors on staff." Lord Zuko said. 

"Had, Lord Zuko," Last Lixia corrected, drawing the eyes of the room, "We had tutors." 

That she didn't elaborate on what had happened to them was telling, and Mae noted the omission with tightly controlled strokes of her brush.

The others clustered around the table and began speaking as one, and Mae struggled to capture the multitude of opinions spilling across the table. Unspoken, however, was that there would undoubtedly be those who would never allow their children within the Firelord's reach. 

"We need staff," Lord Zuko said, openly frustrated. He'd begun to wilt, leaning to the side and supporting himself on his elbow with a furrow between his eyebrows that suggested he was in pain. She wasn't sure if Master Katara knew he was out of bed. "If the barrier to their application is the need to care for a child, then we should provide it. It's that simple." 

Across the glossy top of the red wooden table, Mae watched a soft smile bloom on Minister Ayaka's face. New to her position and responsible for developing a new, propaganda-free school curriculum, she was just as bold and outspoken as her role demanded. Therefore, when Minister Ayaka leaned forward and cut off the grumbling members of the committee, Mae wasn't surprised.

"I know of several tutors willing to work within the Palace," She slid a scroll to Lady Lixia with a nod, "And I've compiled a list of currently unused rooms that could easily be converted into classrooms or playrooms." 

Lord Zuko's shoulders dropped as he smiled faintly and gestured towards the accountant seated to his left, "Get her everything she needs."

Despite Lord Zuko's well-documented disdain for galas and other "stuffy excuses to spend money," he was aware that the influential nobility of the Fire Nation had certain expectations that needed to be met if he wanted to ensure their continued cooperation. 

Master Bei Fong, who'd been staying often enough at the palace to warrant her own set of rooms in the family wing, had accidentally provided the theme behind their soiree at an unofficial planning meeting over tea the months before. 

"Nothing makes rich people happier than one-upping each other," She'd said, lounging as was her custom under the Fire Lord's arm. She seemed peacefully oblivious to the open-mouth awe dawning on the Firelord's face, "Just let them compete with money, like an auction or something, and they'll do the rest themselves." 

Months later, the treasury assistants flushed with pleasure as they watched the assembled crowd fight viciously in the unsettlingly reserved way of the passive aggressive over art made by war orphans. The auction proceeds would directly fund the orphanages in which they lived. Lord Zuko and his honored guests had attended the first half of the festivities, shaking hands, mingling, and growing visibly bored until Captain Suki swept them all out of the main ballroom and into the branching gardens backing the space. Mae and her assistant, Yara, were hiding in the corner, exhausted from the pageantry, while their fellows took over recording the unofficial minutes. 

She was swinging her legs over the side of the engawa, shoes abandoned neatly beside her when she spotted Lord Zuko and his friends slip around the corner to circle up under the lanterns framing the garden's back well. She moved to stand but settled with Lord Zuko, who glanced her way, pinpointed her in the relative darkness of his hideout with his golden eyes, and shook his head with a smile. 

On the roof above, Kyoshi Warriors settled into position, the moon glinting off their headbands as they swept the garden for threats. The music and the general din of the ballroom in the distance melted into a comforting hum of life. It had been a long time since the palace had been so full. She hadn't realized that she'd missed the buzz of activity until it was gone.

Mae let her eyes slip closed, breathing in the crisp evening air and laughter of her Firelord until she felt a sharp tug on her sleeve. 

"Lady Mae," Yara whispered, "Look!" 

A little boy, a toddler really, was making an unsteady beeline across the gardens towards Lord Zuko. He was all done up like a little lord in crimson silks and golden ribbons that ultimately made him look like a little festive balloon. A little balloon that, as he threw himself against the Fire Lord's legs, was highly upset. 

Lord Zuko, to her surprise, did not start when the child slammed into his leg. His eyebrow jumped, but he looked down with nothing but curiosity at the little boy gripping the hem of his robe in a death grip. 

Mae heard the group tittering, but Lord Zuko handed his glass off to Master Katara without looking before bending low to scoop the child up and onto his hip in a practiced motion. 

"I'm sorry," he said softly, "I'm not her." 

The boy's eyes grew enormous as tears began to drip freely down his face. But as Master Katara reached for him, cooing, the child whined and curled himself into the Firelord, fingers tightening against his collar. 

"I've got him." Lord Zuko said. He'd turned his body away and began to sway, a hand rubbing gentle circles along the boy's back. 

"Rejected!" Ambassador Sokka cackled but yelped when his sister turned to punch him in the arm, scowling. 

"We are still at a formal function." Captain Suki hissed as she swept up behind them. "Besides, what do you expect? You're wearing blue." 

The trio continued bickering, but Mae's eyes tracked the Firelord as he retreated a few steps to stand under the warmth of a nearby lantern. He breathed in deeply, and the lanterns around them flared up, casting warmth and light over their entire corner.

"Lady Mae," He called. Mae started but jumped to attend to him, stopping momentarily when Yara poked her in the back with her shoes. 

"Yes, Lord Zuko?" 

"Do you know who he's with?" The little boy's sniffles were soaking the Fire Lord's shoulder, but he made no indication that he either cared or noticed. 

"No, my Lord," Mae bowed, "but I can certainly find out." 

Lord Zuko smiled, then wiggled his shoulder. Druk, pretending to be a necklace for the evening, slithered smoothly to the shoulder opposite the boy and chirped curiously. It was enough to cause the boy to lift his head with a small gasp. 

"Hello there." Lord Zuko said, "I'm Zuko and this is Druk. Can you say hello to Druk?" 

Mae's heart felt like it was growing large enough to spill out of her throat as the boy waved his tiny hand in an even tinier wave. 

"For us to be introduced, I need to know your name. Can you tell me your name?" 

Mae turned at the sound of a squeak behind her to see that another Kyoshi warrior had joined the Firelord's friends, forming a protective half circle a few feet away. The newest addition pressed one hand to her chest, grinning in evident delight. 

Lord Zuko ignored them in favor of leaning close to catch the little boy's whisper. 

"Hotaru? That's a wonderful name." Lord Zuko nodded thoughtfully, ignoring the cooing from the gathered group as Hotaru smiled shyly, ducking his head. "Hotaru, can I ask you to help me? My friend, Lady Mae- do you want to say hi to Lady Mae?" 

Hotaru hid his face against Lord Zuko's shoulder again but tilted his head, so one bright hazel eye was visible as he waved. 

The urge to squeeze him like a stuffed pygmy puma was reaching near irresistible levels. Mae bowed, trying to cover her likely manic grin. "I am honored to meet you, Young Master Hotaru." 

"Lady Mae is going to find your family for me. Do you know what your last name is? No? That's alright. Lady Mae is very smart, she can find them." Lord Zuko's calm voice and the light of the fire above them had seemingly done wonders to soothe the child who, despite his shyness, was visibly relaxing. 

"In the meantime, could I ask you to help my friend Druk? You see, people are very warm and Druk is very little, so if you hold him he'll be much more comfortable. Do you want to help Druk by holding him?" 

"Yes!" Hotaru snapped upright and opened one hand towards the baby dragon. Druk shot forward, crawling over Lord Zuko's shoulders, under the curtain of hair left out of his elaborate braids, and under Hotaru's arm to curl against his chest. Immediately, Druk began the rumbling purr that meant he was happy and began licking the boy's cheeks, causing the child to squeal with laughter.

"Remember, gentle." Lord Zuko said, "Don't squeeze." 

Mae stepped back and dismissed herself with a bow to find the boy's mother. 

"Zuko? A child whisperer?" Ambassador Sokka said. 

"I have a little sister too, Sokka." 

 Finding Hotaru's mother was simply a matter of walking into the grand ballroom and pinpointing the pale, trembling woman ducking frantically under the catering tables.

"Excuse me," Mae said, "Are you looking for..." 

"My son! Have you seen my son?" Her voice was pitched to match the general din of the room, but she'd abandoned her sense of decorum judging by the trembling grip she'd had on Mae's arm.

"Yes, he's safe. He's with the Firelord pl-" 

The grip tightened, and Mae fought a grimace, "Excuse me?" 

"Your skirts are the same color as Lord Zuko's robes," Mae placed her hand atop the woman's, using it to guide her out of the room, "I think Hotaru got confused. The world looks different when you're so small!" 

The women did not smile at Mae's attempt at a joke. 

As they swept into the garden, out from the ballroom's brilliant lights and into the glow of the elaborate hanging lanterns, Hotaru perked up from the cradle of Lord Zuko's arms, lifting Druk like an oversized, overcooked noodle. "Mama!"  

The dragon didn't bother to look up from where it was licking at the child's hair, which, judging by the disarray of the boy's bangs, he'd been working at for some time.

Hotaru's mother's frantic flight slowed as she finally seemed to take notice of the Fire Lord's company. 

"Lady Sato," Lord Zuko returned the bow the woman had dropped into and immediately moved to transfer Hotaru into her arms. Druk leapt back to Lord Zuko's shoulder as Hotaru released him in favor of burying his hands into his mother's robe, beaming. 

"Lord Zuko, my deepest apologies-" Lady Sato said, but Lord Zuko put both his hands up and a disarming smile. 

"Please don't apologize, Hotaru was an excellent conversation partner." 

"Better than those stuffy old nerds back there," Master Bei Fong snorted. Ambassador Sokka hissed and gently checked her.

"Do you know each other?" Master Katara asked. Her pleasant tone didn't change even as she roughly elbowed her brother in the gut.

"Yes," Lord Zuko said, "Lady Sato was one of my tutors before..." 

He hesitated, mouth pursed as Ambassador Sokka set a heavy hand on his shoulder. The two shared a smile before Lord Zuko took a breath. "She was one of my tutors Before." 

"Mama!" Hotaru pointed at Lord Zuko, "Su-Shu-" He pursed his lips together, eyes squinted in frustration.

"Firelord Zuko," Lady Sato said, pronouncing the name slowly, voice thick with relief and affection, "Zuko."

"Zu-" Hotaru's little nose scrunched up as he attempted to mimic his mother, "Su... Shu... Zu! Zuzu!" 

The Kyoshi warrior Mae didn't recognize sucked in a sharp breath as something cracked and splintered on Lord Zuko's face. He blinked rapidly, watching as Hotaru clapped his hands in victory, tugging at his mother's collar to explain that 'Zuzu has a baby! Baby dragon!' 

Druk stuck his head out, wiggling his whiskers out and just avoiding the boy's grasping hands. 

"Ah, my apol-" Lady Sato began, but Lord Zuko cut her off. 

"Please, don't. My, uh- Princess Azula used to call me that when she was young." His voice was pitched down low, the rasp of it nearly obscuring the words, but Lady Sato's face cracked open. The last of the tension in her shoulders drained away even as she straightened her posture. 

"Firelord Zuko," she said, shifting her grip on her son as he curled against her with a sudden yawn, "I've heard that the palace is hiring tutors." 

Mae felt her mouth cracking into a grin, and she turned to gesture for Yara to join her as Lady Sato continued. 

"Are those positions still open?"