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As the leader of the Fire Nation, Zuko could proudly say the nation made progress in the three years after the war. Significant progress, at that. The school curriculum was changed. Health care was free and accessible, even in remote areas. The stupid marriage laws were lifted. People were free to disagree with him—and often did, loudly, without fear of repercussions. Several newspapers sprang up, both small and large, all with a smattering of different reporters and different points of view.
Including some that were, well, less than perfect. Not that Zuko thought they had to be perfect-perfect, but he’d appreciate it if they tried a little harder than just recirculating the latest gossip that sparked through the city.
Mostly because Zuko was very, very tired. After so much nonstop work, sometimes he felt his head was barely steady on his shoulders and that the smallest bump would come along and his head would roll right off his body and leave him scrambling around, searching for a way to put himself together again.
And today was not helping. Zuko curled the thin paper in his hand, leaned back against the settee in the reception area of the royal apartment, and sighed. Deep breaths. In and out.
“You look like you just went five rounds with a catgator,” Sokka said as he set the teapot on the table in front of them and then flopped down next to Zuko. He leaned in and rested his head against Zuko’s shoulders—despite the fact the sun had risen in earnest and now streamed in the windows, warming the wooden floors and the fabric of Zuko’s robes, Sokka’s hair still hung loose and sleepy around his chin and he hadn’t yet bothered to change out of his sleep clothes. Not that he was likely to anytime soon.
Zuko threw the paper onto the table. “I feel like I went five rounds with a catgator,” he mumbled.
Sokka’s frown deepened. “What’s up?”
“Well,” Zuko started, flustered, “just look.”
Sokka straightened up and peered at the paper. “Caldera Daily? Babe, last month they printed a whole article claiming that an official announcement of King Bumi and King Kuei’s engagement would be coming any day.”
“I know it’s trash. But it’s the second most popular paper in the city.”
Sokka shrugged. “People love gossip. Whatever it is, it’ll blow over next time Appa sneezes on a dignitary.”
“But did you see the headline today?” Zuko’s face burned. He couldn’t bring himself to say those words out loud. It was as if there was a rock on his tongue, holding it in place.
Sokka leaned forward, scooped up the paper, and shook it open. His expression fell—curious to deflated. “Oh.” His lips flattened into a line.
Right there, splattered in black ink across the front page, was the headline: Tensions Brewing? Fire Lord stiffs Water Tribe Ambassador.
“Oh,” Sokka repeated as he ran his hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face. “I mean, at least it’s on the bottom of the front page?”
Zuko frowned. The top part, the one right under the headline, was about the peace summit. Thankfully.
“It’s not that bad,” Sokka said. A crease folded between his eyebrows as he concentrated. “ ‘Despite the progress of peace between the nations made at yesterday’s summit, several onlookers couldn’t help but notice not all went so swimmingly —’ ugh, why do they always have to use water puns— ‘between the people. Most notedly, the Fire Lord refused to shake the ambassador to the Southern Water Tribe’s hand at the closing ceremonies.’ ”
“Sokka. I am begging you to stop. You know it’s a real possibility that I might actually burst into flames.”
“Nah, you haven’t done that since the first time we made out.”
Zuko lifted the decorative pillow next to him and buried his face in the dark red velvet. “I’m never showing my face in public again.”
Sokka rubbed a soft circle on his back. “Hey, hey. It’s alright. I mean, when we agreed on keeping our relationship private for a little longer, I didn’t think you would actually try and pretend I didn’t exist—”
“I panicked! There were so many people watching and I didn’t know how to shake your hand like I didn’t know you, because that would’ve been weird, and so I just—I just—”
“Walked straight past me to the Northern ambassador?”
Zuko lifted his head from the pillow. “Yes,” he said, defeated.
Sokka pressed a kiss against his cheek. “Okay, I won’t lie. It might’ve been an awkward moment. But give it a week or two and absolutely no one will even remember it happened, okay? And, if worst comes to worst, I’m sure Aang will jump at the chance to ride his airscooter around the next meeting and then people will really forget about us.”
Zuko took a deep breath, turned to Sokka, and gave him a wan smile. “Okay.”
“Good. Now, let’s get to the tea before it’s over-steeped. Your uncle gave me very specific instructions.”
One week passed. And then another. And another after that.
People did not forget, as Sokka had promised.
If anything, it only got much, much worse. Sokka had gone back home, too, so Zuko couldn’t even wrap his hands around him and hold him close until the anxiety that swelled in his chest let up.
Instead, he’d gone to the training room and run through every kanta he could think of ten times until his muscles ached and a sheen of sweat covered his skin.
When he reached his rooms, though, exhausted and worn-through, the paper still sat square in the centre of his desk where he’d left it.
After he bathed, it still hadn’t moved. Nor did it disappear when he went for dinner. When he came back after changing into his nightclothes, it hadn’t budged either.
The problem, it seemed, wasn’t going anywhere. Not for now. Which left one option: deal with it.
Dear Sokka, he wrote, Sorry to be contacting you so soon about something unpleasant. In fact, I’m sure this letter will make it to the pole before you even arrive. In which case, I hope your journey was pleasant. But I’m really, really going to have to insist you stop calling me a jerkbender. (Or any diminutive thereof.) It seems that the press was listening yesterday when the boat took off. I’ve enclosed the article, for your reading pleasure.
Ten days later, Zuko received the note:
How come when you do something, it makes the front page, but when I do something, it only hits page 3?
Zuko didn’t finish the rest of the letter before he started on his own reply. You better not be thinking of ways to get above the fold.
As it turned out, things did die down. The distance was enough to stave off rumours of any potential rivalry, especially when there were more important issues for Caldera Daily to focus on—such as where Azula and Ty Lee had gone on vacation or what kind of latest design Mai wore.
But that could only hold the attention away from Zuko for so long.
Caldera Daily, of course, had to turn its attention toward Zuko’s love life. Zuko flipped through the paper over breakfast, one hand thumbing the pages, the other around the chopsticks over his bowl of rice.
Summer fling or real thing? Since the young royal’s breakup with Mai (the renowned designer and daughter of ex-Omashu governor Ukano) nearly two years ago now, the Fire Lord has remained notoriously private about his love life. However, that may not be the case forever. Inside sources tell us the Fire Lord has been entertaining a nightly visitor as of late. Though the identity of the paramour is close guarded secret, sources say that Fire Lord Zuko’s firebending skills only are only second to his fiery skills when it comes to love—
Zuko started a spark from his fingers. The flames curled up the paper and left black flakes spiralling to the ground and a puff of smoke rising in the air.
“Um, Your Majesty?” the server said, her eyes wide.
Zuko stared at the ash on the floor. “I—I’ll clean that up. You’re dismissed.”
The girl nodded and turned sharply for the door.
“And please let the kitchens know I’ll take my breakfast in my rooms tomorrow.”
In the following week, the newspapers were quiet. Thankfully. Well, they were quiet for Zuko, at least—a famous playwright unexpectedly married one of the stars of her plays and Caldera Daily had devoted an entire section to the timeline of their relationship.
As brutal as it was, Zuko couldn’t help thinking it was better them than him for the time being.
On another high note, Zuko managed to leave for the Earth Kingdom for wedding with relatively little fanfare. And, in the Earth Kingdom, he would finally be able to see Sokka again and Aang and Katara and Toph.
Three months away from Sokka didn’t sound like much when he said it that way—the peace summit in Caldera wasn’t that long ago—but the ache in his core made the time pass like tar. If this Earth Princess wasn’t getting married, it would’ve been another two months before he got the chance to see Sokka again. That would’ve been torture—the only worse way Zuko imagined passing time would be if he had to wander through the Earth Kindgom again without any coins in his pockets.
When Zuko arrived, his whole body buzzed, both with excitement to see Sokka again and in admiration of the event. Clearly, no expense had been spared. It was impossible not to feel swept away in the ambiance of it all—the grand hall overflowed with lilies that decorated every wall and table, the music reverberated in his chest, the polished cherry wood of the floor reflected the candle lights. This was only the welcome event; the actually wedding itself wasn’t for another three days. Zuko could only imagine how oppulant that would be.
People of all nations were dressed in their best clothes. Spring-green silks swirled around the floor like leaves falling from a tree as couples danced before him. Some warm red robes speckled the crowd, along with blue dresses and tunics that rippled like the ocean after a storm.
Zuko scanned the dense crowd. He frowned. “Excuse me,” he said to one of the Water Tribe men with a vaguely familiar face. “Have you seen the ambassador around?”
The man shook his head and told Zuko that no, he hadn’t. His friend hadn’t either, nor had anyone who Zuko tried to ask.
The night wore on. The crowd was large—larger than any event where he’d been able to mingle freely in the last while—and a headache started to grow with each trivial conversation and forced laugh.
The world had long since grown dark when someone lightly tapped his arm. “Zuko?”
He turned around, hand tight on his drink. If he had to endure another conversation about taxation, he might wither away on the spot.
But standing there, wrapped in soft fabrics the colour of her eyes, was Katara. She pulled him into a tight hug. “Oh, it’s so great to see you. I’ve been looking for a friendly face.”
Zuko gave her a soft squeeze before stepping back. “I have too, to be honest.”
“The priest marrying the couple wanted to talk to Aang, so I’ve been fending for myself tonight. It might not have been so bad if someone actually wanted to talk to me and not the girl dating the Avatar.”
Zuko nodded along. “I’ve had many conversations tonight as the Fire Lord.”
“Well, hopefully we can have one as Katara and Zuko.”
“That would be great.” Zuko smiled and, feeling awkward, cleared his throat. Given what Katara had just told him, he probably shouldn’t want to ask what he did, but his slight disappointment in not finding Sokka straight away had morphed into concern. “Um, you wouldn’t have happened to see your brother, would you? Not that you’re not great company—we just planned to meet tonight.”
Thankfully, Katara didn’t take offense. “Unfortunately I don’t think he’ll get here until tomorrow afternoon, now. He got held up with some work—the ice in the south melted more in this summer than we’d expected and now the plans for the new homes they were going to build there have to be redone. He wanted to settle the business with some supplier in Omashu and then forget about work for the rest of the week.”
Zuko nodded along. Sokka had mentioned that in one of his letters. Clearly, he hadn’t managed to square it all away in time like he’d originally planned.
Katara sipped her drink. “Hawy also turned out to be Hawkette and is currently taking some needed downtime. So, congratulations on the three new chicks you and Sokka now have to look after.”
Zuko sighed. “What did he name them?”
“I’ll let him tell you.”
Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. He was about to lament Sokka’s lack of naming talent when, in front of him, Katara’s eyes widened. “Don’t look,” she whispered, “but Minister Liu’s son is coming. Last time we met, he wasn’t even interested in talking to me as the Avatar’s girlfriend. He literally asked me to dinner in front of Aang.”
“What an ass.” The music shifted; a new dance was about to begin. “Well, in that case, may I have this dance?” Zuko held out his hand to Katara, the way that he’d been instructed to do time and time again.
With an over-exaggerated curtsey, Katara took his hand. “I’d be honoured.”
As they spun along to the beat, Zuko could see the minister’s son on the edge of the room, glaring daggers. Katara giggled into Zuko’s collar and Zuko sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, very determined not to giggle back. The Fire Lord did not giggle. Not at all.
Never.
Though, when the dance ended and the minister’s son tried to cut through the crowd once more, Zuko may have snorted. Only a little.
True to Katara’s word, Sokka arrived the next afternoon. Before the formal dinner, the two of them stole away a moment in Zuko’s chambers, which looked out over the lake behind the estate. At the other end, the mountain jutted up on the horizon, green trees and grey rock against blue sky.
“No fair,” Sokka said as he leaned against the rail of the balcony. Sunlight caught the warmth of his skin; soft freckles from a summer spent outside peaked out around his nose. “You always get the room with the best view.”
“Trade you,” Zuko replied. “You can have the nice view and then also have to deal with tax law and design educational reform and pay out reparations and shut down insurrectionists and play mediator to the council—”
“I get it, I get it. Be careful what you wish for.” Sokka turned and circled Zuko’s waist with his hands. “I’m just happy we have time together.”
Zuko pressed a kiss against his lips. “Me too.” He leaned forward and rested his forehead against Sokka’s. He could stay like this forever, he thought. Just the two of them, not a worry in the world.
And, in a streak of luck, the next days passed in a blur similar to that moment. Stealing away moments with Sokka. Dining with friends. Walking around the lake, skipping rocks over the glass surface. Finding Sokka, again and again, whenever they had a second they could spare.
The wedding added to the bliss of it all in a way that never seemed possible at peace summits or meetings or even on vacation. Everyone around was in a good mood that seemed to hang in the air, even when the people had left. The sun itself even gave a good show—the days where warm and bright and long and ended in pools of orange and red and gold.
Like all blissful things, though, it had to come to an end.
Zuko’s bags and trunk were packed. There were carriages waiting out front of the estate, ready to whisk them away to the boat that would bring the Fire Nation dignitaries home.
Sokka sat at the foot of his bed, a thoughtful expression across his face. His eyes didn’t leave Zuko as he moved through the chamber, gathering what he needed. “This was too short,” he said.
Zuko nodded.
“I’ve got to go home, first, but I’m coming to the Fire Nation the first chance I get, alright.”
Zuko stopped pacing and turned. He moved forward, toward Sokka, and took both his hands. “I’ve been thinking—what if I came to you? It’s been so long since I’ve been down South. I’m sure the ministers will agree it’s necessary.”
“I’d like that. A lot.” Sokka flashed his smile that gleamed with hope and determination.
“Good. Even a month seems too long.”
“It does.”
Zuko kissed him. Sokka’s hands reached around his head. There was nothing more that Zuko wanted than for those seconds to stretch out—what if there was no carriage waiting? What if they could do this anytime, whenever they wanted? It felt impossible to even desire so much.
“A month,” Zuko whispered as they parted. “I’ll see you in a month. I promise.”
“See you then.”
Zuko was nearly at the carriage when he realized he’d forgotten to ask something very, very important. When he made his way back, Sokka was still in the hall outside his room, studying the tapestries.
“Oh,” Sokka said when Zuko asked. “The chicks—they’re called Hawk, Rock, and Roll.”
“You named a hawk… Hawk?”
“Hawky Jr, for short.”
Zuko blinked. “A month. I’ll see you again in a month.”
The trip back was smooth as it could’ve been. Even the sea wasn’t as choppy as normal. When Zuko got to his rooms in the palace once more, the bliss of the wedding and his time with Sokka and his friends still wrapped around him like a warm cocoon. For the first time in, well, forever, he finally understood vacations. They didn’t always have to be stressful meetings and stiff dinners. Sometimes they could even be fun.
When Zuko went to bed that night, he dreamed of laughter and a night spent sitting on the balcony, watching the moon on the lake, and a promise to see each other soon.
In the morning, his bubble of happiness popped abruptly.
With his breakfast, his assistant had brought the copy of Caldera Daily.
At the bottom of the front page was quite possibly the worst headline Zuko had ever seen them print—which was saying something, as they had once covered a piece on how firebugs were actually fire spirits that the royal palace employed as spies.
But this was truly something else.
Three’s a Crowd, the headline read, The Truth of How Fire Lord Zuko Broke a Heart and Made a Rival.
Zuko’s vision blanched. The paper seemed small. Far away. The words blurred together around the edges.
Readers may remember the supposed rivalry between Fire Lord Zuko and Sokka, the ambassador to the Southern Water Tribe that became apparent at the peace summit last spring. Well now, readers, Caldera Daily offers an exclusive look at the origin of their contempt. An inside source (who wishes to remain anonymous for fear of their safety) has the scoop from the Royal Wedding of Lady Yang.
“[Fire Lord Zuko] was asking around about the ambassador all night on arrival,” the source says. “He looked so nervous, the whole time, as if he was afraid to see him there.”
Later that night, though, the Fire Lord must have forgotten about his nerves, as the young royal was seen dancing with Master Katara (Ambassador Sokka’s younger sister) for several songs. Dances, apparently, that she requested.
“It’s a pretty clear case to me,” the source says. “Master Katara obviously has a thing for the Fire Lord, feelings that the Fire Lord doesn’t return. Any older brother would be cold with the guy who broke his little sister’s heart.”
From there, the article continued.
Zuko couldn’t read it. His hands shook. His tongue felt odd in his mouth—all dry and uncomfortable.
This wasn’t even a narrow view of what had happened. These words were lies and blatant ones, at that.
Zuko tried to breathe deeply as he pulled out a fresh piece of paper and picked up a brush.
Dear Sokka (and Katara), he wrote. Well. We seem to have run into an issue.
A few days later, Zuko gets his reply: I can’t believe we still haven’t made it above the fold.
Minister Hak—a sharp woman with a soft voice—listened to Zuko as he spilled all about Caldera Daily and the predicament he currently found himself in. She nodded along, her hands a neat bundle on her desk.
Finally, Zuko finished his rant, a little out of breath.
“Your Majesty, can I speak honestly?”
“Please.”
“I think the best course of action is to ignore it. Caldera Daily is no more than a gossip rag. The citizens put little stock in it, outside of some idle gossip. Trying to disprove these rumours will only get more people talking about it.”
Zuko crossed his arms. “Maybe.” She was right, he knew, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
“And if I could offer another piece of advice?”
He nodded, signaling to her to go ahead.
“Maybe you should stop reading it yourself.”
By the time Zuko left for the South, he was proud to say he hadn’t opened another issue of Caldera Daily.
Well. He might’ve peaked at some headlines when he’d seen it on newsstands in town.
But he hadn’t gone through and read the thing and, to Minister Hak’s credit, he was feeling better about it all than he had in a long time.
As a person in a public role, there were going to be things said about him that he couldn’t control. Why should he care? There would never be a way to make everyone happy or to shut down all the stupid rumours. The best thing that Zuko could do was to live and let them write what they wanted while he pretended that paper never existed.
Which became more and more difficult to do when the reputable papers started not-so-subtly asking him to comment on his personal friendship with the Avatar and how things were going with the Southern Water Tribe.
One small silver lining, though, was that the ministers agreed with his plan to go to the South without hesitation. Clearly they were as eager to put those rumours to rest as he was.
When the end of the month rolled around and the edge of summer gave way to the slow start of the rainy fall, Zuko once again was on a steamship heading away from the capital. They left at night, mostly for logistics, but the view of the glowing city on the volcano from the ocean was one that would remain in Zuko’s mind for a long while. The dark water caught the smallest streaks of light and reflected it back to the sky, which was full of sun stars and clouds. A warm breeze blew across the water, one that still held more summer than autumn. Zuko closed this eyes and leaned against the rail, the steady and familiar motion of the boat cutting through waves rocking his body.
“This is stupid.”
Zuko opened his eyes again. Below, two crewmen were hauling supplies. They must’ve assumed they alone—or, at the very least, anyone listening in wouldn’t be the Fire Lord. People tended to forget he’d spent three years on a ship, crossing the earth, and assumed he’d shut himself in the grand chamber instead of mingle with the others on deck. Sometimes Zuko felt more at home on the ocean, on a steamship going to a faraway place, than he did in the middle of the grand palace.
“It is stupid,” the second crewman agreed.
“I mean, why are we doing all this? Why can’t we just send an ambassador or something.”
The second man chucked dryly. “And the South can’t even send their ambassador. Whatever happened between him and the Fire Lord, I don’t care. It’s childish. Put it aside and do your job.”
The first offered a grunt of agreement.
Zuko wanted nothing more than to lean over and scream to the deck below. But what would he say: ‘It’s all a big misunderstanding. I didn’t mean to not shake his hand, I just didn’t know how to act professionally around my boyfriend when we’d literally woken up in the same bed?’
Somehow that didn’t have a good ring to it. Zuko huffed. Maybe he could talk to Sokka about going public with their relationship. While their friends and family and, in general, many of the people they worked with knew they were together, they had decided to wait until things were more settled before they announced it to the world. But once they did? Well, that would put an end to any stories of dislike once and for all.
When the ice of the South came into view on the horizon, an assistant came to Zuko with a large bundle in her hands. “Traditional Southern Water Tribe clothing,” she explained. “To show respect.”
Zuko nodded. He wouldn’t need it for the warmth, but he’d do anything to show he cared. When the assistant left, he shrugged on the pants and tunic and parka and wiggled his feet into the soft boots. For as much as he’d worn reds and even Earth Kingdom greens, he couldn’t remember ever having worn the Water Tribe blues. The colour made the contrast between his skin and hair even more apparent—it was a strange sort of thing, the way that the colour seems to change his appearance.
But he didn’t have time to dwell. The boat was docking and, when the plank went down, Sokka would be waiting for him on the other side.
As it turned out, Sokka wasn’t quite waiting for Zuko on the other side of the plank, but he was waiting for Zuko in the hall of the council building, where a feast had been set out to welcome the Fire Nation. In the thick of the crowd, Zuko couldn’t find a chance to greet Sokka alone. This time, he did manage to hold his composure together and offer him both a shake of the hand and a bow.
Sokka, though, seemed strange this time. Almost distracted. “You’re wearing blue,” he said quietly as they went to take their seats at the table.
“Should I not be?” Zuko lifted his eyebrow.
If Sokka gave a response, Zuko didn’t hear it—someone ushered him to a spot next to Hakoda at the high table, which Sokka took his place in the larger crowd.
Hakoda hummed. “Good to have you here,” he said. “Enjoy.”
Zuko did. The Water Tribe cuisine was so unlike anything at home or in the Earth Kingdom.
At one moment, after the stew, Zuko looked for Sokka in the crowd. The people around Sokka were animated: talking away in a lively conversation.
Sokka wasn’t saying anything. He only stared at Zuko. When he raised his spoon to his mouth, he missed entirely and splattered the food across his cheek.
Zuko didn’t even have time for a proper laugh before Bato asked him about how the growing season had been.
That night, Zuko slipped out of the guest chambers they’d set him up on and made his way through the empty hall. Sokka would be just across the street and Zuko wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to relax with his boyfriend in the comfort of his home.
But as he got to the exit, he paused in his tracks. Loud and deep voices echoed through the hall.
“Do you think it’s true? That Sokka doesn’t like him because he broke Katara’s heart?”
“Nah,” replied someone else. “She’s only ever had eyes for Aang.”
“That much is true,” said a third—a woman, this time. “But you can’t deny something is up. Sokka was glaring daggers at him all dinner. Sokka gets along with almost everyone else.”
“I mean, it might still be about Aang. About how the Fire Lord tried to… well, you know… that’s not exactly an easy thing to get past.”
“Aang and Sokka are practically joined at the hip these days. You know, last week I saw them at the bar drinking sake and crying over baby penguins…”
Wherever that story went, Zuko couldn’t hear. The trio had left the building and Zuko’s heart drummed against his ears.
“Sokka,” Zuko whisperer that night when they were both half-asleep.
“Mhmm?” He didn’t open his eyes.
“Why were you glaring at me tonight?” Zuko didn’t mean for it to come out sounding so small.
“Oh, babe, that’s easy.” Sokka shifted closer and grinned through the dark. “First, it was more of a stare than a glare. And, second, you look really hot in blue.”
Six weeks later saw them back in the Fire Nation Palace—Sokka there to stay for a while. At the welcome dinner, he and Zuko found a quiet alcove once the ministers were a few drinks in.
But they couldn’t be gone forever. Not as the Fire Lord and the guest of honour. Hastily, they tried to get themselves back together before they separately returned to the party.
That was when one the servers (a young one, at that) rounded the corner. He stood there for a moment, eyes wide and mouth open. “Fire Lord Zuko?” He sounded unsure, probably since Zuko was currently crownless, hair down, and half in shadow.
His eyes flickered to Sokka. “Ambassador— you two—was there a fight?”
“No,” Zuko jumped in. “Look, it’s fine, really.”
“But you have a bruise on your neck.” The young teen then clamped his mouth shut. “My apologies, Your Majesty. If you say it’s fine, it’s fine. I’m needed in the kitchens, too.” His hands shook around the empty tray.
“Yes, yes. Dismissed.”
The boy raced away.
Sokka groaned. “Now everyone is going to think we hate each other enough to be getting in fist fights. ”
Sokka was incorrect. Not everyone thought they were getting in fist fights. Just the palace staff. And Caldera Daily. And about half the town.
“This is the worst,” Zuko muttered into Sokka’s chest.
“It’s not looking great,” Sokka admitted as he carded his fingers through Zuko’s hair. “But here’s a thought—“
“I shut them down by royal decree?”
Sokka shot him a pointed look. “We tell everyone the truth about our relationship.”
Zuko sat up straight and drummed his fingers on his chin. “Yeah,” he said softly after a moment. “Yeah, that could work.”
In the end, they both agreed on announcing their relationship in a non-announcement. After all, why should they have to get up in front of anyone and explain it all in awkward and stilted terms that would never encompass the way it felt when they were together?
Instead, they went to the festival together in mid-autumn. Zuko’s hand shook as he wrapped it around Sokka’s. Sokka leaned in close and didn’t let go. Overhead, paper lanterns cast shadows over the stone street in streaks of red and blue and orange and green. Kids laughed as they raced through the crowds, chasing after one another and shoving their mouths full of sweets.
When the dance started, Zuko and Sokka stepped into the square together. Around them the other couples looked on—soft murmurs rose up along with the music. Zuko swallows the lump in his throat.
“Hey.” Sokka pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Pretend there’s no one here but me.”
As they danced, the world melted away in pools of warm oranges. Sokka’s eyes held the candle light. Together, they were warm enough to stave away the autumn chill.
After the music faded, the fireworks rose up and whistled across the sky before raining down in spirals of white.
“It’s like snow,” Sokka said in between explosions. “Like spirit lights and snow.”
The bang of the fireworks echoed through Zuko’s core. He leaned his head to Sokka’s shoulder, cupped his hand around his ear and said: “I’ve always thought they were more like stars.”
Sokka raised his hand and caught Zuko’s chin. He tipped it toward his own. When they kissed, Zuko could’ve sworn the fireworks were a million miles away and the whole world, then, consisted of only him and Sokka.
Later that night, they held each other close under the soft sheets. “I love you,” Sokka whispered. He smelled of soap and smoke.
“I love you, too.”
Zuko felt the beat of Sokka’s wild heart against his chest.
“It’s the adrenaline,” Sokka said.
Zuko nodded in agreement. His heart, too, felt as if it might explode. “We really gave them something to talk about.”
Despite the late night, Zuko still rose at first light. He always felt better after training, and as he returned to his chambers, he requested they bring breakfast for two and, against his better judgment, a copy of Caldera Daily.
“Um.” Zuko’s assistant, Haru, twisted his fingers together. “Are you sure?”
“I know I said I’d stop reading it, but I have a good feeling about today.”
Haru gave Zuko a small smile. “Well. If you insist.”
By the time the tray of breakfast arrived, Sokka was awake, even if he wasn’t entirely with it yet. He stretched and yawned as he sat opposite Zuko at the table, before helping himself to a bowlful of soup.
As tempting as the food looked, Zuko grabbed for the paper before anything else. Finally, finally they could but this whole stupid chapter behind them.
But as Zuko stared at the headline—the first story right under the stupid blocked print that read Caldera Daily—and his stomach plummeted. “No.” He unfolded the paper and skimmed the article, hoping it somehow would come to a different conclusion than what the headline suggested. “No, no, no.” He could’ve let his head drop right against the table, food be damned.
“What is it?” Sokka asked, suddenly more awake. Bowl still in hand, he came up behind Zuko and leaned over his shoulder to read the paper. “Oh—oh.” A small laugh escaped.
“It’s not funny!”
“It is. A little.” Sokka cleared his throat. “ ‘Manufactured Love: Fire Lord Makes a Desperate Gamble to Put Rumours to Bed.’
“‘Last night at the mid-autumn festival, Fire Lord Zuko was spotted cuddling up to long-time rival, Ambassador Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe— that’s me!— but as any onlooker would tell you, it was clear as day these two are as different as oil and water. A source close to the palace has intel that this fake relationship was dreamed up by a board of ministers to put to rest the discussions of ill-will after the two allegedly got into a physical altercation only weeks ago. Of course, now the two appear to be engaged in a much different type of physical entanglement—‘ “
“I’m shutting them down. Royal decree.”
Sokka kissed the top of his head. “We both know this is too entertaining for you to actually do that.”
Zuko wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know how you can even read it with a straight face.”
Sokka paused. Slowly, the grin across his face widened. “Well, look at it this way—at least we finally made it above the fold.”