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Out of the ways Zhao could have spent his night, being beaten into the snow was not what he would’ve chosen.
The men had ambushed him. They must have seen him walking down the street and decided to wait until he walked past to attack him. Zhao would have felt a lot better about it if they had challenged him to a fight honorably. He would have welcomed that. Instead, the cowards had chosen to have two of their men restrain him before he even saw the other two.
Zhao coughed roughly as the wind was knocked out of him again with another punch to his stomach. His knees buckled, his weight relying entirely on the men holding him. Another strike across his face made him cry out, a metallic taste filling his mouth.
He could tell the men holding him were speaking to him, but he couldn’t focus on them enough to hear them clearly. He could make out ashmaker and siege, but everything beyond that was jumbled. His attention was too focused on the hits to his ribs and face that would surely bruise deep later.
A slash across his face made his mouth and hands spark. The men paused, watching Zhao carefully for any indication that he was about to bend. Zhao wheezed and kept his head bowed. He blinked slowly, blood clouding his vision and staining the snow below him. The bastard had ice in his hand.
When Zhao did nothing, the two men in front of him smirked, reeling back their hands to hit him again.
“Hey! Let go of him!” a woman screamed, her voice echoing loudly in the cold air. Zhao was sure he’d heard it before, but he couldn’t put a name to it.
“Is that-” one of the men started.
“We have to go now,” the one with the ice barked. The men holding Zhao dropped him instantly, letting him crumple to the snow. Zhao heard their footsteps grow fainter, while another set got louder before skidding to a stop. Zhao raised his head slowly to look at who had come to him.
“Princess?” Zhao panted, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Yue dropped down onto the snow next to him, eyebrows furrowing as his breath remained ragged. She reached a gloved hand out towards his face before thinking better of herself, resting her hand on his back instead.
“Are you alright? Is anything broken?” she asked softly, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as blood dripped down nearly half of his face. The garish red started above his eyebrow and stained down to his mouth, soaking his sideburns, hairline, and the collar of his parka. Yue couldn’t even tell where the blood was coming from through all of it.
“I don’t think so, Princess,” Zhao groaned, shifting slowly to settle his weight back on his hands and let himself breathe. Vaguely he wondered why Yue had helped him and how she had done so so quickly. Maybe she didn’t know it was him.
“You’re bleeding pretty bad. Let me help you up,” Yue said, pushing herself up and holding out her hands. Zhao wrapped his hands around her wrists, and she did the same: once Zhao nodded at her, Yue dug her heels into the snow and pulled.
Zhao didn't expect Yue to pull as hard as she did and nearly crashed into her when she pulled him to his feet. Yue recovered quickly, wrapping an arm around his waist to steady him.
“Woah, easy. Do you need a moment?” she asked gently. Zhao shook his head and winced.
“No, I’m alright. I can walk home by myself now, Princess. I don’t need-”
“You’re not going anywhere this late at night, especially when you’re hurt. My rooms are closer than your house. Do you think you can manage the stairs in the palace?” she interrupted. Zhao shook his head again, hiding his wince a bit better this time. Yue saw it regardless.
“Princess, I appreciate your concern. But I assure you I can make it back to my home on my own,” Zhao sighed. Yue shook her head stubbornly.
“Your face is covered in blood, Zhao. You could need stitches. At least let me make sure you don’t need a healer. Now, do you think you can manage the stairs of the palace?” Yue asked again. Zhao studied her for a moment, and she stared right back. He sighed.
“Yes, Princess, I think I can manage,” Yue nodded, adjusting her hold on him slightly and reaching around him to pull up his hood. Zhao’s nose scrunched in discomfort as the fur brushed his skin, but he was thankful for the gesture. Yue tilted her head towards the palace.
“Good, come on. I’ll tend to your wounds there,” she proclaimed. Zhao felt a smile tug at his lips in amusement.
“If you insist, Princess...Thank you.” Yue nodded, continuing to march forward towards the palace.
“Of course,” she hummed.
Zhao welcomed the comforting silence that fell between them as they walked. The wind whistled, and the snow crunched softly beneath their boots. Distantly Zhao could hear the turtleseals barking and splashing around. He shivered when the wind picked up and nipped at his face. Yue felt him warm himself through his parka and watched his next breath come out as steam from the corner of her eye.
Yue didn’t mention the use of firebending, she had seen Zhao bend before and if anything thought it was interesting how firebenders could use their element to control their own body. Besides, Yue thought it was nice to see fire bending performed calmly and without malice.
She’d seen Zhao practice early in the mornings before the sun rose: and no one else was awake but the two of them. She’d seen him use his flames to fix minor cracks in his home and to melt the snow away to form a walkway for himself when needed. It was all a lot gentler and more controlled than she was used to seeing.
But most impressively, Yue had seen Zhao change the way he used his fire since coming to the Northern Water Tribe. He would watch the waterbenders in the evening, and the following morning she would see him trying to alter waterbending forms to fit fire. It was intriguing to watch, and Yue found it particularly amusing when Zhao got frustrated and punched fire into the air.
Yue sighed, shaking herself from her thoughts as they finally reached the steps of the palace.
“Are you still doing alright? We can stop for a moment if you need,” Zhao straightened his back and shook his head. As he looked up at the palace, he exhaled softly. The side of his face closest to Yue was still dripping blood.
“I’m alright, Princess.”
“Okay, we should get inside quickly so you can rest,” Zhao hummed in agreement and began the trek up the steps. Yue remained at his side.
Once inside the palace, they walked quickly. Yue doubted they would run into any guards or servants but she didn’t want to push their luck. They advanced quietly for a few minutes, sweeping through corridors until they reached what Zhao could recognize as the hallway where the family slept. Yue put a finger to her lips as they approached.
Reaching her bedroom, Yue stopped, finally letting go of Zhao’s waist to push open the door. She smiled, turning around and holding the door open for him as he stepped inside.
“Here we are,” she said, closing the door behind her softly, “Take your parka off and sit by the fireplace please while I get what we’ll need,” she gestured towards the crackling hearth near the center of her room. Out of habit, Zhao toed his boots off and set them by the doorway before padding over to the fireplace. Folding his legs underneath himself, he took in the princess’ bedroom while Yue busied herself with rummaging through her drawers, looking for bandages and other supplies.
Yue’s bedroom was nearly double the size of Zhao’s entire home and included two archways with thick curtains made of fur and beads, which blocked Zhao’s view into the connected rooms. If Zhao had to guess, the archways probably lead into a study or a sitting room of similar size to Yue’s bedroom. Although, this was assuming the Northern Water Tribe modeled their chambers as the Fire Nation did.
Fur rugs covered nearly the entire floor of her bedroom. Idly, Zhao carded his fingers through the fur he was kneeling on and noted wistfully that nothing in his own home was of the same quality. His own furs were tattered or matted in places. He hadn’t expected taking care of fur to be so difficult, and he utterly refused to ask anyone how to do it properly at this point.
Banners, paintings, and bone carvings adorned the walls. Zhao paused for a moment and squinted at one of the paintings Yue had closest to her bed. Zhao couldn't even tell what the painting was supposed to be: the messy lines were too jumbled together to depict anything clearly. It had to have been done by a child: perhaps a village child had given the painting to her as a present, that had to be it.
Finally, in the center of the room was Yue’s bed. Piled onto the mattress were thick heavy furs and dyed blue skins. Zhao smiled as he noticed that the trim of her mauve comforter had the moon cycle embroidered onto it in neat white thread. Next to her bed was jewelry made of tusks, fur, and bones laid across her nightstand. There were a few bracelets and scattered pairs of earrings but no necklaces.
Growing bored with looking around Yue’s room, Zhao sighed. He tugged his parka off roughly and set it down beside him, grimacing when the action stretched his sore ribs. His mittens came off next, ruined, Zhao realized with a scowl. The palms of the mittens were completely burned away, leaving a charred outline of where his hands had sparked. He’d have to replace both the fur cuff and the tigerseal skin of the palm. Zhao’s scowl deepened as he placed his mittens on top of his parka and noticed how much blood had gotten on the garment.
The fire crackled, popping quietly as a breeze from the window behind him drifted into the room. The noise drew Zhao out of his brooding, his attention now focussed on the flame. Zhao shifted closer to the fire, only lifting his eyes from the soft orange light when he felt something heavy placed on his shoulders.
“Do you do that on purpose?” Yue asked, brushing her hands over the blanket she’d placed on his shoulders to smooth the fur down.
“Do what?” Zhao asked, his gaze following the princess as she knelt down across from him.
“The fire, it’s matching your breath,” Yue elaborated, setting down her supplies by her side. The jars clinked like marbles against each other, the bowl of water settling with a hollow thud.
“I usually do it on purpose, but I wasn’t just then. It’s a habit, I suppose,” he mumbled. The blood on his face was beginning to dry. Zhao moved his hand to scratch at it when Yue shook her head.
“Don’t. I’ll take care of it. Will you let me see your face?” She said, reaching out to hold his jaw. He nodded, giving her silent permission to touch him. Yue smiled at him and took his chin in her hand.
“I think the bleeding has mostly stopped. I’m going to wash the blood off, and then we can see how badly you’re hurt. Please tell me if I do something that hurts,” Yue dipped a cloth into her bowl of water, wringing it out and raising the damp cloth to Zhao’s forehead.
Zhao swallowed, his gaze going back to the fire as he realized just how close Yue was to him. It was necessary, he knew that, but it still bordered on improper.
Yue dabbed at brow gently, wetting and wringing out the cloth frequently. She frowned as the water in her bowl became darker with each pass over Zhao’s skin.
The most substantial wound was the gash across his cheekbone, starting at his hairline and ending just shy of his nose. There was another cut to his eyebrow, he had a split lip, and he would probably have a black eye in the morning. The fire flared for a moment when Yue dabbed at the gash on his cheek despite Zhao’s face remaining the same. Yue didn’t comment: instead, she moved on wordlessly to cleaning underneath the wound, carefully removing the blood from his sideburns and mouth.
“What were you doing out so late anyway?” she asked, attempting to distract him from the discomfort.
“I was just walking,” Zhao murmured.
“And those men?” the firebender’s eyes narrowed.
“I didn’t do anything. They were the ones with a bone to pick, Princess,” Zhao snapped. Yue stopped and sat back onto her heels, setting down the bowl and cloth.
“I never said I thought you did anything,” she soothed. Zhao’s eyes widened slightly, and the fire flickered. He studied her face for a moment before he bowed his head, suddenly finding the stained hood of his parka interesting.
“What were you doing out so late, Princess?” he asked, clearing his throat as he did so.
“The same as you, it's a good night for a walk under the moonlight. I’m going to start with the gash on your cheek now since it’s the worst of your injuries,” Yue said. Zhao made a noise in the back of his throat which Yue took as his reluctant acceptance.
Yue picked up a fresh cloth and one of the many jars she had found. She opened it carefully and soaked a section of the cloth with it. Shuffling closer to Zhao, Yue turned his cheek towards her slightly before pressing the soaked cloth against the gash.
Zhao hissed sharply, and the fire flared enough to make both of them flinch in surprise. He jerked his head away from Yue and leaned away from her slightly. Yue frowned, taking his chin in her hand again gently and guiding him forward. If she noticed his glaring, she didn’t acknowledge it.
“I'm sorry, I know it stings. Try not to squirm, please,” she said, tilting Zhao’s head towards the fire to get a better look. He scowled, crossing his arms.
“You didn’t warn me that it would sting like that. And I wasn’t squirming. Do you even know what you’re doing?” Zhao huffed, flinching when Yue pressed the cloth to his cheek again.
“I know what I’m doing, Zhao. Now stop moving. The quicker I get it done, the quicker it’ll stop stinging,” she promised. Zhao rolled his eyes, his patience thinning as she continued with the treatment.
“Why don’t you take me to one of your beloved healers? Or am I not worth such an expense?” he grumbled. Zhao knew that was an overdramatic thing to say, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about it when it felt like Yue was cutting his face open again with whatever was on that cloth. Yue sighed.
“Of course you are,” she said, stroking her thumb across the unmarred skin of Zhao’s cheek underneath the gash. Zhao tensed, bronze eyes darting up to meet baby blue.
“Of course you're worth healers, Zhao. I am not denying you out of malice,” she paused, letting what she said sink in before she continued.
“Most of the healers are married, their husbands could be the same men who did this to you. It's safer that I take care of you,” Yue huffed, her gaze dropping back to the cloth in her hand as she reapplied the contents of the jar to it.
“Besides, it’s nothing I can’t patch up. Now stay still, I know it hurts. I'm working as fast as I can,” she said.
“Yes, Princess,” Zhao yielded, and Yue continued tending to his cheek. He managed to stay quiet and still for about a minute before lost his patience and began to complain again.
“How are you not done yet? It’s just a scrape,” Zhao grumbled.
“Scrapes don't go halfway across your face, Zhao. You’re lucky you don't need stitches. Now, I'm almost done. So no more talking until I say so,” Yue said. Carefully she took out two strips of fabric and dipped them into the contents of yet another jar. Zhao probably should have asked what they contained but, she had said not to talk. So he remained quiet and watched her movements passively.
Laying the strips of fabric over the lip of the jar to partially dry, Yue opened the last jar that Zhao recognized contained a salve. Scooping a bit onto her fingertips, she smoothed the salve over his cut gently. Zhao exhaled softly, and the fire flickered with him.
“This will pinch for a second but try not to flinch,” Yue murmured, picking up the strips of fabric she’d laid out. Carefully, Yue placed one end of the piece of fabric above the cut then she pinched his cheek slightly so that the gash was now only partially open. Yue repeated the process and then held her fingers against the bandages for a moment to ensure they stuck to his skin.
“There it's done,” she said happily, “Now, let me see your lip.”
“It’s fine, Princess,” Zhao argued.
“Well, I say it's not, now hush so I can fix it,” Yue instructed, shuffling even closer to him.
“You’ve done more than enough for me, Princess. It's a split lip. It barely hurts,” Zhao tried.
“Are you going to argue with me over every injury I try to treat?” she asked sternly despite the tug at her lips, taking his jaw in her hand again and squeezing lightly in chastisement.
“Probably,” Zhao smirked, succeeding in reopening his lip and causing it to begin to bleed again. Yue clicked her tongue at him, blotting the blood away hastily.
“You're so stubborn, do you know that? You're lucky I like that about you,” Yue mused. Zhao hummed, relaxing his mouth to let her work.
With Yue’s attention solely on her task, and his own mind no longer clouded by the prickly pain of his cheek which had now subsided due to Yue’s help, Zhao allowed himself to really look at the princess.
Yue had grown into her title the past couple of years. She was still young, but she was by no means a child anymore. From what Zhao had heard, many people in the upper councils thought she had the potential to become a great chief someday. Her people loved her, and Zhao himself was among them.
She was exceedingly kind to her people and listened to them readily when they came to her with their concerns. Yue acted so differently from the royalty Zhao was used to, and he found after a year of living in the north that he preferred her version of being royal.
Zhao still didn’t quite understand why she fought to have him freed when the terms of his imprisonment were still being debated. Having a teenager as the only person on his side wasn’t exactly the highest point of his life, but he was grateful for it. Without her, her father would have thrown him into the tundra personally and left him there: she awarded him a chance to redeem himself.
As he exhaled, the light from the fire warmed her face. Her eyebrows had drawn together in concentration, but the rest of her face was soft. A piece of her hair had come undone from the large braid it was in down her back: it probably came loose when she ran to help him. He wanted to fix it, but he didn’t want to overstep so he kept his hands busy with fiddling the hem of his shirt instead as Yue continued her work.
While Zhao had seen Yue plenty of times around Agna Qel’a and nodded to her in passing, they had only spoken a handful of times since he was freed. After her father released him, Yue had asked him to check in with her every once in a while, and he obliged.
She said it was so she could ensure that he wasn’t without at least one person to help him if he needed. Yue was aware that living in the north was vastly different from living in the Fire Nation, and she didn’t want him to freeze to death simply because he didn’t know something everyone else around him grew up knowing.
He enjoyed his visits with her, as short and shallow as they were. Zhao’s throat tightened when he realized this was the longest he’d ever spent with the princess at one time.
“I’m proud of you, by the way,” Yue said, breaking Zhao out of his thoughts as she finished with his lip. Zhao raised an eyebrow at her: the uncut one Yue noted, thankfully, as she moved onto her next task.
“For what?” he asked.
“You and I both know you could've turned the men who attacked you into nothing but soot in the snow. You didn't,” Yue said, her voice uncharacteristically grave. Zhao rubbed at the back of his neck absently.
“It’s not like I had a choice. I would've been executed within the hour if I had so much as scorched any of them,” Zhao dismissed. Yue frowned, settling her hands in her lap and looking Zhao in the eye.
“You did have a choice, and you chose to restrain yourself. Whatever your reasons were tonight, two years ago, you wouldn't have made the same decision. I'm proud of you,” she said firmly. Zhao leaned forward, ignoring the pain in his sides at the movement.
“Proud, or just thankful I let some of your people live?” he asked, watching the princess carefully. The light from the fire licked at her face, blending with the moonlight from the window behind Zhao seamlessly.
“Proud,” she answered immediately, “I'm thankful that those men ran off before they hurt you further. Your lip and brow are done, so try not to stretch them too much. Where else are you hurt?” Yue asked, holding eye contact with the firebender.
“Princess, really-” Zhao sighed, about to assert that she had done enough for him and that he really should be heading home to avoid abusing her generosity when she cut him off.
“Zhao, you’re not imposing, I promise. Now, as your princess, I expect you to answer me truthfully. Where else are you hurt?” Yue repeated. Zhao, for a fleeting moment, wondered if Yue had read his mind: but he banished the thought with a shake of his head. He took a breath, straightening his back and rolling his shoulders to feel where he was sore. He and the fire hissed in unison as he stretched himself a bit too far.
“I think my ribs and stomach took the most of it,” he gasped, rubbing his side as he settled back down.
“You’re sure nothing is broken?” Yue asked tentatively.
“I don’t think so, Princess. I didn’t hear anything snap, and nothing feels out of place,” Yue frowned, worrying her lip for a moment before her face brightened, glacier blue eyes glimmering.
“Do you trust me?” Yue asked, clasping her hands in front of herself and leaning forward.
“I do, Princess,” Zhao said with a nod. Why he chose to admit that, he didn’t know. But Zhao realized he didn’t mind that he did when Yue smiled at him as she stood.
“I’ll be right back then. While I’m gone, put some of that cream on any sore spots, it helps with bruises and pain. If there are any places you can’t reach, I’ll help you when I come back,” Yue said, pointing to the correct jar she wanted Zhao to use. Zhao picked the jar up carefully, turning it over in his hands.
“How long will you be gone?” he asked, unscrewing the jar and inspecting its contents curiously.
“I shouldn’t be long, only a few minutes. If anyone comes by, they shouldn’t, but just in case, hide in there,” Yue tilted her head towards the curtain closest to Zhao as she spoke. Zhao nodded.
“Thank you,” he said, lifting his head to give her a soft grin. Yue's smile widened.
“I’ll be back soon. I’ll knock three times when I return,” Zhao watched Yue leave, her hair sweeping behind her as the door swung shut. He waited for the patter of her footsteps to fade away entirely before he began to move.
Pocketing the jar of cream, Zhao rose reluctantly from his place by the fire and made his way over to the long mirror Yue had situated by her dresser. He undid the ties of his shirt and shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor as he turned to inspect himself. The reflection that greeted Zhao wasn’t surprising by any means, but it was still unpleasant.
Red splotchy bruises decorated his ribs, chest, and stomach. Some of the more swollen spots of his sides were already darkening. His entire torso would be a tender collage of purples and blues by the morning, Zhao thought miserably. Hopefully, the cream Yue had given him would lessen the damage.
Finished with inspecting his torso, Zhao’s eyes drifted up to his arms. Much darker bruises had already bloomed around his biceps. Blurred handprints where the men had grabbed him and held him in place. Zhao would have scowled if he could have without straining his lip and cheek, bringing his gaze to his face. Yue had done an excellent job, and from what he could tell, at worst, he’d have a few faint scars after everything healed. Zhao didn’t mind. He sighed, opening the cream and beginning to apply it over himself gingerly.
The process didn’t take long. By the time Zhao was screwing the jar shut, he could hear Yue’s footsteps return, quickly followed by three dull thuds that rattled her bedroom door. He moved to open the door quickly, standing to the side to let the princess enter. Yue strode into the room with a happy hum.
“I was successful in my mission,” she said cheerfully, setting down the large tray she was holding in front of the fire. Yue spun around to face Zhao, her face growing serious as she approached him.
“Is there anywhere you couldn’t reach?” she asked, stepping closer to look over his bruises. Zhao let her see for herself, turning when she instructed him to do so. Yue’s forehead creased, and her lips pursed as she looked him over.
“Should we wrap your ribs? They look pretty bruised,” Yue asked, ghosting her fingertips over a particularly dark bruise on his stomach. Zhao’s breath hitched quietly at the contact.
“Did that hurt?” Yue pulled her hand away, “I’m sorry-” Zhao shook his head, cutting off Yue’s apology.
“It didn’t hurt. I was just surprised,” he assured.
“And, they’re better unwrapped, Princess. Wrapping them would only restrict my breathing,” Zhao explained. Yue made a quiet noise in the back of her throat, staring at his chest for another moment before nodding to herself. Stepping away, Yue picked up Zhao’s shirt from where he’d left it on the floor and shook it.
“Here, before you catch a chill,” Yue lifted his shirt, helping Zhao guide his arms into the sleeves without straining his ribs. Rounding Zhao, Yue stood in front of him and smoothed the shirt down. Even through his shirt, the heat from his skin seeped through and warmed Yue’s palms. Zhao watched her silently as she fastened the ties of his shirt. Yue looked up at him, smiling when she found he was already looking at her.
“Come sit. I brought food,” Zhao followed Yue back over to the fire. Making a conscious effort not to make the fire flare as he processed how close she had been standing him just then. Sitting down, Zhao’s eyes widened as he took in what Yue had brought.
There was Water Tribe food, of course: raw blubber, dried fish, seal jerky, kale cookies, tentacle and seaweed soup, even giant sea crab- which Zhao knew for a fact was exceedingly expensive -but what caught his attention was the Fire Nation food.
There were lychees, milk bread rolls, fire flakes, rice candy, spicy onigiri, and what looked like a bottle of melon juice. He’d had nothing but Water Tribe food for the past two years. Zhao had tried to get ahold of the milder spices imported from the Earth Kingdom, but he couldn’t rationalize the money it would cost with how little he earned. Zhao felt his mouth water at the prospect of a taste of home.
“May I?” Zhao asked, suddenly starving. Yue handed him a plate with a nod.
“Of course, have as much as you’d like.”
“Thank you, Princess,” Zhao said, restraining himself only slightly as he filled his plate. Yue’s chest warmed as she watched him. Amber eyes the brightest she had seen them the whole night. Yue smiled to herself as she picked out her food. It was nice to see him excited about something.
“I would have gone with you to help carry this if you had told me you were bringing back a feast,” the cork of the juice bottle popped as Zhao opened it. Pouring a cup for Yue and sliding it towards her before pouring a cup for himself.
“It wouldn’t have been a surprise if I brought you with me. It wasn’t that heavy. If I can carry you, I can carry a tray,” Yue teased. Zhao scoffed half-heartedly but gave no other indication that he was genuinely annoyed with her comment.
“Consider me surprised, Princess. How did you get Fire Nation food? I thought the North only traded with the Earth Kingdom,” Zhao wrapped the blanket Yue had draped across him earlier around himself.
“My friend Sokka sends me foods he thinks I would like from the Fire Nation. If he can’t send the food, he sends ingredients and recipes. This is the most recent batch of food he’s sent for me to try,” Zhao’s lips pursed slightly, his uninjured eyebrow quirked up.
“Sokka doesn’t sound very Fire Nation,” he said, his voice flat. Yue shook her head.
“Sokka’s from the Southern Tribe. He’s Fire Lord Zuko’s Ambassador now. He’s friends with the Avatar,” blurry memories of a Water Tribe boy that’d been with the Avatar flashed through Zhao’s mind. The same boy he’d apprehended at Avatar Roku’s temple, although Yue didn’t have to know that.
“He was the boy with you at the Oasis,” Zhao said after a moment, looking to Yue, who nodded.
“Yes, he was. I’m surprised you remember.”
Zhao did remember. He’d spent too much of his first year in the north analyzing every part of that day, and his actions that lead up to it, to forget. Sitting with Yue, Zhao regretted how ignorant and obsessive he’d been about the Water Tribes. The moon spirit in particular. With his gaze down, he could only see part of Yue’s braid, but the sections of black hair against the white were a stark reminder of his actions during the siege.
As Zhao became lost in thought, the room warmed, the fire growing just shy of dangerous. Yue flinched when the flames popped loudly. Reaching forward, she put a hand on Zhao’s knee, her other hand picking up a bowl of soup.
“Could you heat this for me, please?” She asked in an attempt to distract him and held out her bowl towards him. Zhao hummed, igniting a flame and guiding it towards the soup. Yue watched the flame flicker in his palm, the fireplace calming as Zhao focused on what he was doing instead of whatever memories Yue had accidentally brought up.
“Is bending harder here?” Yue asked softly.
"It was, but I think I’m used to it now. It only gets difficult when the days get shorter or particularly cold,” he admitted, letting the flame he’d been holding jump over to the fireplace. Yue sipped her soup carefully before speaking again.
“I wonder if they feel different,” she pondered.
“If what feels different?”
“The types of bending. If bending water feels different from how bending fire feels,” Zhao shrugged.
“I'd imagine they would. You’d have to ask the Avatar.”
“I will ask him next time he visits the north,” she promised, “Would you mind telling me what everything is? Sokka didn’t send descriptions,” Yue asked, poking at the jar of rice candies.
“This is sweet. You might like it,” Zhao said, tearing the roll he had in his hand in half and handing the larger half to Yue. She took the warm roll eagerly, patting it between her hands before biting into it. Yue’s eyes widened, glimmering in the warm light from the fire.
“It’s so fluffy,” she gushed, taking another bite. Zhao opened the jar of candies, shaking a few out for the two of them. He watched as Yue took one and began to pick at the paper, laughing softly.
“You don’t take off the paper, Princess. It’s edible,” he said, popping one into his mouth. Yue copied him.
“What else?” she asked, leaning forward as Zhao began to describe the food she’d brought him. Yue tried everything eagerly. She liked the milk bread rolls and rice candy the best. Although, she left most of the Fire Nation food for Zhao, which he appreciated.
Conversation came easily as they ate, talking about nothing of great importance but pleasant all the same. Zhao told Yue about his last hunt and how he’d been doing since she last spoke with him. Yue told him about the upcoming festival she was helping plan. As well as news from the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation that she thought he would interest him. They told jokes and stories, basking in each other’s laughter and company as they ate.
They must have spoken for well over an hour before the conversation began to dwindle. With their hunger sated, both of them fell quiet as the warmth from the fire settled over them. Zhao began to fidget, unsure of what to do with himself now that he had run out of reasons to stay in the princess’ company.
“You should stay,” Yue offered suddenly. The fire flared, and Zhao’s eyes widened, jaw going slightly slack.
“I don’t think that your father would appreciate me staying here. Considering I am a man and you-” Zhao stammered, colour rising in his cheeks as he moved his hands, trying to express what he meant.
“Zhao,” Yue interrupted, “I meant staying in one of the guest quarters.”
“Oh...Forgive me for presuming, Princess. I misunderstood,” Zhao blanched, bowing his head in apology. Yue giggled at the gesture.
“There’s nothing to forgive, Zhao. There are empty guest quarters down the hall where you can stay. I don’t want you to have to walk back home now that the temperatures have dropped. I trust you can start a fire in one of the rooms without help. You wake up early, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do,” Zhao lifted his head.
“Then we should be able to sneak you out early before the servants start their work. No one will know you were here but me.”
“Thank you, Princess,” he sighed.
“Of course. Come on, I’ll walk you there,” Yue stood patiently, waiting as Zhao collected his parka, mittens, and boots. Once he was ready, Yue pushed open the door, checked to make sure there were no stray guards and began leading Zhao through the hallways.
Zhao walked by her side, and soft footsteps echoing dully off the icy walls and filling the space between them. As they walked, Zhao picked at the fur of his parka. Yue did the same inside her sleeves. The walk ended sooner than both of them would have liked, halting in front of one of the guest rooms.
“Here,” Yue whispered, pushing the door open and stepping aside. Zhao stepped inside the doorway but didn’t fully enter the room. Instead, Zhao turned around to face Yue.
“Thank you,” he whispered back.
“You’re welcome. I’ll see you in the morning,” Yue promised.
With that, Yue bowed her head politely and began walking back to her chambers. Zhao watched her go, fidgeting in the doorway as Yue walked further and further away. His palms threatened to spark the longer he stayed still, mind racing at how horrible an idea what he was about to do was. With his heart nearly in his throat, Zhao stepped forward and spoke, albeit a little bit louder than he intended before he could convince himself not to.
“Princess!” he called. With her back turned, Yue closed her eyes and smiled before composing herself and walking back to Zhao calmly. His eyes widened as if he didn’t quite mean to speak. Or maybe he didn’t expect her to stop. Either way, Yue watched him straighten his back and shift his weight awkwardly for a moment before speaking again.
“Would you like to, I mean,” he swallowed, “Would you allow me the honor of hosting you at my home sometime in the future? As repayment for your kindness tonight,” Yue blinked, the corner of her mouth twitching as she considered his offer. She let Zhao wait for a torturous moment before she spoke.
“Would the next quarter moon be alright?” she smiled, rocking back on her heels. Zhao nodded quickly, face brightening.
“Yes, that would be more than alright,” he grinned, letting out a breathy laugh. Yue thought it sounded nice.
“I look forward to it then,” Yue assured, her voice soft as she looked up at Zhao.
“Goodnight, Princess,” Zhao said, looking back at her steadily, his eyes warm.
“Goodnight, Zhao,” Yue said back fondly. Zhao nodded with another grin, finally stepping inside the guest room and shutting the door behind him. Collapsing against the door, he sighed.
“Sleep well, Yue,” Zhao whispered to himself behind the door. Yue heard him anyway.