Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Every year, Sokka packs up to leave his post as an ambassador for a few months, and Zuko is left with warring emotions. On the one hand, Sokka is hands-down Zuko’s favourite person in the world. Yes, Sokka is undeniably insufferable, but somehow his insufferability fills Zuko with warmth nowadays. And honestly, Sokka is half of the reason that Zuko has survived into his fifth year as Fire Lord - both due to Sokka’s attention to Zuko’s physical safety, and due to him keeping Zuko from going insane. 

On the other hand, Sokka’s yearly trip to the Southern Water Tribe means that he switches places with Katara. And while all of Zuko’s friends make a habit of coming to the palace several times a year, and they often arrange to cross paths with Zuko and Sokka when they’re on diplomatic journeys, it’s also the only extended time that Zuko gets to spend with Katara.

It took them three years to get this pattern down. Zuko is really happy with it. The first two years were a little rocky, especially because Zuko got the impression that his friends were constantly babysitting him, but they’ve all grown together enough for this to make sense. And he knows it makes Sokka happy, too, to be able to split his time between the places he feels he belongs. 

But the night before Sokka leaves is always a little… tricky.

“I could just wait a few days,” Sokka suggests from where he is lounging on the bed. Zuko looks up from his desk for a moment and raises his eyebrow. 

“Or you could actually pack, instead of doing… whatever this is.” Zuko casts a look around Sokka’s room, which has seemed to have suffered a mild, flameless explosion. 

Sokka lifts his hands into the air dramatically. He’s lying the wrong way on the bed, with his head hanging off the mattress to look at Zuko upside down. It’s the only Sokka-shaped space on the bed, due to the aforementioned mild explosion of belongings. 

“I have deconstructed my room, so that I can reconstruct it into luggage,” Sokka explains.

Zuko looks back down to his report and attempts to conceal a smile. 

Zuko doesn’t actually have time to stop working, but he wants to keep Sokka company, and Sokka never minds when Zuko has to balance reading reports with snatches of conversation. That’s why Zuko has a desk in Sokka’s bedroom. It was another great idea of Sokka’s, two years into his life in the Fire Nation. 

He puts the report to one side and goes back to combing through the details on the latest draft of a ruling. Zuko is confident that it’s solid because Sokka looked it over for him earlier. It just needs a quick check and royal approval. 

“If I wait a few days, I can spend some time with Katara,” Sokka says, as if they don’t have this conversation every year.

“You’re going to spend time with Katara when you come back,” Zuko reminds him. “And Gran Gran is expecting you.” 

There’s a brief pause, and Zuko looks back to Sokka to find that he’s beaming. His hair is making a decent attempt at escaping from his wolf tail, aided by gravity, and Sokka’s expression makes something pleasant buzz under Zuko’s skin. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love that you call her Gran Gran?” 

“You call my uncle ‘Uncle’,” Zuko points out. “And your grandmother gets all huffy if I call her anything else.”

“Yeah, but Uncle is everyone’s uncle,” Sokka insists, waving a hand in the air again. It’s a thing that Sokka does: speaking with his hands. It took Zuko a long time to understand that he isn’t just flailing. Every motion explains something, like emphasis or emotion. It’s just a language that Zuko has only half learned. “Not everyone gets to call Gran Gran ‘Gran Gran’. It’s because she likes you.” 

Zuko ducks his head, forcing himself to look away from Sokka before the fact that he’s going to be missing him soon just bursts right out of him. “I threatened her when we first met,” he points out, vaguely guilty in a way that he always feels when it comes to Kanna. Zuko thinks that the constant presence of her guilt is why she insists that he calls her ‘Gran Gran’. 

“Yeah,” Sokka agrees. “You also knocked down our wall, kicked my ass in front of everyone, and kidnapped the Avatar.” Zuko wants to flinch, but he knows that this isn’t the end of Sokka’s point, because he knows Sokka - so he waits. “You know, from Gran Gran’s perspective, you were barely an infant when that happened. The fact that you grew up to throw off all the brainwashing and save the world is pretty impressive. From her perspective, I mean.” 

Zuko’s guilt never quite recedes. It’s an ever-steady presence in his life, ready to swell up at any moment. But somehow, Sokka always makes him feel like it’s surmountable. Like it can be channeled for good, like its presence is proof that he is good. 

“I’m going to miss you,” Zuko finds himself saying. The words fall out of him without permission, but he can’t find it in himself to regret it, because it’s true. 

“Aww,” Sokka says, launching himself up to standing and stumbling over his own belongings on the way to Zuko’s desk. He perches himself on the corner, face a little red from where he was previously upside down, and looks at Zuko for a long, extended moment. There’s something soft in Sokka’s smile, something that looks both happy and sad, like maybe Sokka already misses Zuko, too.

And then Sokka reaches out, and even though it’s a hand reaching to the left side of Zuko’s face, there’s nothing in Zuko that wants to flinch away. Sokka brushes some of Zuko’s loose hair away from his temple and tucks it behind his ear, and lets his fingers linger there for a moment.

“I’m going to miss you, too,” Sokka admits. 

And the moment is too heavy somehow, like they’re both waiting, even though Zuko doesn’t know exactly what they’re waiting for. Zuko holds Sokka’s eye contact, despite the fact that this has never been easy for him to do, because everything is easier with Sokka. Everything. Zuko doesn’t know how he got this lucky, thinks that he must have used up all of his bad luck in his childhood so that he can have this now, thinks that if that’s the case then it was worth it. 

Sokka clears his throat, and his hand drops. How long had Sokka’s hand been there, fingers feather-light as they lingered at the hinge of Zuko’s jaw? Zuko shakes himself back into the present moment, and looks back down to the work spread across his desk in Sokka’s room.

“If you give me a little while to finish reading these over, I can help you ‘reconstruct’ your luggage,” Zuko says. 

“Sure,” Sokka replies, standing up from Zuko’s desk. “Yeah. And it’s fine that I’m not seeing Katara right now, even though she and Aang just broke up, right? It doesn’t, like, make me a bad brother or something?”

Zuko frowns. “They broke up again?” he asks. 

“Yeah, didn’t you read her last letter to us?” Sokka rolls his eyes at Zuko’s guilty expression. “It’s fine - I’ll find it for you. It’s somewhere in the deconstruction. Yeah, they’re ‘taking a break’ again.”

Zuko adds some notes to the draft he’s working through, allowing his mind to focus for a moment on the minor adjustment, before returning to Sokka. “It doesn’t make you a bad brother,” Zuko assures him. “Katara and Aang are just going through a phase. It’s hard to be teenagers with the kinds of responsibilities they have, and also figure out how relationships are supposed to work.”

Sokka looks back at him from where he’s hastily folding his heaviest cloak. “Yeah? Is that why you’ve always had an excuse ready for when the whole ‘royal bride’ question comes up?” he asks. Half his mouth lifts in a teasing smile, but Zuko can read curiosity there, too. 

Zuko should tell him. Probably. Definitely. But now is not the right time to disclose to Sokka that Zuko thinks he might not be looking for a royal bride because he isn’t sure he wants a bride rather than a-- well. 

Zuko changed the law on same-sex relationships pretty swiftly upon ascending the Dragon Throne, not least of all because of an intense conversation with Ty Lee - a person he hadn’t known could be intense - about how nobody had ever explained to her that some people like both men and women. He would have changed the law anyway, but the image of Ty Lee biting her fingernails upon recognising where her own confession was going fueled his haste in getting it done. But there’s a difference between decriminalising relationships and allowing for marriages (and the latter had taken quite some convincing, that first year, to old advisors and stuffy religious leaders), and allowing for same-sex royal marriages. 

Zuko should tell Sokka, because he knows that Sokka will be supportive. He’ll come up with a hundred and one plans and help Zuko with a way forward. He’ll listen when Zuko is frustrated, and provide comfort instead of solutions when that’s what Zuko needs. Zuko knows all of this. 

But Zuko also knows that Sokka will start reconsidering the way that they are around one another. Sokka will start wondering about whether they’re too emotionally intimate, too physically close, too easy with one another. And he won’t pull away in any big, dramatic way, because Sokka is too good for that - but he will pull away. 

Zuko will tell him. Just… not yet.

“Well,” Zuko says with an approximation of a smile, “Mai taught me a lot about how relationships don’t work.” And Sokka laughs at that, because Zuko and Mai had been deliriously happy up until the moment they’d realised that they were happy because they were best friends, and not because they were actually in love. And when they had shifted into a non-romantic relationship and almost nothing changed, it really solidified for Zuko that he has no idea how relationships work at all. 

“Where are my good boots?” Sokka asks off-handedly, head stuck in one of his wardrobes. “If I go to the South Pole in Fire Nation boots, my toes are going to last approximately no time at all because they will spontaneously evacuate.”

Zuko lifts the parchment to his right, double-checking the most recent numbers he’s received. 

“You put them in the ‘fancy’ wardrobe,” he says.

“I did what?” Sokka pulls his head out of the wardrobe. “Why would I put them in there?”

Zuko hesitates, but the numbers match, so he puts the scroll back down.

“You said you’d never find them among all your other boots, so you’d put them with the ‘fancy nonsense shoes’ so they’d stand out.”

Zuko nods at the words before him, finally happy for this draft to be presented in the morning. He puts it to one side and looks up, only to find that Sokka hasn’t moved from the wardrobe. He still has one hand on the wooden frame as he looks over at Zuko, a warm expression on his face. 

“What?” Zuko asks, and Sokka shakes his head.

“Have you eaten yet?” Sokka asks, and then doesn’t bother to wait for an answer: “I’ll get something brought here for us.”

Zuko watches Sokka walk to the door in order to make his request to one of the guards outside. And yeah, he already misses Sokka because he knows he’ll be gone in the morning, but it’s hard to feel sad about missing someone when they’re right in front of you. 

Sokka leaves in the morning. Zuko says goodbye to him at the ship, allowing for one last, lingering hug to get him through the upcoming Sokka-less months.

“And hey, you know you can actually write letters too, right? Don’t just get Katara to write the letters like you always do. I like your weird, posh writing.” 

Zuko pulls back just far enough to look Sokka in the eye. “Making fun of my writing is a really smart move if you want letters from me,” he points out, and Sokka grins.

“Aw, you love it, don’t lie.” He tugs at the collar of Zuko’s robes. “You wouldn’t be so close with Toph if you couldn’t take a little mockery. Oh! We’re going to see Toph so soon, too. Man, I wish we could all get together more often.”

Zuko smiles. This is becoming a yearly tradition, too: Sokka returns for the anniversary festival of the end of the war, and all of their friends get to be together in one place. While Zuko does get to see everyone on a fairly regular basis, it’s still rare for them all to be together. And Zuko never feels more alive than when everyone he loves is in one place.

This year, Azula hasn’t responded to the invitation with an immediate ‘get lost’, so Zuko even has reason to be hopeful there. 

“Soon,” Zuko promises. 

“Soon,” Sokka agrees, and then he pushes into Zuko’s space to do the familial Water Tribe nose-rub thing that always makes Zuko want to implode a little. He just loves being this close to Sokka, and yes, maybe he loves it a little too much - but nobody ever needs to know that. 

“Am I going to get a weirdly intimate goodbye too, Sokka?” a voice calls out, and Zuko wills the heat away from his cheeks as they look up to see Suki approaching. 

“Aw, are you jealous, Suks? Get in here!” Sokka invites, lifting one arm from Zuko and reeling Suki in. Suki laughs, her head squished between their shoulders. “You need to look after our boy while I’m away, okay?”

“Looking after your boy is my literal job,” Suki points out. “If he dies, I’m out of work.”

Zuko curls his arm around her, carefully avoiding getting caught by her sharp fan. “I can look after myself,” he points out. He turns a glare onto Sokka, who he assumes is about to protest, only to find that Sokka is frowning pointedly at Suki with a deep blush staining his cheekbones. 

Ah, great. Zuko has missed something occurring in this conversation. 

And then, abruptly, it really is time for Sokka to go. He knocks his forehead against Zuko’s in a way that reminds Zuko of a cat owl, and then musses up Suki’s hair and has to dodge her half-hearted retaliation. 

And then Sokka is gone, the last of his laughter echoing in Zuko’s ears, and he isn’t going to see Sokka for months. Zuko lets Suki pull him close into her side, because while it’s unprofessional, most of his court have accepted that crowning a sixteen-year-old meant accepting some atypical behaviour from the Fire Lord - and Zuko’s friends have long been affectionate to the point of absurdity. 

“You okay?” Suki asks, voice low enough that the other guards won’t be able to hear. 

Zuko nods. “Yeah. I’ve got to get back to meetings.” 

“I know,” Suki replies. “But it’s also okay to be sad. I know it’s hard for you two to say goodbye. Spirits know Sokka always gets so anxious about leaving you.” She knocks her hip into his. “But you’ve still got me, and Katara will be here in two days.” 

And then, in a few months, everyone will be here. Katara and Suki will be here, and Sokka will return, and Aang and Toph will fly in on Appa. And Mai and Ty Lee might even be able to convince Azula to come back to the palace, just for a day or two, if she’s up to it. 

“Come on,” Suki says. “Let’s go find Uncle. He’ll make the meetings more bearable.” 

It’s like Sokka’s departure breaks a seal on the marriage conversation all over again.

“Fire Lord Zuko is only twenty-one,” Uncle Iroh reminds everyone, spreading his hands in a calming gesture. “He is still young for conversations about marriage.” 

“And I don’t want my marriage to be arranged,” Zuko adds, maybe a little less calmly than Uncle. His parents’ marriage was arranged, and it was nothing but awful for Mother. Anyone might feel obligated to a marriage with the Fire Lord if it’s proposed, and the idea of that makes Zuko’s stomach turn. Even if he was interested in marrying a woman, and even if he was okay with the idea of having his advisors choose someone, he isn’t going to put anyone in that position.

“We understand, of course,” General Shoji responds, not sounding like he understands at all. “But it is prudent to find a good match for you, and to secure the line of succession. General Iroh and Princess Azula are currently the only options we have, and the princess is no more interested in a match than you are.” 

Zuko’s glare deepens. “Have you been talking to her about this? Azula doesn’t need to be bothered with questions about the royal succession.” 

Azula’s recovery has been slow and non-linear, and the last thing she needs is to think that the weight of the Fire Nation’s future is on her back. She needs to be able to figure out what it means to be Azula without all of that. 

Which means that maybe Zuko needs to take this all a little more seriously. 

Zuko slumps back in his seat, only half listening as his advisors assure him that they have been leaving Azula alone as commanded. He pinches the bridge of his nose, nodding at appropriate points, and then dismisses everyone as soon as he can get away with it.

“You know,” Uncle Iroh says, pouring a fresh cup of tea, “arranging a marriage is not your only option. You may consider… courting someone.” 

Zuko sighs, but he also accepts the offer of tea. The warm cup feels good between his palms. 

“They’re worried I’ll choose someone inappropriate, I guess,” he says. 

“Inappropriate?” Uncle Iroh asks, and Zuko looks up to find a twinkle in his Uncle’s eye.

Does he know that Zuko means that a match might not be female? Would he care?

“I don’t know,” Zuko adds, awkwardly. “Like someone who isn’t from the Fire Nation, since so many of my friends aren’t from here. Or someone who isn’t…” He hesitates, glancing up at Uncle Iroh and away again. “Um. Who might make the line of succession… more complicated.”

“Ah.” Uncle Iroh takes a sip of his tea. “You mean like a… waterbender.”

Zuko grasps onto the rope he’s been tossed in the conversation. “Right! A waterbending child in the line of succession would be a problem.”

Uncle Iroh hums, quiet for a long moment, and then says: “Well, yes, but children don’t need to come from the womb of a marriage, as long as they are legitimately heired by you.”

“Uncle!” Zuko protests.

“There have been surrogates in the royal line before, dear nephew,” Uncle Iroh explains. “And it needn’t be the result of anything… unsavoury. There are devices for--”

“Stop, stop talking,” Zuko insists. “Okay. I get it. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if I married a… waterbender.” He clears his throat. “It wouldn't be the worst thing for the line of succession.”

Uncle Iroh chuckles. “Some people wouldn’t be happy, but nephew - I am more concerned for your happiness than theirs. There is much you have been forced to give up in life, for the sake of duty.” He reaches forward and places a hand on Zuko’s wrist. “This does not need to be one of those things. And a good match… can make your life of duty much easier.” 

Zuko smiles, thinking about how much easier life is with Sokka around. 

(Not that… Obviously, not that Sokka is an option.)

“Yeah,” Zuko replies. “I get that. Thanks, Uncle.”

Uncle squeezes Zuko’s wrist, and then lets him go. “And if there is ever a nice Water Tribe friend you would like to introduce me to in that capacity. I would perhaps be less scandalised than you expect.” 

Zuko nods at his guards to let in his next meeting, and then eyes Uncle Iroh as he exits the room, wondering.

Katara arrives early the next evening. 

Zuko is not informed immediately, because he’s deep in discussion about tree law at the time. Sometimes, being the Fire Lord is the least interesting job in the world. If Sokka were here, he would find a way to make tree law seem interesting, but as it is, Zuko is trying to force himself to pay attention for long enough to discern why the existing rules aren’t working. 

And then the meeting closes, Zuko rubs at his temples to ease his stress headache, and then he finds himself with an armful of Katara. 

Zuko’s guards don’t even react. It would be so, so easy for any of Zuko’s friends to assassinate him. 

“Hey, Katara,” Zuko greets, folding his arms around her. “It’s so good to see you. Did you find your rooms already? Have you eaten?”

“I waited for you,” Katara responds. She pulls back, and then adds in a low tone: “You look tired.”

“I have one more meeting and some papers before I can retire for the evening,” Zuko replies, ignoring her comment on his appearance. “But Suki is off-duty, so you could have dinner with her, and I’ll join you afterwards?” 

“We’ll have dinner waiting.” Katara smiles up at him. “You took tomorrow off, right?” 

Zuko assumes that Katara is asking because they’re trying to establish this as part of their pattern. The first full day of Katara being back in the royal palace is supposed to be dedicated to getting her up to speed to take over Sokka’s ambassador duties, which is a solid excuse for Zuko to refuse to put anything else into his calendar for the day - which means that it turns into a few hours of work with Katara, and a whole day to catch up.

It turns out that Zuko’s assumption is incorrect. Katara was checking that Zuko didn’t have any significant duties the next day because-- 

“Oh no,” Zuko laments, staring at the bottles. 

“Oh yes,” Katara insists, pouring a cup for Suki. “Toph sends her best wishes!”

Which is how Zuko ends up more than a little tipsy, blinking owlishly as Katara complains about everything that’s been bothering her, with the distinct and conspicuous absence of any mention of Aang.

“And you know what,” Katara says, gesturing with her cup in a way that reminds Zuko of Sokka. Pink liquid sloshes to the lip of her cup, but Zuko can’t quite track the movement enough to see if she spilled anything. “You know what? The Northern Water Tribe, too!” 

“Yeah!” Suki agrees with gusto, the way she’s been agreeing with every statement Katara has made. “Wait, what about them?”

“Every time we-- Every time I’m single for more than a few days, they start asking my Dad about matchmaking,” she says. “My Dad! As if he has the power to set me up with someone. Who do they think they are? Who do they think I am?”

“Yeah!” Suki agrees. 

Zuko frowns and leans forward, elbows resting on the table in a way that is definitely unbefitting of his station. “Wait, they’re trying to arrange a marriage for you?” 

Katara glares. “What? You think I’m going to-- not be single again soon, so I can’t think about being matchmade with someone else?”

Zuko blinks, following Katara’s anger but not her train of thought. “No, I mean-- I didn’t realise that’s a thing that people were trying to do to you, too.”

“Too?” Katara asks, straightening in her seat. “Oh no. You’re being set up?”

Suki snorts into her glass from her place on Katara’s bed. “They keep trying,” Suki explains. “But then Zuko gets all sad and Sokka gets all frowny, so good luck on that one.” 

“They’re worried about the line of succession,” Zuko explains. He feels a little more sober now, largely because he can once again feel the weight of his very real responsibilities. “It’s like they don’t realise that I’m worried about it, too. But I don’t want someone to marry me because they feel like they have to. And I’d like…” He trails off for a moment, eyes on the warm pink of Toph’s favourite drink. “I’d like to at least have a chance to marry for love?” He feels his mouth tug down into a frown. “But I guess they don’t think that’s worth it.”

“Oh, Zuko,” Katara says, and reaches across the table to grasp at Zuko’s hand. Zuko smiles up at her, a little wobbly from the alcohol. “You should get to marry for love. Tell them to get lost. That’s what I’m doing.”

Suki snorts. “Zuko is obviously going to marry for love. Don’t get all sappy about it.”

“I am telling them to get lost,” Zuko explains. “And Uncle is supporting me! He even said today that I shouldn’t worry if I want to marry a waterbender or something.” 

And then Zuko meets Katara’s eyes, horrified, and they both burst into hiccoughing laughter. 

“Oh Tui and La, can you imagine?” Katara eventually gasps out between pearls of laughter. “I would be the Fire Lady!” 

“Fire Lady Katara,” Zuko says, and he isn’t sure why it’s so funny to him, but somehow nothing has ever been funnier.

“Oh no, oh no - the next Fire Lord might be a waterbender,” Katara says, and her pink drink is all over the table now - how did that happen?

Zuko snorts. “No, Uncle said we’d use a surrogate to make sure that doesn’t happen. He even--” Zuko tries to catch his breath as laughter threatens to bubble up again, “he said-- oh Agni, he said there are devices to aid--” 

And Zuko can’t finish the sentence, because the laugh bursts out of him too soon.

“Oh no,” Katara says, her face creased in mirth. “Oh no, that’s so bad, tell me that Uncle didn’t really say--” 

“Um,” Suki says from the bed. “Guys, I don’t think Iroh was really talking about waterbenders?” 

But Zuko is too far gone to hear whatever entirely sensible thing Suki is likely to add to the conversation. “Can you imagine, though? Fire Lady Katara?” 

And then he stops laughing, because an amazing idea has just flashed across his mind like lightning, and he needs to stop to catch it properly. 

Katara has stopped laughing, too. Zuko looks up at her, and they’re both wide-eyed in amazement.

“It’s perfect,” Katara says. “The North would have to stop bothering me.”

“And so would my advisors,” Zuko says. 

“And they would give us unlimited time together,” Katara adds, “because we would be going on dates.” 

“It would be the perfect vacation from all the relationship stuff.” 

“Um, what’s happening?” Suki asks. 

Katara and Zuko grin at one another, loosened by alcohol and laughter, and Katara explains:

“I’m going to date the Fire Lord.” 

Chapter Text

It’s Katara’s first day as temporary ambassador, which means Zuko has taken the day off to spend with her. But Katara isn’t a firebender, so the rising sun doesn’t call to her blood. She will likely sleep for a few more hours yet, hours that Zuko can use productively, since he doesn’t have to sit through any nonsense meetings today. 

Zuko settles himself at his desk with a cup of tea to soothe his headache as he reads through his daily report, occasionally turning to the pile of letters stacked on his desk when he needs a break. Three cups of tea later, with the sun rising steadily in the sky, Zuko thinks it’s time to check on Katara--

And then his eyes land on one of the letters, because he recognises his name in the neat scrawl of the Southern Water Tribe script, and there is only one person who would leave a letter addressed to him that way. Smiling, Zuko unrolls the parchment with careful fingers. 

His smile slips from his features, and for a moment, Zuko misses Sokka so much that he can hardly breathe. 

It’s a drawing in steady ink lines, in that unusual style that Sokka picked up a few years back. Sokka’s drawings are always minimal in detail, and Zuko is always amazed that so much can be said with such little ink. There is no mistaking this as anyone else’s face. Zuko is looking down in the picture, maybe a little bashful, and a lock of loose hair is falling into his face. But Sokka has also captured the curve of a smile on his face. 

Zuko, Sokka has written on the parchment, off to the right of Zuko’s inked face. 

Don’t have so much fun with my sister that you forget to write. And don’t work so hard that you have no time for yourself. And don’t forget to miss me, because I’ll be missing you. 

It’s signed formally at the bottom in the Fire Nation script, like Sokka’s name on reports and official literature, at odds with the script he’s used for the rest of the letter. Zuko’s fingers linger there for a moment, and it feels too soon to write to Sokka - especially because Sokka is correct that he usually has no time for informal writing - but Sokka clearly kicked this off before he even left, so Zuko doesn’t feel self-conscious about unrolling spare parchment to write back.

Zuko begins by writing Sokka’s name in the Southern Water Tribe script, though he’ll be unable to continue the letter that way without dedicating a significant amount of effort. Maybe the next letter, Zuko thinks, and then returns to the writing style he is more familiar with. Zuko praises the portrait and describes Katara’s arrival in court, and finds himself grinning as he writes about Toph’s gift of the sickly sweet alcoholic drink. And then, midway through a sentence about how he’s waiting for Katara to wake up so that they can get on with their day, Zuko remembers the turn the conversation took last night.

… And abruptly decides that he shouldn’t include that detail in his correspondence with Sokka. Their tipsy plan is unlikely to survive any actual scrutiny in the daylight, after all, and the last thing Zuko wants is a letter from Sokka joking about Zuko dating his little sister.

I shall continue to miss you, Zuko writes at the end of the letter before adding his name in the same obnoxiously formal manner Sokka has chosen. 

Katara’s eyes find the portrait within moments of her bursting in with breakfast, and her eyebrows creep steadily upwards. 

“Have you not seen Sokka’s more recent sketches?” Zuko asks. “He’s getting a really distinctive style. I have a few in my bedchambers - I can show you sometime.”

“No, he’s sent me a few,” Katara replies, eyes still on the page. Her face pinches in confusion for a moment. “Can you read this?”

Zuko glances over from where he’s pouring tea. “The script? Yeah, Sokka taught me a few years ago. Not that Fire Nation script isn’t pretty universal nowadays, but… you know, it shouldn’t be as universal as it is, and I’m trying to ensure that anyone could communicate with me if they needed to.” Steam curls up from his teacup, and Zuko sits back to enjoy its warmth in his hands. “We’ve been working on trying to aid cultures in maintaining their customs. It’s one of Sokka’s babies, actually - so it’s on the list for getting you up to speed.” 

The conversation pushes and pulls from there, with both of them doing their best to talk around Aang, but it proves difficult to ignore the Avatar-shaped hole in their plans. Every time they get too close to mentioning Aang, Katara’s eyes go pinched and her mouth turns downward. And Zuko is so notoriously terrible at reading facial expressions that it’s one of his friends’ favourite things to mock him over, but even Zuko can tell that Katara doesn’t want to talk about Aang right now. 

He’ll be here when she does want to talk about it. And Zuko trusts that Katara knows that. 

Once they’ve run through the highlights of Katara’s next few months of work, they find Suki to drag her away for lunch. Suki somehow looks the worst for wear out of the three of them, a fact that Zuko and Katara immediately decide is hilarious.

“I’m not more of a lightweight,” Suki insists, even though she definitely is. By all logic, Katara and Sokka should be the ones with trouble handling alcohol; consumption is treated carefully at the South Pole, since alcohol in such cold conditions can prove deadly. But somehow, Suki - tough-as-nails, leader-of-an-elite-force-of-warriors Suki - is the one who always ends up suffering the most the next day. “I just drank a lot more. I had to drink a lot more, because you two were being nauseating when you were planning your wedding.”

There’s a moment of hush, in which Zuko wonders if anyone else is in hearing range, which is quickly followed by Zuko and Katara breaking down in laughter. 

“Oh no,” Katara says, face in her palm. “I forgot. I forgot we decided to get married. How could I forget that?”

“Excuse me, we did not decide to get married,” Zuko reminds her, swallowing down his slightly hysterical laughter. Suki glares at him, and he lowers the volume of his voice in respect for her and her hangover. “We decided to court one another, for a well deserved break.” 

Katara sits back. “It is kind of genius,” she notes.

“Oh no.” Suki buries her head in her arms. It’s highly unprofessional. 

They make plans. 

It goes like this:

Katara is going to write a letter to the northern chief, to politely inform him that she is not currently available to be matched with a politically appropriate candidate from the north, because she is in the process of courting. She will leave it vague to avoid rumours flying. The assumption will be that she and Aang are back together.

Meanwhile, Zuko will inform his advisors that he is courting Katara. It’s politically wobbly enough that they won’t want to spread the word. They will want Zuko to be sure about a marriage before they try to pave the way for the Fire Lord to marry a waterbender, after all; there’s no point going to all that trouble if he and Katara don’t work out. 

It’s the perfect plan. Zuko and Katara will get a break from political marriage conversations, will be given leeway to spend time together, and at the end of the day they will have an amicable breakup with no repercussions. 

“I would like it noted for posterity that I think this is a terrible idea and will blow up in your faces,” Suki states. 

Zuko nods. “Your dissent is noted.” He smiles. “You’re also legally bound to confidentially on any private conversation you witness while acting as my guard.”

Suki blows a raspberry with her mouth, because she might be an elite warrior tasked with guarding the life of the Fire Lord, but she’s also Suki. 

The next step is informing his advisors. 

This step is the gateway to increased Katara time and decreased political-marriage-and-securing-the-bloodline time. It’s essential for it to go well, and honestly, Zuko doesn’t foresee it being that difficult. As he enters the meeting, Zuko is prepared to answer questions on whether or not it’s appropriate for him to court a waterbender, which he expects to respond to with the help of Uncle Iroh.

He’s not expecting Uncle Iroh to freeze, tea halfway to his mouth, and stare at Zuko with wide eyes. 

“... Katara of the Southern Water Tribe?” he asks, stressing her name a little more than is warranted. “Did I hear that correctly?”

The expected questions come: Is it appropriate for the Fire Lord to court someone outside of the Fire Nation? Someone who is not of noble blood? A waterbender, of all people?

“General Iroh assures me that there is a precedent for surrogacy in the royal line,” Zuko assures his advisors, trying to remain calm as Uncle Iroh remains utterly unhelpful. At least he has put the teacup down at this point. “Were I to wed someone who might complicate the line of succession, we would of course take appropriate precautions.” 

His advisors grumble, but there is no direct argument against his solution.

“I am of course not requesting your permission to wed anyone,” Zuko presses. “I am simply informing you that I intend to court Master Katara, and she has agreed to a courting period. I did tell you that I wish to choose for myself,” he reminds them.  

“Has her father agreed?” General Shoji asks. 

Zuko closes his eyes for a moment, thanking Agni’s eternal light that he didn’t ask Katara to join him in this meeting. 

“Master Katara does not require permission to be courted,” he states. “Nor do I, for that matter.” 

Fire Sage Izumi raises a hand for Zuko’s attention. It’s something that the men in his court feel no need to do, but Zuko has had seven different conversations with her about it, and she doesn’t appear to be changing. Maybe Zuko will have to enforce a more strict code on everyone to act as a counterbalance. 

“Fire Sage?” Zuko says, turning in his seat to face her more fully.

Fire Sage Izumi offers a smile. “I had simply wondered how public you wished your courtship to be, Fire Lord,” she requests. 

Zuko nods. “Not public at all,” he replies. “I think Katara and I would both prefer to keep it private. We are close friends, and we don’t need rumours about our relationship to get in the way of anything.”

“I believe this is wise, Fire Lord,” Fire Sage Izumi allows, and then sits back in her seat. 

She hasn’t made a statement about her perspective on Katara, Zuko notes. Those in the room who have bothered to speak up have all made their opinions very clear. 

Aside from Uncle Iroh, that is. Zuko slides his gaze over, but Uncle Iroh still looks just as shocked as he did at the beginning of this conversation. 

When the other advisors are dismissed, Uncle Iroh stays behind. 

For the first time in this particular scenario, Zuko feels a touch of uncertainty. 

“Nephew.” Uncle Iroh clears his throat and waits for Zuko to make eye contact. “This was… most unexpected.”

“Was it?” Zuko asks. “We had a conversation about waterbenders in the royal line.”

The corner of Uncle Iroh’s mouth turns up in what seems to be amusement. “Ah. Yes, I had intended that to be… non-literal.” 

“You know I’m not good with proverbs, Uncle.”

Uncle Iroh nods. “Well. I think you should be aware that Fire Sage Izumi and I have been in conversation about less expected suitors, on the assumption that… something like this might happen.” He clears his throat, and then that smile appears again. “And if you wish to speak with me about Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, or any other suitor, I will always be here for you.”

Zuko politely excuses himself, and Suki joins him as he leaves the room.

“I want to say that went well,” Suki comments, “but I actually think that went weirdly.” 

Courting Katara is the most fun Zuko has ever had in a ‘romantic’ situation.

Spending time with Mai was always great, of course. Zuko adores Mai. But their relationship was always affected by the fact that they were supposed to have feelings toward one another that just weren’t there, not really, and that drew energy from both of them.

But with Katara, there is no pretense.

They’re allowed to take meals together without interruption. This might not seem like the biggest deal to people who aren’t the Fire Lord, but while Zuko usually takes many meals with Sokka, the only way they usually go uninterrupted is when Sokka puts his foot down about it. But it’s like people want Zuko to spend time with Katara.

And here’s the other best thing: it’s technically inappropriate for Zuko and Katara to spend time alone, which means that the stuffiest of his advisors insist that Suki goes with them. 

Suki hates it. It’s great. 

“I quit,” Suki says for the fourth time when Zuko and Katara are served chocolate-dipped starberries at the end of their first week. “I quit, and I hate both of you, and I quit.”

“You love this job,” Katara points out, and then holds up a starberry to feed it obnoxiously to Zuko. Zuko tries to eat it, but then Katara smears it across his face. Zuko really should have seen that coming. “You left your destined calling on Kyoshi Island to spend all your time with Zuko. You aren’t quitting just because he’s awful.”

“Hey!” Zuko protests. He isn’t even sure what he’s protesting at this point. 

“Maybe you should ‘court’ him next,” Katara suggests, grinning over at Suki.

Suki’s smile is as sharp as her fans. “I wouldn’t do that to your brother.”

Katara hesitates. “To my…?”

“Plus,” Suki continues, “I’m pretty sure Zuko’s advisors will catch onto the plan if he just goes through all of his friends.” 

Zuko pauses as a horrified thought occurs to him. “What if I was pretending to court Toph?” he asks aloud, allowing the terror to bleed into his words. 

Katara and Suki both laugh. 

“She’s technically more appropriate than you,” Zuko continues, pointing a starberry at Katara. “She’s a noblewoman.” 

“She doesn’t wear shoes, Zuko - she’s not more appropriate than me.”

They eventually decide, over a glass of sickly sweet wine, that the order of terrible dating choices would be: Toph as the worst choice (best by blood, worst by reality), followed by Katara (due to her waterbending), followed by Suki (who is not of noble blood, but is beloved by the court), followed by Ty Lee and Mai. 

“Why are we only counting the women?” Suki asks. She’s sober due to the fact that she is working. But she’s also smiling happily again, and doesn’t look like she’s as likely to assassinate Zuko as she is to protect him. “Where do Aang and Sokka fit into your ranking?”

Zuko’s breath catches in his chest, and fear flows through him.

Because-- Because that isn’t a normal thing to ask, is it? It isn’t normal for Suki to suggest the possibility of a future husband rather than a future wife? 

Katara has paused, too, and it takes Zuko a moment to realise that this is the first time they have directly mentioned Aang in days. But she soldiers on, narrowing her eyes with thought as she considers the possibility. 

“Well, they’re both down on the list due to being men,” she decides. “It’s legal now, but those stuffy old advisors of yours would all have heart attacks--” 

“I think Uncle Iroh would be fine with it,” Suki interrupts, which is unlike her. “And Fire Sage Izumi.” Her voice goes dreamy at the end there, because even though Suki isn’t interested in women (or, at least, has never indicated that she is) and Fire Sage Izumi is old enough to be her actual grandmother, Suki has taken to going starry-eyed in her presence. 

Katara nods. “Okay. I think Sokka’s at the bottom of the list, but I think Aang isn’t. He’s the Avatar. That has to win him points, right?” 

Suki and Katara go back and forth on how much leeway Aang would be given to court the Fire Lord, and Zuko sits back and nurses his wine. It’s only theoretical, he tells himself. They don’t know about the secrets of Zuko’s heart, the way he misses Sokka so badly sometimes even when they’re in the same room, the way that Zuko knows he’ll never feel for anyone else the way he does for Sokka. 

Right? 

Sometimes, ‘courting Katara’ means having very public fights with Katara. 

They are both masters of their elements, after all, and Zuko doesn’t get to spar with people who are actually willing to kick his ass nearly as often as he’d like. Sokka is great for sword practice, because he seems to think that publicly humiliating Zuko is a personal goal rather than a potential faux pas, but the people in Zuko’s life who are willing to put him on his back during a bending duel are few and far between.

Katara is a better bender than Zuko. She has more time to dedicate to the skill, she has fewer fighting styles to practice, and she’s a natural prodigy. She would be better suited to a duel with Azula, actually, if Zuko wasn’t worried that they might actually kill one another. 

But Zuko has a secret pai sho tile up his sleeve: 

Katara hasn’t seen his fire recently.

Zuko has been back to visit the Sun Warriors and the last of the world’s dragons at least once a year. And this time, even though his visit landed in the coldest and darkest time of the year, Zuko’s fire changed - and Zuko thinks it might have changed forever.

This time, Ran insisted that Zuko follow her into the depths of the caves. He went alone, and he trusted that the dragons weren’t attempting to eat him. After all, if they wanted to, they’d had more than enough chances. And there, deep in the caves, safely nestled where it could be watched and cared for, was a single gleaming dragon egg. 

At Ran’s encouragement, Zuko had approached the egg and laid his hands upon it. It felt alive, he realised; it felt like the sun itself was hidden in there. 

“Hello,” Zuko had said, his voice low but echoing through the dark cave. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

And when Zuko had been on his way out, when he’d raised a hand to conjure fire to give himself light… 

“What?!” Katara yells when she witnesses him firebend for the first time in their battle. “What? Why is your fire rainbow now?” 

Zuko takes advantage of her surprise.

He still loses, ultimately, but it takes Katara a lot more time and effort than either of them were really expecting. By the end of the battle, it becomes clear that they have gained an audience, and Zuko takes Katara’s hand as he bows.

“My lady,” he says, “you are a formidable opponent.” 

It’s really the height of romance, in Zuko’s book. But then again, Zuko only seems to know terrifying women. 

Mostly, ‘courting Katara’ means that Zuko and Katara both get exactly what they intended: nobody attempts to pressure them into accepting matches, and they get to spend time together.

Sure, it also means that Katara is expected to accompany him to stuffy events she would prefer not to attend. It also means that Zuko is expected to present her with gifts - but he had a waterbending scroll prepared for her arrival, anyway, and Katara isn’t difficult to purchase gifts for if you understand her interests. And yes, it does mean that being alone with Katara is complicated for a while, but as the weeks pass, everyone seems to loosen on their requirements. 

Or maybe they don’t loosen at all. Zuko isn’t entirely sure about that. All he knows is that he’s able to sneak Katara to his chambers at night, and nobody actually says anything about it, other than one very awkward conversation about preventing a scandalous pregnancy. 

“I’m going to do your hair,” Katara declares one evening.

Zuko looks up from the desk in his room. 

Katara is less accustomed to allowing Zuko to work while they spend time together. Zuko and Sokka have a very easy relationship around this, due to years of practice, but Katara isn’t actually good at working parallel to Zuko. 

“Sorry?” 

Katara drags Zuko away from his papers until he’s sitting in front of his mirror. 

“You’re doing your hair wrong,” she insists. 

“I’m not doing my hair at all. I have servants who do that for me. And sometimes--” He stops himself before admitting that sometimes, he allows Sokka to sit him down and fix his hair. It feels damning, somehow, that he regularly lets his hair down when it’s just the two of them; more damning still, that he allows Sokka to put it back in order before he faces the world again. 

Katara doesn’t seem to notice his slip.

“It gives you a headache.” 

She isn’t wrong. Zuko’s hair is longer than it has ever been, which means that there’s more weight on his topknot than ever before. Zuko usually deals with this by removing his crown and letting his hair loose, in those moments in which he’s alone in the office or alone with Sokka. But lately, he isn’t spending much time alone, and he’s spending no time alone with Sokka--

Spirits, Zuko misses Sokka. He feels a little guilty for it, because his time away from Sokka means that he gets to spend time with Katara, and he really appreciates this time with Katara, but… it’s different.

However, Katara isn’t wrong. Zuko spending so much time with his hair appropriately styled means that the weight regularly causes an ache to spread through his forehead and down to his jaw. 

“You should try it in a half-up style,” Katara insists, plucking out Zuko’s crown and loosening his hair. It feels oddly intimate, maybe even a little inappropriate, but Zuko doesn’t stop her. “That’ll be better for your head.”

Katara starts to comb out Zuko’s hair, and Zuko tenses up. She notices, and her hand stills as she waits for him to explain.

“Um.” Zuko clears his throat. “I don’t wear my hair like that, because…” 

Katara waits him out. 

“Well, that’s how-- that’s how my father wore his hair.”

Katara’s eyes flicker over Zuko’s face in the mirror, and he knows that she is cataloguing all the ways in which Zuko looks like Ozai already. He has his father’s jawline, his brow, it’s-- it’s impossible to miss, even with the softness that his mother has leant to his features, even with the distracting blemish of his scar.

And it isn’t just that Zuko doesn’t want to see his father in the mirror. Mirrors can be avoided, after all. It’s that he doesn’t want his subjects to look at him and see the power-hungry Fire Lord who stepped over them on his way to world domination, and he doesn’t want the people of the Earth Kingdom or the Water Tribes to look at him and see the man who was mad with passion for their destruction.

Katara hums. “He doesn’t have a monopoly on the style, you know,” she says. Zuko goes to protest, and Katara hushes him. “Let me try something?”

Zuko eventually sits back and allows her to play.

(Sometimes, Sokka will do this when he’s supposed to be helping Zuko get back into order, and he’ll braid some small pattern somewhere, a tiny plait tucking its way into Zuko’s top-knot. Zuko always pretends to be distracted, pretends he doesn’t really see it. But he cherishes those braids, wishes he could ask for Sokka to do it properly, wishes that wouldn’t be stepping over a line that is already drawn too close to Zuko’s heart.)

“Here,” Katara says eventually. Zuko opens his eyes to find that she’s twisted half of his hair into a topknot, but it doesn’t look anything like Fire Lord Ozai’s style. Locks of his hair are loose at the front, framing his face. 

It works, Zuko thinks, and smiles at Katara through the mirror. 

Katara clearly doesn’t want to talk about Aang.

But of course, that doesn’t last.

The dam breaks one evening when Katara and Zuko are decompressing from a particularly difficult meeting. They are lying on Zuko’s bed, which would technically be highly inappropriate if they were actually courting. 

And then, seemingly out of the blue, Katara says:

“You know, this whole ‘pretending to court’ thing… It’s making me think about what would happen if we actually courted.”

Zuko shifts enough that he can see her. His heart is pounding, because he really, really doesn’t want to have to actually let Katara down gently. But it would be insane for her to be interested in him at this point, he tells himself. 

“Um?” is all he actually says.

Katara bats a hand at him. It lands on his face. “Oh, calm down, I’m not making a pass at you,” she says. “I’m just saying: we’ve been friends for so long. I’m surprised nobody has been making noises about us ruining our friendship.”

Zuko shakes his head until Katara’s hand falls from his face to the pillow between them. 

“Well, the only person here who would actually care about that is Suki, and she knows the truth.” Zuko thinks for a moment. “And Uncle, I suppose, but he’s somehow still not over the news.”

Mostly, Uncle Iroh just watches the pair of them with a confused tilt of his head and carefully refrains from commenting. Zuko isn't sure what to make of it.

Katara pauses for a long moment, and Zuko can read in the air around her that she’s working her way up to something. 

“Do you think Aang and I ruined our friendship?”

Zuko turns on his side to face her. Katara keeps staring at the ceiling.

“Do you think that?” he asks, gently. 

Katara shrugs. “I worry about it,” she says. “I love Aang so much. I love him so much, Zuko - I think he’s the best person in the whole world, and there’s a part of me that wants to spend my whole life with him.”

“But?” 

“But the problem is everyone else,” Katara continues. “I just-- I’m my own person. I’m a pretty great person too, if I can say that myself. I’m a master waterbender, and I was a part of the team that won the war, and I--” 

“You don’t have to tell me how great you are,” Zuko reminds her. “I’m your number one fan.”

Katara snorts. It’s very unladylike. “No you’re not. Aang is my number one fan.” 

“Then there’s Sokka,” Zuko reflects. “I guess I’m your number three fan. But still. I’m up there.” 

Katara turns her head to smile at him, but it looks sad. 

“I love him so much, Zuko,” she says. It takes Zuko a moment to realise that her eyes look a little full. “I just don’t know if I can spend my whole life being reduced to being ‘the Avatar’s girlfriend’.” 

Right. Zuko closes his eyes for a moment, taking this in. 

“That makes sense.” 

“And it’s awful, because it’s not his fault at all,” Katara continues. “And I know I’m hurting him, and I’m hurting me, but I don’t…” 

Katara turns on her side and buries her face in Zuko’s neck. Zuko has no idea what to say to any of this, so he just holds her close. 

Eventually, Katara draws a deep breath. “Maybe we should never have tried. Maybe it would have been easier if we just stayed friends.” 

“Maybe,” Zuko agrees. “But then you’d always be wondering, wouldn’t you?”

Katara pulls back and wipes her face on her sleeve. 

“I guess.” She sighs. “Am I being stupid?”

Zuko wishes Uncle were here to give Katara advice Zuko wouldn’t really understand. Or maybe that Sokka were here - and not in the way that Zuko kind of always wishes Sokka were here, but rather because he’d know whether this is a time for advice or a time for comfort. Zuko has never been able to tell the difference between the two. 

“Uh. Okay. Do you want me to hug you again, or do you want me to tell you what I think?” Zuko asks, hoping that just asking will mean that he can do what Sokka does and offer the right thing.

Katara gives Zuko a flat expression. “Well now that you’ve said that, I have to know what you think, dingus.” 

Oops. 

“Sorry,” Zuko says, and then tries: “I think that this is about the war.” 

Katara blinks at him. “What?”

“I think most things are about the war, kind of,” Zuko explains. “We were just kids, and… Well, you know. We learnt how to be ourselves in the middle of a war. So it’s hard, sometimes, to figure out who we are when there isn’t a war anymore.” Katara is still staring at Zuko, and her eyes are wide, but they aren’t teary. Zuko counts that as a win. “Aang and I kind of had identities handed to us, right? And that’s not easy, but it’s… foundation. The rest of you didn’t have that. And so Aang has this foundation, and everyone’s telling him who he is, and you’re still trying to figure that out.”

“So what am I supposed to do?” Katara asks, and her voice sounds a little desperate.

Zuko winces. “I don’t know. Give yourself time and space to learn who you are, I guess?”

Katara watches him for a long moment, and then puts her hand over his face and pushes him away.

“When did you get wise?” she asks, offended and indignant. “That wasn’t supposed to happen!”

Zuko laughs. “I don’t think I’m wise,” he says, ducking under her hand. He rolls over so that he’s on his back again. “I just had to ask for advice a lot.”

Katara grumbles, but she lets it go. 

Eventually, after long moments have passed between them, she says: “I’ll think about it.” 

Zuko lifts his hand between them, and Katara reaches over to wind their fingers together. It’s nice, in a way, to hear that Katara doesn’t have it all figured out, either. 

“We wouldn’t ruin our friendship,” Katara declares eventually. Zuko looks over. “And Aang and I didn’t ruin ours, either. Because we’re all stronger than that. Our friendships are stronger than that.”

Zuko looks at their hands, and then at Katara, and then at the ceiling.

“Um.”

“Ugh, Zuko, I am still not making a pass at you,” Katara says, and then laughs. “Why are you so nervous about that? You think you’re so irresistible?”

“I’m gay.” 

And just like that, it’s out there.

Zuko hasn’t actually said this before. He hasn’t told anybody. His breath catches in his chest as he waits. 

“Wait.” Katara sits up a little, leaning pressure onto their clasped hands in a way that’s a little uncomfortable. “Does that mean homosexual? You’re attracted to men?”

His face feels so hot that Zuko is a little surprised he isn’t firebending from it. 

“Um. Yes,” he admits. “That.”

“Oh.” Katara looks thoughtful for a moment, and then drops back to lying down beside him. She squeezes his hand. “Okay. Thanks for telling me.” 

Zuko takes a very deep breath. In for a copper, in for a gold, he tells himself.

“Also, I’m.” He clears his throat. Katara squeezes his hand encouragingly. “I’m in love with Sokka.”

This time Katara lets go of Zuko’s hand, and he feels a stab of fear before she turns to face him, propped up on her elbow so that she can look at him properly.

“Oh, Zuko,” Katara says. “I’m so sorry.”

Zuko feels a lot of things - embarrassed beyond belief, a little ashamed, the aftermath of scared - but mostly, he feels sad. It washes over him like the tide, blue and unforgiving. Because Zuko has never let himself say that, and with the words comes the awful reality of being in love with one’s best friend and having it be painfully, awkwardly unrequited. 

“Yeah.” 

Zuko closes his eyes, and Katara’s hand falls onto his shoulder. He focuses on the point of contact, and tries not to shift his attention to the way his broken heart is on display.

Katara sighs. “He adores you, you know,” she says, quiet and soothing. “He loves you so much. And if you told him, it wouldn’t ruin your friendship, because your friendship is stronger than that.”

“I don’t want to tell him,” Zuko insists. “I don’t want things to change.”

“They might change in ways that will help, though. If he knows that sometimes he’s hurting you.”

“I’d rather he doesn’t know he’s hurting me.” Zuko opens his eyes and makes himself look at Katara. The sympathy pouring from her is a little cloying, but he at least she isn’t looking at him with disgust.

She nods. “You think that him knowing would hurt him,” she realises, “because he can’t… so all he can do is hurt you. Oh.” She drops back down to the bed, closer to Zuko this time. “What a mess. I’m so sorry.” 

Katara’s hand finds his before long, and they lie there together, hearts bruised. 

Chapter Text

Mostly, the months of ‘courting’ Katara proceed as usual. The war finished five years ago, but Zuko predicts that his entire reign will consist mostly of untangling the mess of the last hundred years, and there is much work still to be done. But alongside finding equilibrium after the war, alongside reparations and carefully withdrawing from occupied areas and teaching the Fire Nation to find glory in love and harmony, there’s also progress to be made. And Zuko is privileged to be in a position to pass laws that will protect people and allow them to live more freely. 

And yes, Zuko understands that a signature on a piece of paper is only a step along the way, but being able to tell the entire world that an Agni Kai proposed to or by a person under the age of majority is illegal, immoral, and dishonourable, is… it’s quite something. 

It’s taken five years to pass that law. He’s managed to put protections in place before now, but to put a legal age limit on an honour duel born in their religious scriptures as a right of all citizens is complicated, to say the least. Zuko bows to Fire Sage Izumi when the deal is done, and his bow is technically low enough that it’s inappropriate, but this is the reason that their partnership began, and here they are. 

Zuko gifts himself with an afternoon stroll with Katara. 

Zuko knows that Katara understands the importance of this moment. She might not comprehend why it was such a complex legal maneuver, why it necessitated so much relationship with the temples, why it was deemed impossible in the first place - but Katara knows Zuko. Katara has heard Zuko describe what happened to him, what his father did to him, how an entire audience watched and nobody was in a position to stop it. So she walks close to him, her hand tucked into his elbow, and lets him pull her away from what is probably important work. 

(There’s also a part of Zuko that might be avoiding Uncle Iroh in this moment. Zuko has long forgiven him - doesn’t even really consider it something to forgive - but he knows that Uncle Iroh’s tears will lead to Zuko’s tears, and today, Zuko wants to be happy.)

“Rika!” 

Zuko and Katara have stopped to look at jewelry in a stall. Zuko has been considering whether he needs to purchase Katara another gift, and has been pondering whether he should buy her something really garish for the sake of his own amusement, when a brief commotion pulls at his attention. 

One of his guards has shifted to stop a small child from running through the invisible social barrier around the Fire Lord and Ambassador Katara. 

Zuko waves to his guard. “It’s fine; let her through.”

The little girl stumbles past his guards’ legs and reaches her arms up to grab at Zuko’s robes.

Zuko’s heart swells. 

“Hello there,” he says, kneeling down to be on her level. 

Rika blinks at him, then takes an abrupt step backwards. 

“Rika!” the voice calls again, and Zuko looks up to see a woman on the other side of the guards. “That’s the Fire Lord, Rika, you can’t just--” 

“It’s fine, ma’am,” Zuko insists. He smiles at Rika. “Are you all right?”

Rika is frowning up at him. She lifts a hand to the side of her own face. 

“Oh, my scar?” Zuko asks, reaching up to touch it. He makes what he hopes is a sympathetic face. He’s never been good with controlling or understanding facial expressions. “Is it scary?”

Rika nods. “Yeah,” she says, and it’s the first thing she’s said to him. “Scary.”

Zuko hums. He taps his chin for a moment, thinking, and then asks: “Would it be less scary if you touched it?” 

Rika blinks at him, and tilts her head like Momo does when he’s curious. 

“It’s okay if you want to,” Zuko insists, and turns his face so that she can reach him easily.

Little hands come forward, and they’re so tiny and chubby that Zuko just about melts. Then Rika is touching Zuko’s face, one hand on his scar and the other on his nose. She stands there for a moment and then giggles, and Zuko grins back at her. 

“Pretty!” she declares eventually. 

“Oh?” Zuko asks, charmed by her change in attitude. “You know who’s pretty? Look there, that’s Lady Katara.” He points up at Katara, who is Master Katara, Ambassador Katara, or Tribeswoman Katara - but certainly not Lady Katara, not in any meaningful way. “She’s one of the prettiest girls in the whole world, did you know that?”

Rika gasps, drawing even closer to Zuko. “She is?”

“Uh huh,” Zuko replies, even when Katara rolls her eyes. “But you know what’s even better? Katara is brave, and she’s nice, and she works really, really hard. That’s more important than being pretty. Did you know that?”

Rika looks confused, and she shakes her head, and Zuko expects that this lesson is probably a little over her head. “Is she a princess?” Rika asks, still staring with awe up at Katara. 

Zuko chuckles. “Well. Not yet,” he says, and thinks that Katara would probably kick him if Rika wasn’t there. “But you don’t need to be a princess to be any of those things.”

“Oh,” Rika says, and then she tilts into Zuko’s arms and hugs him. 

Zuko hugs her back, and waves to the guards to let her mother through. 

“I’m so sorry,” Rika’s mother insists, bowing hastily. “My Fire Lord. You are most gracious. I am so very sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Zuko insists, standing up with Rika is his arms, clinging to Zuko’s neck like a koala sloth. “Rika is lovely. I was just telling her about how important it is to be brave and nice, wasn’t I, Rika?”

“And work hard!” Rika adds, proving that she actually was listening. “Like Lady Katara!” 

Rika’s mother smiles. “Is that right, my darling?”

“Yuh huh, and Lady Katara is going to be a princess!” 

Rika’s mother hesitates, looking over at Katara before smiling at Zuko. “Oh?”

“Shh,” Zuko says, mostly to Rika, and raises a finger to his lips. “It’s a secret.” 

When Zuko has passed Rika over to her mother and bid them farewell, Katara adds: “I’m beginning to think our courtship is the worst-kept secret in Caldera.”

Zuko shrugs. “It’s only rumours,” he assures her. Agni knows there have been enough rumours in Caldera about Zuko’s relationships (there have apparently been a great many of them, according to the average Caldera resident). As long as Zuko’s advisors insist that nothing is confirmed, there’s no harm. “Half of them would probably exist even if you weren’t accompanying me to formal events.”

“Yes, speaking of that - I do not remember agreeing to the ridiculous outfits.”

Zuko laughs as he listens to Katara’s ranting insistence that red isn’t her colour. It’s a remarkable juxtaposition to these conversations with Sokka, who insists that there isn’t a colour in the world that isn’t his colour.

Eventually, when she winds down, Katara says: “You’re good with kids.”

Zuko smiles, thinking about how tiny Rika’s hands were. He didn’t think to look, but he would bet her shoes were adorably small, too. 

“I like kids,” Zuko admits. “They’re not complicated.” 

Katara hums, clearly disagreeing with him, but Zuko doesn’t see how she can. Kids Rika’s age will just tell you what they think - like that they’re scared of your scar, or that they think you’re pretty, or somehow that both of those things are true. It’s when they get older that they start hiding things and lying. Zuko was always best with Azula when she was small and uncomplicated, too. 

“Do you want them?” 

“Children?” Zuko asks. “I… Yes, I’d like to raise children one day. Not soon, as much as my advisors would like me to secure the line of succession, but one day.” 

Katara frowns, looking off to one side as they walk. Her gaze doesn’t seem to be catching on any of the stalls they pass by. 

“What if I don’t want to have children?” she asks, her voice low.

Zuko lowers his voice, too, to add: “I’ll remind you that we’re not really courting and our desires for children don’t have to match?”

This shocks Katara into laughter, and she elbows him viciously but subtly in the side. 

“I mean in general,” she clarifies. “What if I don’t want to in general?”

“Then you won’t? I don’t understand the problem.”

“Zuko.” Katara sighs, and spares Zuko an unhappy glance. “Aang needs to have children.” 

Zuko blinks. “Nobody needs--” 

“No, he does,” Katara interrupts him. “He’s the last airbender. If the world is going to have more airbenders, he needs to have children. Preferably a lot of them. That’s more important to the world than whether or not I want to.” She squeezes his arm. “And it’s not even that I don’t want to, not really. I like kids. But I don’t want to have children because I have to have them for the sake of the world. You know?” 

Zuko does know. He understands what it’s like to have his life’s course dictated to him. He also knows what it’s like to put his foot down and make his decisions his own way. 

“Have you talked to Aang about this?” 

Katara shakes her head. Her hair catches a little in the pleasant breeze. 

“No,” she admits. “It seems like such a mean thing to bring up: I don’t know if I want to have your babies just because you need to have them. Ugh.” 

Zuko frowns. “You should talk to Aang about it.”

“Well, it’s not much use right now.”

“No, Katara, you don’t get it.” Zuko pulls them to a stop so that he can face her properly. “Aang and I have been writing about it.”

This gives Katara pause. “What?” She sounds a little offended, her voice pitched somewhere between ‘you had better explain yourself right now’ and ‘there is no way your explanation is going to help so you might as well not try’. 

“Not about you,” Zuko adds hastily. “About airbending, and the balance of the world. We think… I’ve been looking in the Dragonbone Catacombs, and Aang has spoken to some of his past lives, and we think that airbending is going to come back naturally.” Katara is looking at him very wide-eyed, so Zuko tries to explain: “The world has a natural balance. It needs airbenders, just like it needs us. Aang has been holding strong, especially since he’s the Avatar, but we have reason to believe that other airbenders will be born. Probably soon, if they haven’t been already.”

Katara shakes her head. “But how? They were all killed.”

“Well, yes, but it’s not really that simple, is it?” At Katara’s blank look, Zuko adds: “There are always stories of the occasional earthbender showing up amongst a Fire Nation family. Someone’s great-great-great-great grandfather was from the Earth Kingdom - sometimes it’s even in their family tree as a known thing. Cross-cultural relationships might not be common, but… people are people, right?”

Katara draws a deep breath. “So you think the Air Nomads mixed with everyone else.” 

“I know that. There are people who have Air Nomads in their family trees, if you look back far enough. And I think we’ll see their descendents airbending before long.” 

Katara finally pulls her hand away from Zuko’s elbow, and runs both hands over her hair. 

“Wow.”

“The real question isn’t about having lots of children, it’s about preserving Air Nomad culture,” Zuko insists. “Aang needs to write everything down. And he needs to talk to the other Air Nomad Avatars, get everything he can together. Maybe we can even set up some expeditions, find whatever we can from the temples--” 

And then Zuko has an abrupt armful of Katara. 

“Why didn’t either of you tell me that before?” Katara asks into Zuko’s neck as she hugs him.

Zuko squeezes her. “I don’t know why Aang didn’t say anything. But it sounds like he didn’t know you were worrying about having seventy babies?” 

Katara laughs into his neck. 

Their time together begins to wind down. 

As the time passes, Suki stops looking like she’s going to throw blades Mai-style at them every time they have a fake date, Uncle Iroh stops looking like someone has hit him around the head with a tea tray, and everyone gets used to the new status quo. It’s nice. And it’s almost time to break up. 

“If we break up before the party, I won’t have to talk to a stylist again,” Katara points out from where she’s lying on Zuko’s bed with her legs propped up on the intricate headboard. Suki snorts from the corner of the room, and Katara tilts her head back to glare at her. “So much of my time is spent matching Zuko, Suki.”

“You don’t match me, you complement me,” Zuko explains, even though he actually has no idea what this means when it comes to clothing. 

“I miss insulting you,” Katara responds. 

Zuko shakes his head and looks down to the letters he’s working his way through. He’s just received Sokka’s last letter before his return, and Zuko is trying to figure out why it’s so… short? Sokka normally goes overboard describing every element of his time away. He must have been in a rush while writing this one, Zuko notes, and then puts it into his draw of Sokka’s letters. He can’t reply to this one, because Sokka will already be on his way by now. 

Is it weird to miss someone specifically when they’re on their way toward you?

“Well, if you’re going to break up before the party, can you do that soon? We have a guard detail to plan and I do not want to be in charge of rewriting it at the last minute.” 

Katara looks at Zuko and shrugs. “I guess we can go until the day after the anniversary,” she suggests. “At least that way there isn’t any drama, and nobody will question us spending time together.” 

Zuko nods. “That makes sense.” 

Katara starts collecting her things to leave the room. It’s an open secret that she’s likely to sneak her way back in later, but they’re at least keeping up appearances with her leaving at an appropriate time.

“Quick question,” Suki says in her tone of voice that means ‘this is an important detail you should consider, disguised as me being nonchalant’. “Who else knows that this is all a farce?” 

Zuko blinks. “Nobody,” he says, and then pauses. “Well. I suspect Uncle might not really believe us.” 

“So, all of our friends are going to arrive to the news that you’re courting.” 

“No, obviously not,” Katara insists. “We’re going to meet them and tell them before they run into any whispers.” 

Zuko nods. “We’ll intercept them. Sokka should be at the docks around the same time that Appa arrives with Aang and Toph. We’ll just take them for tea and let them know what’s happening.”

“Toph is going to think this is the funniest thing that’s ever happened,” states Katara, who has never once successfully predicted Toph’s sense of humour accurately. Nobody says anything, but Katara throws a glare at both Zuko and Suki anyway. “I’m right! She’ll think it’s funny!” 

“No comment,” Suki responds. 

“Good night,” Zuko says, not looking up from his correspondence. He lifts his head a little, and Katara kisses him on the cheek. Zuko isn’t entirely sure when they established this habit, but it’s kind of nice. “Don’t terrorise the guards on your way back in.”  

Later, once Katara has slipped into Zuko’s room, she says:

“I think I’m going to talk to Aang.”

Zuko turns on his side, then cups a hand to bring a multicoloured flame to life between them. Katara’s face is serious, but she doesn’t look stressed or upset anymore. Zuko thinks this is an improvement. 

“Okay?” Zuko responds. 

Katara nods. Some of her hair falls over her face with it, and Zuko uses his other hand to push it behind her ear. 

“The thing you said about the airbenders,” Katara explains. “It’s not that, exactly. It’s not about the children. But it made me realise that… if I thought that was so impossible to get past, and it wasn’t impossible - it would have been okay if I’d just said something - then…” 

Zuko nods. He understands. “Then what else might be surmountable if you just talked about it,” he adds. 

“Yeah.” Katara smiles at him. It’s wobbly and small, but also dazzling. “And even if something isn’t surmountable, it would still be better if we talked about it.” 

Zuko hums in agreement. “I’m glad you’re going to talk about it.”

“Zuko,” Katara says, looking at him pointedly. “Listen to me. Even if it isn’t fixable, it’s still better to talk.” At Zuko’s blank expression, Katara adds: “You should talk to Sokka.” 

Zuko’s heart drops. “I can’t,” he responds, and means: you can’t make me. 

“Whatever you’re telling yourself, whatever worst-case-scenario you’ve cooked up - that won’t happen,” Katara insists. Her warm hand finds Zuko’s wrist. “That’s just your brain being mean to you. Sokka loves you. And it’ll help you move on, if you can talk about it.” 

“You don’t know that,” Zuko says. He feels so tired, all of a sudden, like the night has crept into his soul. 

“I know that Sokka loves you,” Katara insists. “I know that these things are never best kept to ourselves. You taught me that.” 

Zuko lets the flame in his palm go out. He listens to Katara’s soft breathing next to him. 

It would be a lot, going from Katara being here all the time to Sokka being around but avoiding him. It would be a lot for Zuko’s heart. Maybe… Maybe if Zuko could tell him next year, right before he leaves, and they could have time apart to get past it all. 

“Just tell me you’ll think about it,” Katara insists. 

“I’ll think about it,” Zuko responds, entirely honestly. 

He’s not sure he’ll ever stop thinking about it. 

The day comes with much fanfare, and its usual chaotic energy. 

Zuko forgets, every year, that there is no room to breathe in the build-up to the anniversary festival. Part of the problem is that Sokka isn’t here. Zuko should really suggest that Sokka aims to arrive a day or two before the festival begins, because Sokka has an eye for technical details and also a skill for keeping Zuko from going insane. Katara is wonderful, and Zuko has so appreciated having her around, but she doesn’t know how to effortlessly lift the weight from Zuko’s back like Sokka does. 

And then, just like that, Zuko’s frenzied day pauses like a dropped instrument.

Azula is here. 

Zuko is halfway down the hallway, between one emergency and the next, when he spots her. She’s leaning against a pillar, eyes turned toward Zuko even when her face isn’t, and the sight of her draws all the breath from Zuko’s body. 

Suki takes a step closer to Zuko, and he isn’t sure if it’s meant to be a comfort, or if she’s genuinely concerned about whether he’s safe. 

“Fire Lord,” Azula drawls, with all of the heavy sarcasm of someone who will never really respect his station, not with their father still alive. “Surprised to see me?” 

Zuko has only seen Azula face-to-face a handful of times over the last five years, and none of them have been here. For two years, Azula refused to see him at all. She received his letters and even occasionally responded with her own updates - but even that took many long months to establish. And then they had finally met face-to-face, and Zuko had been buzzing with nerves and excitement over seeing her, over seeing how her treatment and freedom and time had changed her, and it had been… 

It had been so much worse. Azula’s progress backslid by miles upon Zuko’s arrival. She lashed out verbally and then physically, and it was only the fact that Zuko swore everyone present to secrecy that saved Azula from the usual repercussions of attacking the Fire Lord. 

Now, looking at Azula as she leans against a pillar in the palace, Zuko feels like he can’t draw a breath until he knows how this is going to go. 

(Because two years ago, Zuko tried again - braced himself for impact, but turned up nonetheless - and Azula had even smiled at him.) 

“It’s good to see you, Azula,” Zuko says, taking a step forward. 

Suki, who was there when Azula had almost taken him down three years ago, matches Zuko step for step. 

Azula’s mouth curls up at the corner. “Yes, well. I have been the recipient of some interesting rumours.” 

Zuko almost laughs. “It was gossip that finally got you back here?” 

Azula rolls her eyes. The fact that she looks away from Zuko is a comfort. She isn’t tracking his movements, ready to attack or defend. Her shoulders aren’t tight. Something in Zuko loosens. 

“Gossip in both directions,” she admits. “Ty Lee broke up with the latest idiot.”

“Ling?” Zuko asks. 

“You’re not up-to-date. Ling is old news,” Azula explains. “This one was a village boy. Hardly worth commenting on. Unless you’re Ty Lee, in which case you won’t shut up about him.” She tilts her head. “So? What’s this about you providing waterbending heirs for the Dragon Throne?”

At once, Zuko is aware of where they are. Zuko’s guards are behind him, and he’s halfway through a meeting with two people, and the walls of the palace have ears.

Zuko offers Azula a smile. “There will be no waterbenders on the throne,” he insists. “Will you join me in my rooms?”

Zuko escorts Azula back to his chambers. 

(They aren’t the old Fire Lord’s chambers. Zuko didn’t want to sleep in that bed, and at Sokka’s suggestion, he had those rooms converted into their most honourable guest’s chambers. Zuko had remodelled his childhood bedroom into the Fire Lord’s chambers. They’re perhaps not as large or ostentatious as they could be, but it’s one of the few places in the palace that Zuko has honestly good memories in. Mostly, the good memories are of his mother and of Azula, back when she was too young to be turned against him.) 

Azula clearly notices, but she refrains from commenting. 

She does, however, comment on the fact that Zuko keeps his guards outside. Suki casts him a wide-eyed, unimpressed look as he closes the door on her, and Azula says: “Really? You think I’m that declawed?” 

Zuko hesitates. “Do you want me to be scared of you?”

Azula scowls, and refrains from responding. “The waterbender?”

“We’re not really courting,” Zuko insists, walking to sit at his desk. “I mean, we are publicly courting, but we’re only friends. I just wanted the court to stop pressuring me to marry.” 

There’s a brief pause, and then Azula’s laughter cuts through the room. “Really?” she asks, lifting her hand to wipe away a nonexistent tear. “I didn’t think you had it in you, brother. It’s quite the deception.” 

“It worked.” Zuko shrugs. “I’ve been able to get work done all this time without anyone trying to set me up.”

Azula doesn’t ask him if it’s really so bad to be set up. Zuko is glad for it. 

And then, abruptly, it isn’t enough. It isn’t enough that Azula is here, that she’s reaching out to him in this incredibly tangible way, that she’s pushed herself to come back to the place where everything fell apart for her over and over again, and all Zuko has for her is it’s good to see you and we’re not really courting. 

“I,” Zuko starts, thinking about Katara’s urge toward honesty, “I think--” 

Azula’s expression has fallen into boredom, but she lifts an eyebrow when Zuko stumbles over his words. “Do you?” 

“I think I’m not,” Zuko tries again. He pushes himself to stand, hoping that being on the same level as Azula aids him. It doesn’t. “Ugh. Why is this so difficult to say?”

“Just spit it out.” 

When Zuko had told Katara about himself, it came from a place of comfort and trust. Zuko isn’t comfortable around Azula, not really, and he does trust her, but it’s… limited. He trusts that she won’t try to kill him again, but does he really trust that she won’t react badly to this? That she won’t make him feel a hundred times worse? That she won’t use this information to tear him down?

“It doesn’t matter,” Zuko starts, and then watches something interesting happen on Azula’s face. It’s like her expression is relaxing, smoothing out, but not in a good way. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“You’re right not to trust me,” Azula says in a tense voice. “And I do not like it.” 

Surprise shoots through Zuko. “What?”

“I am speaking what I feel,” Azula explains, and it sounds like she’s reading the words instead of saying them. “Communication is vital to healing.”

Zuko needs to sit down again, but he’s rooted to the spot. “Do you… want to heal?”

“Obviously I want to heal. I wouldn’t have spent five years in that spirits-damned facility if I didn’t want to heal, would I? Think for once in your pathetic life, Zuko.” And then, after half a breath: “You’re irritating me.” 

“Wow,” Zuko says. “I meant--”

“I know what you meant, I was deflecting,” Azula snaps. “Yes. I want us to have a better relationship. There, are you happy?”

Zuko’s smile breaks across his face. “Yes,” he says. “I am happy. I want us to have a better relationship too, Azula.” 

Azula rolls her eyes and folds her arms, like Zuko is hardly worth her attention and energy, but it feels different now that Zuko knows.

Katara had meant this too, hadn’t she? That communication was a good thing, that bottling up and ignoring things only allows them to fester?

“I’m gay,” he says before he can overthink it. 

Azula blinks, frowns, and looks over at Zuko. “Okay?”

“I just-- I’m not ready to tell everyone yet. Could you not tell anyone? I just wanted you to know about that.” 

“Zuko,” Azula says impatiently, “I already knew that.”

“What?”

“You’re in love with the waterbender’s brother. You have been for years. Why did you think I decided to come and figure things out for myself?” She raises a hand in a sweeping gesture. “Obviously something was happening here. I thought you had decided to use your boyfriend’s sister as a cover for a scandalous affair, and I decided to hit you upside the head until you made better decisions.” And then, with a huff of annoyed breath: “And possibly to threaten the court a little, if this was all their idea.”

“You…” Zuko trails off, and feels a crash of guilt at how he had wavered at her arrival. “You came because you wanted to help me.” 

Azula rolls her eyes again. Zuko sometimes isn’t sure how she manages to refrain from giving herself a headache. “If you want to take ‘hitting you repeatedly’ that way.” 

Zuko wishes they were close enough, emotionally, that he could hug her. But neither of them is likely to take that kind of step - and while Zuko does have physically affectionate relationships, he is rarely (if ever) the one to initiate it. 

“Thank you,” Zuko says, trying to push all the meaning he can into those words. And then: “But, uh, you should know that you’re wrong about Sokka.” 

Azula’s eyes narrow. “No, I’m not. Ugh. Please don’t tell me that I have to break the news to you that you’re in love with him.” 

“No, you’re… right about that,” Zuko admits, even though he hadn’t planned to reveal so much. “But we’re not together.” 

Azula’s “why not” is overshadowed by a knock at the door. 

Zuko goes to open the door to his guards, and Suki says: “Sokka has arrived.” 

Zuko turns his head to look back at Azula, who waves him off. “I’ll find Mai and Ty Lee, and see you at the festivities,” she says, pushing past him to walk out of the door. Suki glares at her back. “But just so you know, you are an idiot.” 

“I know,” Zuko admits, earning a chuckle from Azula as she rounds the corner. 

Zuko runs to the courtyard. 

The timing is perfect. Katara joins him in running down the steps, and Sokka spots them and waves from the courtyard. 

Zuko is a faster runner than Katara - or, perhaps, she allows him to win - and he runs straight into Sokka’s arms. He should probably be more careful with his feelings, but it has been months since he’s seen Sokka, so it’s hardly his fault. 

Sokka laughs, and it carries a little on the warm breeze. 

“I missed you,” Sokka says into Zuko’s hair. 

“I missed you,” Zuko replies, and pulls back far enough that he can take in Sokka’s expression. 

He watches as Sokka’s eyes slide over Zuko’s shoulder, and then Sokka lifts one arm and says: “Well? Get in here.” 

Katara tucks herself into the embrace, and for a moment, everything is well with the world. 

After a few moments, Sokka asks: “Wait, Katara… What are you wearing?” 

Sadly, Katara responds: “Red.” 

“It is not your colour,” Sokka responds, and Zuko has to hide a grin. “And Zuko, your hair…?”

“Oh!” Katara says. “I restyled it. Do you like it?” She reaches out in their three-person embrace to tug at a tendril of Zuko’s loose hair by his shoulder. “It was giving him a headache.” 

Sokka’s smile fades a little, his eyes on Katara’s hand, and Zuko watches his expression with faint concern. 

There isn’t enough time to unpack the moment before Katara is leaning back, lifting her hand to the sky. “It’s Appa!” 

Moments later, Appa lands beside them, and Aang and Toph all but leap into their group embrace. 

“Hey, losers,” Toph greets. She’s still the shortest of them by far, so she ends up sandwiched in the middle. 

“Sorry we’re late,” Aang adds. “I had to get Toph out of jail.” 

“I have been banned from Ba Sing Se,” Toph declares. “That’s seven cities. Seven more than you, Twinkletoes.” 

Aang’s shoulders droop. “Nowhere wants to ban the Avatar. It’s bad for morale.” 

“Okay, what is this competition?” Katara asks, sounding unimpressed. 

“Hey Zuko, could you ban me from the Caldera tomorrow?” Aang asks hopefully.

“Um, no, that is not how it works,” Toph shouts. “That’s not a genuine ban! That’s favouritism! I refuse to count it--” 

“If I exile you both, will you stop,” Zuko suggests.

“Fire Lord Zuko?” 

Zuko twists out of their group hug, tugged back into work. Right. He left in the midst of a mild political emergency in order to see Azula, which has cut into his timing. 

“Ah. Sorry, guys, I think I can’t make our tea. Oh, but Katara will take you.” Zuko gives her what he hopes is a meaningful look. Zuko can’t be there for the conversation about their agreement, but he trusts that Katara will handle it well. “And, uh, in the meantime - just don’t listen to any weird rumours, okay?” 

There’s an odd energy for a moment, charged, and then Sokka laughs with what sounds like relief.

(Zuko has missed the sound of his laughter.)

“Fire Lord Zuko.”

“Right, okay. I’ll see you all soon,” he says, and then - born of pure instinct - tilts his head toward Katara. She lands a kiss on his cheekbone, and Zuko is walking away before he realises that Katara is probably being teased mercilessly for the easy affection.

Zuko enters the party with Katara on his arm, as has become expected of them. Katara smiles through it, and doesn’t wince, even though Zuko knows she doesn’t enjoy this at all.

“Last time,” Zuko says to her quietly. 

“Thank the spirits,” Katara responds through a smile. “Thank Tui and La. Thank Yue. Thank Agni.” Zuko suppresses his own laughter. “I can’t wait to never have to wear formal Fire Nation robes again. Did I tell you that they dragged me away two hours early to get me ready?” 

Zuko looks over at her. Katara’s hair has been styled in complex patterns, but aside from that, Zuko can’t imagine what would take so long. “You’ll never have to complement me again,” Zuko comforts her as the Earth King is led toward them. 

“Only insulting you, starting tomorrow,” Katara responds, and then bows. 

It is always the case that Zuko can’t spend time with his friends for the early formalities of the evening. He has to greet people, to talk politics lightly enough to make no promises but significantly enough to imply that he takes his guests’ opinions seriously. There will be a speech, and some formal dancing. 

And then Zuko can spend the night with his friends. Like every year, he has to get through the next few hours with careful politeness.

Unlike every year, Katara is dragged along for much of it. 

Maybe they should have ‘broken up’ before the party after all.

But Katara puts on a brave face, and from Zuko’s perspective, it’s nice to have company. Suki is often close to him during these kinds of parties, but she isn’t close enough for conversation, and she’s working; she doesn’t appreciate distraction when Zuko’s life is technically on the line. 

Azula does some of the rounds, too, which surprises Zuko. She’s flanked by Ty Lee and Mai, and all three of them seem somehow more relaxed than they used to. Zuko wonders how these years of friendship have shaped the three of them, and he abruptly finds himself missing each of them dearly. He should visit more, he thinks - especially now that he knows that Azula would have come to Zuko’s aid, had he needed it. 

Every now and then, Zuko and Katara pause to speak with their friends. In a usual year, Zuko would have turned around to find one of them there with a drink and some encouraging and/or casually insulting words, ready to draw a relieved breath or a laugh from Zuko before he went back to working the room. This time, Sokka, Aang, and Toph stick together in a tight group, and they seem… 

If Ty Lee, Mai, and Azula seem more relaxed than expected, then Sokka, Aang, and Toph seem more tense. 

“Do you think they’re okay?” Zuko asks after they leave a brief conversation with tight smiles. “Someone might have been bothering them.”

“I bet it’s General Shoji,” Katara notes, looking over her shoulder. 

Zuko’s speech is followed by a few toasts, each from a representative of another nation. They aren’t full speeches, but rather intentions for the worldwide political relationship through the following year. Sokka is in charge of the intention from the Water Tribes this year, and Zuko listens carefully as he wishes them a year of honesty and growth. 

Sokka doesn’t meet Zuko’s eyes, and Zuko can’t empty his ears of the word honesty. 

Katara has been pushing Zuko toward speaking with Sokka about how he feels, and while there’s a small part of Zuko that is utterly terrified, he mostly knows that it will be fine. Their relationship might have to change, but… if knowing about Zuko’s feelings would alter Sokka’s behaviour, then that’s Sokka’s prerogative. 

And he’s tired. He’s so tired of holding this in. Katara knowing about him has lifted weight from his shoulders. And if even Azula can hear this about him and respond with support instead of using it to cut him down… 

Zuko makes up his mind. 

Zuko takes Sokka for a walk in the gardens. 

It’s midsummer, so the sun is setting late. It’s starting to get darker, but the light is lingering at the horizon. The gardens are in full bloom, as beautiful as they ever are. It’s difficult to imagine that, just five years ago, the world was falling apart. 

“You’re getting better at the speeches,” Sokka comments as they walk deeper into the garden. Suki is behind them, far enough that she isn’t privy to their conversation, but close enough to be aware of danger. 

“They’re getting easier,” Zuko responds. “It helps to have you all here.” 

Sokka lifts his head with a slight smile. Zuko can’t help but feel that it’s dimmer than his smiles were, before he left. “My favourite will always be your first speech, though.” 

Zuko screws up his nose. “That was definitely not my best.” 

It feels like so long ago. Zuko remembers being exhausted but hopeful, looking at the long road ahead to peace and reconciliation. 

Sokka nudges him as they walk. “Nah. But it was my favourite.” 

Zuko smiles. 

“Listen,” he says, “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

And just like that, Sokka’s posture changes. He stands up straight, shoulders broad and squared, and faces Zuko. “About Katara?” 

“What? No,” Zuko says, and then backtracks. “Well. Kind of. In that Katara suggested I talk to you.” 

Sokka looks off to the side, where the fire lilies are in bloom. Zuko wonders if he stopped them by his mother’s favourite flowers subconsciously, as an attempt to glean comfort. 

“Okay,” Sokka says, and then takes a deep breath. “What is it?”

Zuko’s words freeze in his chest. Like his first speech upon ascending the throne, Zuko hasn’t planned what he’s going to say. He’s gone from deciding to speak to here, in front of Sokka, without giving himself time to retreat. But Sokka thinks Zuko’s unplanned speech was his best, and so Zuko tries to speak his heart once again. 

“I,” he starts, and tries to breathe through his own nerves. “This is difficult for me to say.” 

Sokka crosses his arms and shifts away from Zuko. Zuko wishes he would shift closer, instead - thinks that if Sokka touched him right now, everything might be easier. 

“What did Katara want you to tell me?”

Sokka sounds oddly vulnerable, and Zuko latches onto that. It’s not only him who’s vulnerable right now. He can do this. He can trust Sokka enough to do this. 

“I know that… you don’t want to hear this, not really,” Zuko starts, and then closes his eyes because it’s easier to say this without looking at Sokka’s face. “But… it’s better that I say it and we both know, and then I can do something about it. Not that there’s anything to-- I don’t mean to imply that anything has to change. Or maybe it does, but that’s up to you. If--”

“Zuko,” Sokka interrupts. Zuko opens his eyes, to find that Sokka is frowning. “What is it? You can tell me anything.”

And it’s true, isn’t it? Sokka knows so much about Zuko. Sokka knows about so much of his guilt, and anger, and about so many of the worst parts of Zuko, and he’s here anyway. He stays anyway. This can’t be any worse than that really, can it?

“This doesn’t have to change anything between us,” Zuko promises. He takes a deep breath. “I… The way that I feel about you is…” He’s doing this all wrong. “Sokka. I’m really sorry. I don’t want to make this weird, but I think you have a right to know, and I think Katara’s right that I can’t hope to get over you if I don’t tell you.” I’m in love with you sits on the tip of his tongue, but it feels so heavy, so unmovable, and just because Zuko is being honest doesn’t mean he needs to dump the true weight of this on Sokka’s shoulders. “I’ve had feelings for you for a long time.” 

Zuko meant to do this without looking directly at Sokka, meant to treat Sokka like the sun - beautiful and important and not to be gazed upon directly - but his eyes don’t obey his mind’s command.

This is why he has to witness the moment that his words land. 

Sokka’s eyes widen and his face slackens, and then a confused frown passes over his features. “What? But… What?”

“I’m sorry,” Zuko presses. “I am. I didn’t mean for this to happen. And I will get over it, but… I thought you should…” 

Zuko trails off, his words falling away into nothingness, as Sokka’s confusion is pushed out and is replaced with anger. 

Zuko’s heart drops. His throat freezes, apologies dying before they can get out, and Sokka looks-- 

He looks furious. 

“Katara said you should tell me,” Sokka says, voice low and intense. “So that you could ‘get over’ me.” 

“I’m sorry,” Zuko repeats, and somehow those are the only words he can manage. Panic speeds up his spine. “I’m sorry.”

Zuko was wrong. Katara was wrong. Sokka isn’t going to pity him, or support him, or anything like that. 

Zuko knows the look on Sokka’s face. He’s staring at Zuko like Zuko is a monster, and Zuko feels everything spinning out, feels their years of friendship unravelling in this moment and unspooling at their feet. 

Zuko thinks he might be sick. 

“You’re sorry,” Sokka says, and his voice trembles on it. “Oh, I guess that makes it okay then?” 

“I’m sorry,” Zuko repeats, stupidly grasping for anything that he can do to take this back, to stop this from happening. “I shouldn’t have told you. I was-- I’m sorry, Sokka. Please don’t--” 

But Sokka has already turned away. He’s raised a hand to his own hair, and Zuko faintly notes that his hand is shaking. In anger? Zuko has never seen Sokka shake in anger before. 

“Obviously you shouldn’t have told me,” Sokka agrees, and then his breathing goes weird, like he can’t quite catch it in his chest. “I’m going to go. Don’t follow me.” 

Zuko wants desperately to reach out, to stop Sokka from leaving until this is fixed, but-- 

But he isn’t welcome to touch, is he? And there isn’t anything left to fix, is there? Everything changes now. Nothing ever goes back to the way it was.

Belatedly, Zuko realises that there are tears on his own cheeks. When did he start to cry?

“Sokka,” Zuko tries, even though he knows that he deserves this, knows that there isn’t anything that can put this all back in the hidden confines of his heart. 

Sokka’s footsteps feel loud on the path as he starts to walk away. 

And then Zuko realises that he isn’t hearing Sokka’s footsteps, but rather-- 

“Sokka?” Katara asks, frowning at whatever she’s seeing on her brother’s face. 

Chapter Text

Zuko’s worst nightmare unfolds before him. 

There’s a distinct moment, when Katara is staring at Sokka and the three of them are frozen, that Zuko thinks this must not be real. He must be dreaming. But then Katara reaches out to touch Sokka’s face, her expression wide open with concern and sympathy, and Sokka flinches away from her, and Zuko knows this is real. 

“Don’t touch me,” Sokka insists. “Leave me alone, Katara.” 

Sokka goes to storm past her, but Katara shifts into his path. “Sokka, what happened?” she asks, then looks over Sokka’s shoulder to Zuko. “Zuko?”

“Exactly what you wanted to happen,” Sokka spits. “Leave me alone.” 

“No.” Katara crosses her arms. “Not until you tell me why you’re angry.” 

“Why I’m angry?” Sokka asks, his voice rising in pitch and volume. “Why I’m angry, Katara? Why do you-- Why do you think I’m angry?” Sokka raises his hands to his hair again, and they’re still trembling. The dread in Zuko’s stomach is fanning out to the rest of his body. Even his hands feel weak with it. “Why in the-- Why would you tell Zuko to tell me that?” 

Katara’s eyes widen. There’s a long moment of quiet, awful and deep compared to Sokka’s volume, and then Katara’s features twist. “Do not tell me you’re angry because Zuko told you he has feelings for you,” she demands, low and dangerous. 

Humiliation washes over Zuko, hot and sickly.

“It’s okay,” Zuko says, bursting into this terrible moment. “Let him go, Katara.”

Katara balls her fists by her side. “Tell me that isn’t it, Sokka.” 

Sokka turns for a moment, but his eyes never quite land on Zuko, like he can’t even begin to look at him. “Did you expect me to react well?” he bites out to his sister. “Did you expect me to say - oh, okay, that’s fine then, let’s just move on like nothing happened--”

“I expected you not to have your HEAD UP YOUR OWN ASS,” Katara yells, and it’s so loud, and Zuko feels sick with it. 

“Oh, that is RICH coming from you--” Sokka shouts back, and then they’re not alone - Suki is by Sokka’s side, waving behind her to pull another guard into her previous place.

“Everyone shut up,” Suki insists, stuck somewhere between anger and panic. “You are not far enough away from the party to--” 

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Sokka bursts. “You have no idea--” 

Zuko stumbles a step backwards, only thinking about getting away, and Katara steps around Sokka to get to him. “It’s okay,” Katara insists, and her voice communicates very clearly that nothing is at all okay.

“He’s not a child, Katara,” Sokka continues, spinning around to face the two of them. “You don’t have to take care of him.”

Katara’s eyes flash. “How dare you--”

“How dare I?” Sokka challenges, and then they’re shouting again, until--

“Guys!” Aang calls, running out toward them with Toph at his heels. “What is happening? We could hear you from the--” 

“Not now, Aang!” Katara bursts, and-- 

And… 

Zuko watches in horror as the clash continues. His friends continue to shout, continue to tear one another down, but it’s like Zuko is hearing it all from underwater.

How is it possible that Zuko telling Sokka how he feels has led them all here?

Katara is incandescent in her fury, and Suki is still shouting for them to stop, and Aang looks near tears, and Toph looks moments from encasing them all in earth - and they weren’t even here for the beginning of the argument. 

Sokka-- 

Zuko looks at Sokka once, at his jaw and shoulders tense in anger, and fear and guilt slice through Zuko like a blade. 

Is this just what Zuko does to people? 

(Does Zuko need to incise himself from this group like rotten flesh, before he destroys them all?)

His lips feel numb as he tries to say “stop”, but nobody hears him - or if they do, nobody listens. 

And then the air crackles with power-- 

And with a distinct boom, lightning hits the ground near Zuko’s feet. 

They fall into formation like not a day has passed since the war. 

“What,” asks Azula, her face dark with ire, “is happening here?” 

All the breath rushes back to Zuko at once, and he’s lightheaded with it.

People are still talking, Azula’s voice cutting through them with the precision of a flawless blade, but Zuko is beyond being able to make sense of it anymore. 

“Zuko.” Azula is close now, and her hands swipe roughly over his face. Zuko feels a faint jolt of alarm at her proximity, but it’s like he’s not quite in his body enough to really feel it. “Walk.”

Azula’s fingernails dig into the soft flesh of the inside of his elbow. 

Zuko walks. 

He’s aware enough of sound and colour that he knows Azula is leading him back into the celebrations, and some distant part of his mind is aware that this is a terrible idea. But Zuko doesn’t have the wherewithal to argue right now, and so he focuses solely on breathing and keeping his head up. 

Azula is talking. It takes Zuko long moments of walking to realise that she isn’t saying anything that makes sense. 

And then Zuko is sitting on the edge of his own bed, blinking, and he realises that Azula has just manoeuvred him from his crumbling friendships through a party of politicians and back to his room. 

He closes his eyes and breathes. 

“... five seconds to explain what that was before I start setting things on fire,” Azula says, low and seething, and Zuko tries to bring himself back enough to respond. 

But then another voice is saying: “I don’t think I can even explain.” It’s Katara, Zuko recognises sluggishly, like he’s thinking through water.

“I,” Zuko starts, and then clears his throat. “I told Sokka. He didn’t… take it well. That’s all.” 

“That’s all?” Katara repeats, and Zuko opens his eyes to see the raw emotion on her face. It’s too much. He looks away. “Zuko, that was-- that was not okay. I am so sorry. I am so sorry I pushed you to tell him.” 

Azula scoffs. “Okay, this I’ve got to hear. What exactly did you tell Water Tribe to make him act like that? Have you taken up murdering babies in your spare time?” When Zuko doesn’t immediately respond, she raises her eyebrows. “Was it something from the war?” 

“No,” Zuko says, and twists his trembling hands into his bedsheets. “I told him I’m in love with him.” 

Katara rushes toward him, which makes Zuko jump a little, and then she puts a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed.”

Zuko can’t face her guilt and sympathy, so he looks away. His eyes catch instead on Azula, who is scowling in confusion.

“You told him you’re in love with him,” she says slowly, “and he… yelled at you about it?” 

Azula’s bare bewilderment gives Zuko pause. He would expect something like concealed sympathy at best, and mocking at worst, but confusion from Azula is a rarity. 

“I can’t believe him,” Katara adds. 

“No.” Azula peers at Katara with suspicion. “I’m the one who doesn’t believe it.” 

“Well, for once, we’re in complete agreement.” Katara takes her hand from Zuko’s shoulder and folds her arms. 

Azula looks from Katara to Zuko, and then back again. Her frown deepens and her eyes narrow, and then all at once her face shifts. Her eyebrows shoot up as she asks: “You lovebirds did remember to tell him that this is all a fun farce, correct?”

Azula gestures between Zuko and Katara, who glance at one another.

“You told them not to listen to rumours,” Katara says, a question in her voice.

“And then you had tea with them and explained?”

“I got dragged away to deal with my outfit, but you were seeing Aang for that meeting before the party?”

“Cancelled,” Zuko explains. “Moved to breakfast tomorrow.” 

Katara’s eyes meet Zuko’s, wide and disbelieving. “Oops?”

Zuko is so tired. He closes his eyes again. “Oh. That might explain why Aang was mad.” 

Katara hums. “But it doesn’t explain why Sokka was being an ass. I should talk to him.” 

Azula sighs pointedly, and Zuko drags himself out of his exhaustion enough to look at her. Azula leans against the wall, looking theatrically at her fingernails. “Or, I don’t know, you’re both idiots and it explains it perfectly?”

“What?” Katara asks. “Why would Sokka be angry at me about that? I mean - no offence, Zuko, but it probably sounded like you were disrespecting me.” 

Zuko winces. He replays the conversation in his head. Not only does Sokka know that Zuko has feelings for him, he thinks that Zuko has feelings for him and his sister. 

But Katara is right. It doesn’t add up. That’s just more reason to be disgusted by Zuko, not by Katara. 

“Do I have to do everything around here?” Azula asks, sounding genuinely irritated. “This is worse than Ty Lee and her boyfriend. I am not here to fix your stupid relationship issues.”

“There's nothing to fix, Azula,” Zuko assures her. “You can leave. Thank you for… getting me out of there.” 

“No, wait, it doesn’t make sense,” Katara insists. She isn’t looking at Azula or Zuko anymore, but rather is looking up at the ceiling like she can parse the answers out if she just glares hard enough. “He thought we were courting. He thought you had feelings for him. He was mad at me about it.” 

Zuko just wants them to leave. He wants them to go so that he can curl up in bed and hate himself, so that he can spiral in peace. Is that really too much to ask? 

“I told him you encouraged me to talk to him about it,” Zuko explains.

Katara blinks at Zuko. “Well, that’s awkward,” she admits, “but it’s not… I’m sorry, wait, what did you say?” She turns swiftly back to Azula, who is wearing the expression of the longsuffering and deeply annoyed. “Did you say Ty Lee’s boyfriend?  Doesn’t Ty Lee date girls?”

Azula’s eyebrows creep upwards again. “She likes both. Is that really relevant right now?”

After a moment of confusingly tense silence, Katara asks in a small voice: “You can like both? Both men and women?”

Azula turns her head slowly to look at Katara properly. “Oh,” she says, her mouth curling into something vaguely amused. “So it is relevant.” 

“Oh,” Katara says in a quiet voice, and then, more loudly: “Oh. Oh spirits, Sokka.” 

And with that, Katara is rushing for the door. 

“What?” Zuko asks. 

“Welcome to not being a complete moron,” Azula calls after Katara as she shoots out the door-- 

And runs directly into Aang. 

“Ow!” 

“Aang!” Katara says as she rights them both. “Where’s Sokka?” 

“That’s why I’m here - he’s packing, I thought you’d want to--” 

“Zuko!” Katara storms back into the room and grabs him by the wrist. “Come on. With me, right now. Aang, follow us.” 

“What is happening?” Suki asks as she leaves her post by Zuko’s door. “Zuko, are you okay?”

Zuko has half a mind to dig in his heels. He thinks that Suki will be bound by her service to protect him if Katara tries to drag him against his will. But his mind is slow right now, like he has exhausted his ability to think and make decisions, and before Zuko knows it, they are all at Sokka’s door.

“Wait, no,” Zuko says, all too late. 

Katara swings the door open.

“Sokka!” 

Sokka’s room is a disaster. 

His things are strewn across the floor and his shoes are on Zuko’s desk. Not so long ago, Zuko was sitting at that desk while Sokka created a similar chaotic mess, and everything was okay, and Sokka didn’t hate him. 

Zuko can’t bring himself to look at anyone.

“Katara,” Sokka responds, his voice tense. “I don’t recall inviting everyone here.” 

It’s obvious that everyone really means Zuko. 

“Azula is right,” Katara breathes. 

“What?” Sokka asks. 

Azula pushes Zuko into the room properly. “It’s usually wise to assume I’m correct,” she comments. “You should really all listen to me more.” 

Azula sounds so oddly cheerful that Zuko is brought out of his memories and back to the moment. He hadn’t even realised Azula followed them. 

“Uh, what’s Murder Princess right about?” 

While glancing over to Toph, Zuko’s eyes accidentally catch on Sokka, and then he can’t look away.

Sokka looks awful. His hair is loose and tousled, like he’s been running his hands through it. His eyes are bloodshot. His jaw is so tense it must hurt. 

Zuko did this. His chest aches with it. And still, Sokka won’t meet his eyes. 

“You were angry because of how you feel about Zuko,” Katara breathes, moving closer to her brother. 

Sokka flinches, and flushes red, and turns a furious glare on his sister. “Katara.” 

Zuko’s heart leaps in his chest. He doesn’t know what this means, but Sokka does not look like it’s a good thing.

“No, I mean,” Katara starts, clearly flustered. “No, it’s good!”

“You’re doing this wrong,” Azula drawls. When Katara just looks over at her desperately, Azula turns her face to Zuko and says: “I’m going to have to stay in Caldera forever, aren’t I? I simply cannot trust you to run our great nation alone if you can’t even tell your friends you’re not really courting the waterbender.” 

“What?” Aang asks. 

“Really, Zuzu, I am this close to usurping you.” 

“You’re not courting?” Aang asks. 

“Of course we’re not courting!” Katara bursts. “I can’t believe you really thought we were courting!” 

“I’m sorry, did you not tell them,”  Suki adds, disbelieving. 

After a rush of sudden silence, Toph throws her head back and cackles. 

“We were pretending to court so people would leave us alone,” Katara explains. “We just… both thought the other one had… explained that.” 

Suki’s face is planted firmly in her hand. “I told you,” she says, “I told you this would blow up in your faces.”

Zuko risks a glance at Sokka. 

Sokka is looking at Zuko, finally. But Zuko’s heart drops when he takes in Sokka’s expression. He looks horrified. He looks like this has somehow made it worse, not better. Zuko swallows. 

Toph’s laughter hammers against him. 

“You guys forgot to tell us you weren’t courting!” Toph comments. “This is the best. Oh, Twinkletoes was so sad, Katara.” 

“Oh,” Katara says, managing to push more guilt into that word than Zuko knows how to deal with. “Oh, Aang, I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t do that to you. Really.” 

Sokka sits down heavily on the bed. His eyes are wide and painfully blue, and he’s still watching Zuko as if he’s witnessing a war balloon tumbling out of the sky. Zuko finally tears his eyes away, willing the mounting panic to fade from his lungs. He can’t do this all over again. 

“Everyone who isn’t Zuko, get out,” Sokka says in a firm voice. 

Zuko focuses on breathing as the room empties out. Katara squeezes his hand once. Azula is the last to leave, but she offers no particular reassurance before shutting the door behind her. 

“Zuko.” 

He remembers Katara insisting that Sokka would be sympathetic and that a confession wouldn’t ruin their friendship. Zuko has lived through the worst version of this. At least Sokka isn’t shaking in anger anymore, he thinks as he gathers the tattered remains of his courage and dignity. 

Zuko looks up. 

Sokka’s breath rushes out of him, and then he pulls it back enough to say: “I am so… I am so sorry.” 

Sympathy, Zuko thinks. Pity. This is better than anger. A sad relief flows through him. His breath trembles on the exhale.

Zuko nods. “Okay.” And then, after a moment of painful silence, he adds: “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t-- That must have been really confusing for you, thinking that I was disrespecting Katara. I really only wanted to not have secrets between us.” 

Sokka swallows, staring up at Zuko from his seat on the bed. “And I yelled at you about it. You said… And I yelled.” He closes his eyes for a moment, looking as drained as Zuko feels. “Fuck.” 

“You’re not angry now?” Zuko asks, tentatively prodding at the edges of their new dynamic. “I understand if you need time. I do understand.” 

Sokka keeps his eyes closed. He smiles a little, but it’s an awful thing, sad and strained. “I’m not angry at you,” he explains. “I’m angry at me.” 

“You didn’t know,” Zuko insists. 

“I’m in love with you,” Sokka replies, and it takes a moment for those words to settle in Zuko’s mind. When they do, Zuko’s entire being goes still. Sokka opens his eyes. He doesn’t look at Zuko. “And I fucked this up before it could even…” He trails off with a hiccup, and then turns his face away. 

“You’re…” Zuko breathes, trying to make sense of it. 

And then the world shifts, and Zuko understands. 

“Agni above, you thought I was telling you-- and that Katara and I--” 

Sokka’s face is still turned away. He huffs. “Yeah. I thought that you were telling me that you know how I feel about you, that you feel something for me too, but that you chose Katara.” 

“I would never choose anyone else before you,” Zuko says, and it comes out so fiercely that he almost wants to pull it back in, but he thinks Sokka needs to hear this. “I’m in love with you. Sokka. I’m so fucking in love with you.” 

Sokka turns back to him, and his eyes are wet, and Zuko did that. Zuko put those tears in his eyes. 

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Zuko insists. “If anyone did, it’s me-- and it’s not. I’m sorry. Sokka.” 

Zuko steps forward and plants a knee on the bed next to Sokka’s hip, and then leans down and presses their foreheads together. They’ve done this a million times, been so close that it’s pulled at Zuko’s soul; it spreads that same feeling into Zuko, like he’s vulnerable and held and desperate all at once, like he’ll never manage to be close enough.

“Zuko,” Sokka breathes, both hands coming up to frame his face. 

“I love you,” Zuko says again, because he can, because it’s free from his chest now. 

Sokka leans up and kisses him. 

The rush of it leaves Zuko dizzy. And then he’s dizzy for a whole new reason, pulled off-balance onto the bed, and Sokka is laughing against his mouth, and it’s the best thing that Zuko has ever felt. 

“I love you,” Zuko says again, and kisses him, and kisses him, and kisses him. 

Much later, Zuko thinks to warn his guards that he isn’t intending to return to his own chambers. Sokka is barely awake, still fully-clothed above the covers, and Zuko is kiss-drunk and possibly a little loopy. He tries and fails to fix his hair before opening the door. 

Two Kyoshi warriors are stationed at either side of Sokka’s door. 

And in a pile across from them lie Suki, Katara, Aang, and Toph. 

Zuko sighs. “Get in here,” he says, opening the door farther. 

By the time the others collapse into Sokka’s bed, Sokka is awake enough to find Zuko and cling to him. 

“I love you,” Sokka mumbles into Zuko’s hair. 

Surrounded by his friends, bone-tired from the most emotionally charged day he’s lived through in years, and deliriously happy, Zuko smiles. 

“Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe?” asks General Shoji, hand halfway to his tea. “You… Surely this is a joke.” 

Zuko finds himself unable to contain his smile for long enough to respond to his advisors with sufficient gravity. 

Uncle Iroh lets out a relieved sigh. “I think it is a good match,” he says, grinning over at Zuko. 

Zuko ducks his head. “I think so, too.”

Across from him, Azula rolls her eyes.