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Chapter Text

It was a feeling she was well familiar with, the simultaneous anticipation and dread of going into battle. It was the feeling she got during the Hundred Years War when she would strap on her armor, the feeling she got when she looked out on her soldiers to see the turmoil of emotions on each of their faces, the feeling she got before she unsheathed her two straight swords.

The only difference was that instead of her swords in hand, she had a bouquet of wilting moon peach blossoms from her hometown. Instead of looking out onto the familiar faces of her soldiers, she was looking out into a small crowd of scrutinizing nobles divided by the colors red and green. Instead of her armor, she was wearing a traditional Earth Kingdom wedding dress, the fabric scratchy and heavy, the mandarin collar stiff and tight around her neck.

Nevertheless, it was the same familiar feeling of going into battle, so Xuan fell into old, comforting habits.

She straightened her posture, set her shoulders, and took a steadying breath to steel herself. 

“The bride, Xuan Le, First Daughter and General of the Restorationist Forces, will now enter.”

It was difficult to see more than a few feet in front of her with the veil over her face, but Xuan found herself glad for it as it meant she wouldn’t have to see the faces of the guests as she walked by them in the aisle. As she entered the room, she felt her mother’s arm guide her gently down the aisle before her mother let go of her at the end of the walkway. And then she was alone.

Taking in another deep breath, Xuan walked the last few steps up to the altar. Through the veil, she could make out the tall figure of a man standing across from her. She stood up straight facing him, waiting for him to lift her veil as she had been instructed to do.

Nothing.

But Xuan was patient. A heavy atmosphere fell across the room, the silence broken by a nervous chuckle from the officiant. She heard a hushed whisper and then from the man in front of her, a sigh. And then she could see again, as the veil lifted from her face.

Strong brows pinched and furrowed in displeasure. A set of full lips scowled in anger. Golden eyes, one marred by a scar, narrowed in suspicion.

So this was the man she was to marry.

Xuan straightened her posture, set her shoulders, and took a steadying breath to steel herself.

— — — — —

Immediately following the ceremony, she was shepherded towards the carriage. It was a blood-red scarlet and adorned with gold flowers—she didn’t know that Fire Nation tastes ran so flashy. She wondered how much one of those gold flowers might sell for at the market. At least a few horses, she thought to herself, And a set of armor. Or half a year’s worth of rice and sugar. It was all she could focus on as her mother pressed her hand against her cheek. 

“My little mountain,” she murmured, eyes sad and proud all at once. It was hard to look at her like this, so Xuan just ducked her head so that her mother could press a kiss against her temple. “You’ll write, of course?”

“Of course, Ma,” she said obediently.

Her sisters couldn’t quite meet her eyes and Xuan thought it was for the better because she wasn’t sure what she would see in them. Guilt, relief, pity? She didn’t want to know. She also didn’t know what they would see in her eyes.

“Take care of the mountains,” she said to them with a short nod as one of the Fire Nation servants opened the door to the carriage. Xuan lifted the heavy skirt of her emerald dress robes and climbed in.

He sat across from her in the carriage, his gaze carefully trained out the window as the carriage took off. He was still scowling, she thought to herself absentmindedly as she followed his gaze to watch the figures of her mother and sisters retreat into the distance. When they disappeared and the silent atmosphere became too stifling, she turned her gaze slowly back to him. His face was turned to the window, his scar carefully angled away from her as she studied his profile rather unabashedly.

She wasn’t sure what to make of him compared to the stories she had heard—the stories of the Avatar and his group of friends saving the world, the stories of the new Fire Lord and his progressive reforms to free the Fire Nation colonies, the stories of the horrific acts committed by his sister and father. Everything she had heard seemed to conflict. For one, he seemed younger than she had expected, likely only a year or two older than her, but Xuan had never equated age to capabilities.

And secondly, he was rather handsome, even more so than the papers had suggested. He had a noble nose that sloped to an unexpectedly soft point and heart-shaped face, but otherwise the planes of his face were sharp and angular—beautiful in a ruthless and cold way. His cheekbones were high and cutting, giving him a rather haughty and striking appearance, one fit for an aristocrat. Where she couldn’t see the angry pink of the scar tissue, his skin was startlingly pale against the ink of his hair, a gleaming black that was half held back in a topknot secured with the gold crown. He reminded her of the statues that the artisan earth benders shaped out of marble. He was all sullen good looks, though it was slightly marred by the displeased scowl that twisted at his face as though he had smelled a skunk fish.

Xuan thought he was the prettiest boy she had ever seen.

She must have stared too long because his gaze snapped to hers. For a moment, she admired the brooding ambers of his eyes—framed by dark lashes, his eyes were deep pools of gold, an unusual shade that seemed to glint in the sunlight filtering through the carriage window. They reminded her of a warm hearth at home, she thought before realizing that his scowl had grown even more pronounced than before.

Now that he turned, she could see the scar—angry scarlet and pink tissue shaped like a comet around his left eye, ridged like a mountain range. His black hair was strategically placed, but she could see the scar extend to his left ear. Though Xuan was no stranger to the injuries of war, she paused for a moment, her gaze darting to the scar before back to his eyes as she took in the full sight of his face. Her husband was a handsome man, she thought—

“What?” He asked shortly, somehow making the singular word cutting and sharp against the previous silence.

Xuan was a bit at a loss for words—what was she supposed to say to her new husband, a stranger? “Hi,” she tried, straightening a little. “I’m Xuan. It’s an honor to finally meet you.”

He stared at her in disbelief for a moment before scoffing under his breath. “I know who you are,” he huffed. He gave her a sidelong glance, the same look of displeasure still clear on his face. “You… shouldn’t expect too much from this.” It sounded like he was going to say more, but instead, he turned his face back to the window.

Xuan, proud as ever, kept her expression perfectly neutral as she followed his gaze back out the window. She watched the last remnants of the Earth Kingdom’s beautiful forests pass by as they crossed the border. She tried to commit the trees to memory. “I won’t.”

— — — — —

It had been seven years since the Avatar and his friends saved the world. Though a greater peace had fallen across the four nations, a current of unease still thrummed in the council meetings of each nation, each leader waiting for the peace to be broken. Though there was peace, there were doubts—how could the son of the previous tyrant be trusted to lead the nation most riddled with war crimes?

Though Zuko was officially crowned Fire Lord following the defeat of his father, it had been decided that he was still too young and it was still too early to instill confidence in the people. Lord Iroh was appointed the regent to Fire Lord Zuko, and his rule remained this way for the next six years until Lord Iroh stepped down last spring.

Following the war, the Fire Nation colonies in the Earth Kingdom became a contested area. The Harmony Restoration Movement was created to transfer Fire Nation colonials back to the Fire Nation, dissolving the colonies. But what was left after the Hundred Year War were homes and buildings, once made out of earth, reconstructed with metal. The surrounding mountain’s forests and farmlands, once bountiful and green, had been burned to fuel the Fire Nation’s airships or repurposed to supply the Fire Nation. Families that had mixed between the two nations were left split in the middle. The colonies bled and didn’t stop bleeding, even when peace and independence was restored. With the growing disputes over the colonies on Earth Kingdom territory, tensions only grew between the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom.

Their marriage was a straightforward arrangement at first glance—the Old Colonies would continue to get the resources and money they desperately needed to repair their lands and the Fire Nation would get a tangible alliance with the Earth Kingdom and the Old Colonies. And peace would continue.

It was supposed to be her second sister. Or even her third sister. But the Fire Nation delegate had declined the agreement after just a cup of tea. The decision that the Fire Nation wouldn’t accept either sisters had come so swiftly that Xuan barely had any time to think about what the colonies would have to do instead to make ends meet for the people—the farmlands they had restored would be useless when the winter came and their location deep in the mountains made it unlikely that they would ever be able to become a center for economic trade. They had only just started up their army and it was growing difficult to defend any profits or harvests from Fire Nation loyalists or bandits. It was the same issue that they had been circling around for a year now, and it was only growing worse.

She had been training the new recruits when she was summoned to the tea house. Xuan went warily, the topic of how to salvage the arrangement still on her mind. If her two sisters, Dao, known for her soft beauty and kind nature, and Lien, known for her sharp mind and even sharper tongue, had been so quickly rejected by the Fire Nation, it was likely that the Fire Nation would seek a prospective bride in Omashu, to build a stronger relation. After all, the Old Colonies had been distant for so long from the Earth Kingdom that there was more to gain with a marriage from someone actually from the Earth Kingdom. She was mulling this over as she waited outside the tea room.

When the doors opened, she was surprised to see an old man with kind eyes sitting on a floor cushion. She had expected... Well, a typical Fire Nation diplomat, stuffy and a little arrogant and dressed in robes the color of blood. Nevertheless, Xuan inclined her head respectfully as she entered the room, taking a moment to pull off her mud-stained boots. 

“Hello,” the old man said.

“Hello,” Xuan said politely, “I’m Xuan.” She bowed at her waist. “First daughter and General of the Restorationists Forces.”

The old man smiled at her, gesturing for her to sit. She obliged, sitting on the floor cushion across from him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Tea?” He nodded down at the teapot between them. She nodded, reaching out to pour it for the both of them. Aromatic steam swirled from the cup as she placed the teacup carefully in front of him.

“Thank you,” he said, still smiling. Xuan nodded, waiting for him to drink before she took a sip. It was good tea, she thought in surprise, pleased. It had been a long time since she had tea as fragrant and sweet as it. She could remember the last time she had sugar, before the air ships stopped coming. “You drink your tea well,” he said appreciatively, snapping Xuan’s attention from the tea back to him. 

“It’s well made,” she responded, equally appreciatively. 

He hummed, looking pleased as he poured her more. “I’ve met your sisters,” the old man commented.

“Yes,” Xuan nodded before continuing bluntly, putting her cup down, “Is it true that the Fire Nation will not continue with our arrangement? Will the Fire Nation turn to Omashu? Or Ba Sing Se?” It would be best to confirm this now so that they could figure out how to continue without the promised resources of the arrangement. Perhaps they could still form a trade deal.

“We have not yet made a decision yet.”

“I see,” she said, frowning. “Will a decision be reached soon?”

“Why so rushed? These decisions should not be made with haste,” he chided her gently. He reminded her of a grandpa, sagely and kind, and for a moment, she was a child again, running barefoot down the grass path, throwing herself against the legs of her grandfather. Xuan took a large gulp of the tea, immediately regretting it because she drank it down too fast to properly savor it.

“The decision to reject my sisters was made quickly, it seemed,” she pointed out.

The old man barked out a startled laugh. “That is true,” he said, a twinkle in his eye.

When he offered no explanation, Xuan barreled forward, spurred by the realization that this may be her only chance to salvage their agreement. “My sisters are both very capable and accomplished,” she promised earnestly. “Dao will make a kind ruler, but if kindness is not what the Fire Nation needs, Lien will make a clever ruler.”

“And what about you?”

Xuan’s words stopped in her throat. She blinked at him. “Me?” She echoed disbelievingly.

“Are you interested in marriage?”

Xuan stared at him, before blurting artlessly, “What would I do with a husband?” 

The old man laughed heartily, a flash of recognition that she didn’t understand flickering across his face. “That’s exactly the question—what would you do with your husband.” She furrowed her brows, taking in his words. She felt at a loss. “Why were you not brought to the meetings previously?” 

“I am not a bender,” she spoke plainly, despite the twinge of discomfort churning in her stomach.

“Perhaps a hundred years ago that would have been a consideration, but recent studies have shown bending to be trivial in the matters of lineage,” he said, not unkindly as he watched her carefully over the rim of his teacup.

Xuan held back a snort at this—perhaps on paper, but she knew firsthand the preference for benders and the importance of bloodline. Ozai had been married to the previous Fire Lady because she had been the granddaughter of Avatar Roku. 

Clearing sensing her disbelief, the old man continued, “The new Fire Lord is careful not to blindly follow tradition. He’s interested in paving a new path.”

Paving a new path, the words echoed like honey in her mind. Was it possible? 

“My strength is on the battlefield,” she said finally. “Not as a ruler or as a wife.”

“Hmm,” the old man hummed thoughtfully. “What battlefields will exist in a time of peace?”

“That is to assume that peace will continue,” she said evenly. “We must prepare for the worse.”

“But what if we can continue the peace?” The old man pressed. “Is that not why this arrangement was proposed in the first place? Have our lands not seen enough war and devastation?” Xuan fell silent, her gaze settling on her cup of tea. It had grown cold in her hands—she wished she had drunk it while it was still warm to truly enjoy it. As if sensing her hesitations, the old man continued, his voice certain. “I believe that the world can exist in peace and I believe Fire Lord Zuko will be the one to lead us there.”

“I am old enough to remember these mountains full of trees,” Xuan said steadily, matching the old man’s amber gaze evenly. “And I am old enough to know not to put all my faith in one man.”

The old man chuckled, nodding. “And you should not,” he agreed. “Tell me, General Xuan, what do you consider your greatest shortcomings?”

“I am too proud,” she said easily, thinking back to Dao’s admirable humility and good nature. “I am not well-versed in conversation or the matters of the world,” she continued, thinking about Lien’s sharp wit compared to her blunt tongue. “And my mother often tells me I’m as stubborn as a dragon moose. Though…”

“Though?” He pressed, arching a brow. Something about his gentle demeanor made Xuan relax.

“Though I’d consider it more patience than stubbornness.”

He barked out another laugh at this. “And your strengths?”

“I am no stranger to either end of a blade,” she said evenly. “And I am quick to decide.”

“And are you quick to anger?”

“If I was, I’d likely have already left as my third sister had.” As she said it, she made the connection that it was likely Lien that had walked out of the tea house first. Lien had never had the patience for sitting and she likely thought the old man was playing word games with her and had lost her temper trying to decipher his words. Only Xuan understood that the old man was not playing word games at all—he was just having a conversation over a cup of tea. And Xuan would never reject a well-brewed cup of tea.

“More tea?” He asked, as if reading her mind.

She nodded, watching as he heated the pot again. A small flame erupted from the tip of his finger, and Xuan watched, transfixed and unable to push away the feeling she always got when she watched benders. The pot soon steamed, and she poured the both of them another cup.

“Fire Lord Zuko is a good man,” he continued, cupping his tea and sighing appreciatively as if it were his first cup. “Did you know it was actually Zuko who drafted and proposed the Harmony Restoration Movement?”

Xuan shook her head quietly, taking in this information. She was mildly impressed. The decision to free the Old Colonies was a welcome one with her people, but she knew there was no way it would have been popular in the Fire Nation.

“His heart is in a good place,” the old man sighed. “Zuko is a good man. But being a good man is not always enough to be a good ruler.”

Xuan watched the old man carefully, surprised he was even disclosing this to her. Though perhaps it wasn’t a secret, she thought, thinking back to the rumors of unease around the new Fire Lord’s new decrees and policy implementations. The Old Colonies were an example of it—independence was wonderful at first glance, but at second glance, her people were now starving and the mountains were still healing. 

“What does he need to be a good ruler?” She asked finally.

“Support,” the old man said. “There is only so much Fire Lord Zuko can do by himself alone in that dreary palace.” He shuddered and for a moment, Xuan felt a pang of sympathy for this man she had never met. “There is a space right now—a need—for someone to help guide the world into peace with him.”

Xuan fell silent, his words thrumming in her ears. She tried to imagine Dao in that space, but she could only imagine her second sister’s deferential demeanor being taken advantage of. She tried to imagine Lien, but she could only imagine her third sister strategizing their nations into a labyrinth of politics waiting to blow. “Why not turn to the Fire Nation nobility? Or the other nations?” She knew she was walking a dangerous line suggesting he look elsewhere when her people needed the resources so badly. But she was curious. 

“Because their support would not be willing.” She didn’t understand, but before she could ask, the old man continued. Their teacups sat on the table, forgotten. “If we offered you the resources without any expectation of repayment, would you accept it?”

“For my people, yes. For myself, no,” she said without hesitation.

“And why not?”

“I am not one to live comfortably with the knowledge that I am in debt,” she said. “But my people are hungry and it is my duty to them to provide.”

The old man nodded thoughtfully, his expression surprisingly unreadable. They sat in silence, with Xuan turning over this information about the Fire Lord in her mind before he spoke up again. “Do you play Pai Sho, General?”

She shook her head. By the time she had enough time to play, Dao had already found a challenger in Lien, who learned the ins and outs of the game just by simply watching. No matter how much she watched them play, Xuan could never learn the mechanics, and her sisters had been too impatient to teach her.

“No,” Xuan said, pouring the both of them another cup of tea. “But I would love to learn.”

— — — — —

Now, sitting in the stifling carriage, she wondered belatedly if the old man had put something in the tea for her to have believed him, for the honey in his words now seemed too good to be true. Xuan stared at the scowling Fire Lord in front of her and bit back a sigh.

— — — — —

A day earlier—

“How are you feeling, Zuko?” His uncle had asked him from where he sat comfortably in the carriage. “You’ll soon have a wife,” Uncle Iroh said, as if that hadn’t been at the forefront of Zuko’s mind for weeks now.

“And what will I do with a wife?” Zuko asked for the nth time.

“Exactly,” his uncle hummed, as if reading from a script now. “What will you do with your wife? Support each other, trust each other, share ideas together…” When he sensed that Zuko had stopped listening again, he paused, his gaze sympathetic. “You’ll like her,” his uncle said promisingly.

Zuko could feel a headache come on, accompanied by the wave of regret he had been feeling for the past several weeks now. He was torn between wondering why he would entrust such a task to his uncle and anger for having to do so in the first place.

The Fire Sages had effectively backed him into a corner after years of hinting at the need for a Fire Lady. It was only this past year when Zuko officially assumed the throne that their hints turned into demands. Zuko snorted to himself—they didn’t need a Fire Lady, they needed another way into the throne. It was starting to become unsustainable, he realized, after pushing the issue to the side for so long, when even his uncle had brought up the prospects of marriage as well.

“It’ll be better for you to decide on this sooner so you still have some say,” his uncle had said. “And perhaps you’ll find yourself an ally. Or you’ll be able to keep your enemies closer.” The thought of keeping his enemies closer had made him shudder. 

“It doesn’t matter if I like her or if I don’t,” Zuko sighed stubbornly, staring out the window. He tried not to glare. Being around his uncle was both comforting and irritating in that he felt like he was a sixteen year old boy again again, and not a twenty-four year old man. “We’ll be sending her off to Ember Island or wherever she wants to go anyways.” 

“If that were the case, we could have just chosen the closest, unmarried woman and had the wedding on the same day instead of you sending me on this hunt,” his uncle said. “You could have saved me from traveling to the Earth Kingdom—my bones are getting soft.”

This was true, and Zuko knew it, but he could feel the flare of nerves grow his irritation though he knew it was misdirected. “There had to be some standards,” he muttered.

That was a lie—Zuko had only had one requirement. It had to be a voluntary decision, even if it was an arranged marriage. He wouldn’t be like his father and force someone into a marriage with him. Whoever it ended up being had to have wanted too, whether it was because she would get something from the deal or for whatever reason, Zuko didn’t care. She just had to agree.

His uncle hummed, unperturbed his mood. “Yes, and I believe you’ll find that she surpasses them. She’s charming and straightforward. And her reputation with her sword is widely known—another layer of protection—”

“I don’t need protecting ,” Zuko spat, his irritation flaring hot as if someone had tossed fresh wood into a dying fire. “Especially not by some stranger who’s supposed to be my wife!”

“You’ve had two assassination attempts in the past year,” Iroh said grimly.

Zuko’s gut lurched—he didn’t need this reminder. He thought about it nightly when he tried to sleep, lying awake waiting for that sound of an intruder’s shoes in the Palace halls, that sound of the door sliding open, that sound of a blade sliding from its sheath… Most nights, Zuko laid in bed with his eyes wide open, the image of his throat gutted out too clear in his mind. Zuko closed his eyes, feeling his headache worsen. 

“The Kyoshi Warriors—”

“The Kyoshi Warriors cannot be with you everywhere.”

“And neither will she. We’re sending her to Ember Island when this all settles,” Zuko said definitively. “That was our agreement.”

“She’s pretty, too,” his uncle chirped brightly as if Zuko hadn’t said anything at all. Zuko bit back an annoyed sigh. “Have you seen the portrait I sent back to you? It took me a long time to convince her to sit for it.”

“So she’s stubborn,” Zuko grumbled in displeasure.

“Not very different from someone I know,” his uncle pointed out, that blasted twinkle in his eye. “Look at the portrait when you have a chance. It’s auspicious to see who you’re marrying at least once before the wedding.”

Zuko grunted noncommittally. He could almost feel the scroll weighing heavily in the pocket of his robes, unopened. Why’d he bring it anyways? He couldn’t bring himself to open it. What did it matter if he liked her or not? She would never come to like him—not with his scar marring his face, not with his short temper, and especially not when he was his father’s son. He wondered if his wife would be able to look him in the face. The thought made him sick.

It doesn’t matter anyways, Zuko thought to himself again. We’ll send her off when everything settles down.

“I just ask you to keep an open mind, Zuko,” Iroh sighed, running a hand over his face. Zuko felt a pang as he took in his uncle’s wrinkles and graying face—time was passing too quickly, and yet, he found himself arguing still like they had seven years ago. I’ve grown , he assured himself, though it sounded more like a wish than a promise, even to him.

“Yes, Uncle,” he softened, before closing his eyes and willing his headache away.

— — — — —

They had arrived at the small village a day earlier than expected, given the good weather. It was agreed that the wedding would take place in one of the territories that sat on the edge of the Fire Nation, reachable to the guests from the colonies by boat and a day's travel. More importantly, it was agreed that the wedding would be a quick and quiet ordeal, rushed to avoid any attempts to derail the union—by Fire Nation loyalists or Earth Kingdom nationalists. There were only a handful of guests—namely, her family, the Kyoshi Warriors for protection, and Iroh and his trusted advisors.

In fact, he hadn’t bothered sending news to the Avatar or any of his friends—Aang and Katara were busy with just about everything, Toph had just opened the Earth Kingdom’s first metal-bending academy, and Sokka had his hands full with his own politics. At least, that was the reason he had told Uncle Iroh. The reality was that he didn’t want to send any word of his marriage to his friends—what was the point when it was a paper marriage anyways? Aang and Katara were happily married—he could imagine the look of disapproval and pity on their faces and it brought a bitter taste to his mouth. He didn’t have the luxury to marry for love, he didn’t even have the luxury to want it or even consider it.

Zuko sighed, settling back on the edge of his bed as he began to untie the clasps of his traveling robes. He’d wash up, attempt to sleep—though he knew none would come to him that night—and then the next day, he’d be a married man. 

What was he to do with a wife? He had known that marriage would be inevitable, but he had shoved the idea as far away as possible for as long as possible. His relationship with Mai had been nice and familiar enough—in a distant sort of way where he could float along with it—until it wasn’t. With Mai, they had fought and made up and fought and made up all over again. It had been tiring, always trying to guess what was wrong and always wondering if he liked her more than she liked him. His short temper and immaturity coupled with Mai’s stoic aloofness and apathy brought out the worst in the two. Save for a few moments of begrudging peace, they had either always been fighting or brooding together. Though it had been a mess at the time with her father and his father, Zuko had known that it was for the better when they broke it off.

And Katara... He had made his decision with Katara in the cave. He knew he couldn’t give her what she deserved—a life with him would be a sentence to the Fire Palace and a daily reminder of the worst days of her life. Perhaps in another life things could have been different, but Zuko didn’t like to entertain the idea too much and eventually, seeing Katara and Aang together stopped stinging. Time and distance healed all, it seemed, though it also seemed to make other things worse.

His friends had all moved on and away, and more often than not, it felt like he was watching them all live on as he stayed back alone in the cursed palace, scrambling to put out the constant fire that was the Fire Nation. 

He sighed again, slipping his robe off from his shoulders. Paper crinkled underneath the silk fabric and he froze before reaching into the pocket and pulling out the scroll that had been weighing on him all day.

I just ask you to keep an open mind. His uncle’s words rang in his ears as he stared down at the familiar scroll. A month ago, his uncle had sent word back that he had found the right bride. His note had been short and excited.

Nephew—

I’ve found a match as we agreed. Her charm lies in her straightforward conversation and her appreciation for good tea (Zuko had snorted at this part) . The lady is mindful of duty and has a strong character— above all I believe she has a good heart. And she’s already agreed to the marriage proposal. I’ll soon send a portrait.

And when the portrait inevitably came a week later by messenger hawk, wrapped carefully within the scroll bindings, Zuko had shoved it into the dark recesses of his drawer and his mind. And yet, in a moment of insanity, he had brought it along. 

Zuko stared at the unopened scroll for a moment longer before he shoved it back into his pocket stubbornly. He re-clasped the frog buttons on his robe and rummaged through his trunk for a sheet of fabric. When he opened the door to his room, Suki stood outside, her keen eyes tracking over his new attire. 

“I’ll be out only briefly,” he said, half-embarrassed to have been caught by his own guard.

The Kyoshi Warrior frowned, shifting from foot to foot. “Perhaps that’s not a good idea.”

Already embarrassed, Zuko grimaced under the fabric covering his face before pushing forward awkwardly. “Iroh said it was… auspicious… to see her at least once before the wedding.”

It would be good to let at least one person know where he was going in case there was an assassination attempt. And Suki was dependable, that much he knew. He had made Suki swear to keep the wedding a secret from Sokka and the others, and so far, none of them had arrived yet, which was a good sign. Even so, he couldn’t swallow down his embarrassment as he trained his gaze past her carefully.

Suki’s red painted lips curved into a knowing smile. He forced himself to keep a straight face. “Of course,” the Kyoshi Warrior said discreetly. “Though I think you’ll have a more successful time on the roof across the teahouse by the water. Ty Lee mentioned she and a few other warriors were assigned there.”

Zuko cleared his throat. “Is that so?”

With a curt nod, Zuko closed his door again before heading to his balcony and sidling up the rail to the roof. He had to admit that it was refreshing. How long has it been since I left the Fire Palace? He wondered as he stepped carefully across the tiles on the sloping roof, the air cool against his skin. It wasn’t hard to find the teahouse—it was lit with scarlet and gold lanterns, the reflection of the light mirrored on the river. 

Zuko glanced at the balconies. It seemed that the Kyoshi Warriors had cleared most of them out for safety because only one was lit and he could see three figures settled on the floor cushions. He squatted on a low roof carefully, angled just above the balcony. I’ll just take a glance and go , he thought as he peered into the balcony. It’s auspicious. He could hear a peal of laughter echo out.

“The food here is sweet,” a voice observed. 

“You’ve said that after each bite now,” the woman in his sight laughed. It occurred to him then that he didn’t know the name of the woman he was to marry. That felt pretty inauspicious.

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose, assessing the three women.The one who had just spoken was slim, her features soft and pretty and her skin luminescent. She reminded Zuko of the paintings of ancient princesses.

“Have to enjoy it while we have it,” another voice agreed. This woman was taller than the first, her features sharper and her hair to her waist. It was difficult to make out her face underneath the heavyset glasses she wore. Zuko wondered if it was her. He racked his brain, trying to remember what his uncle had told him. 

“Everyone will be able to have this from now on,” the first voice said with a pleased sort of sigh. Zuko couldn’t see her from this angle.

“At what cost, though?” The woman with the glasses asked with an arched brow. Zuko hoped it wasn’t her—he had enough conversations about weighing costs in his war council meetings. He shook the thought of his mind—he was sending her to Ember Island anyways, so what did it matter? “You’re practically selling your body.”

“ Lien !” The one with soft features gasped, mortified. Zuko felt a little ill.

Lien gave her an unimpressed look. “Am I wrong, Dao? I still can’t believe Mother would approve of this—”

“I don’t see how it’s any different from serving in the war,” the first voice spoke up again, her voice a matter-of-fact. “Wasn’t I giving my body then?”

Lien fell silent. Zuko could see the flash of discomfort on her face as she hesitated. “It’s different,” she said weakly before she leaned over the table, her expression urgent. “You know, I’ve read that there are movements growing in the Northern Water Tribes—women don’t always want to marry now. It’s not too late, Xuan, we—”

So it was the third woman. Xuan . He mouthed her name, testing its weight in his mouth. Zuko couldn’t see her from this angle, so he slipped down a few feet, crouching carefully. Ridiculously, he could feel a thrill of anticipation thrum through him as he tried to find a better angle.

“It’s not that I want or don’t want to marry,” Xuan said, her voice even. “It’s that I must marry. You both know that. It’s the most straightforward path. I’ve given my body to our people—what more is it to give my hand in exchange for promised prosperity?”

Zuko’s breath hitched in his throat, though he didn’t know if it was because of her words or because he could see her now. 

Compared to her sister’s paler skins, she was sun-kissed, her skin noticeably golden-tan even against the browns of her travel robes. Her eyes were sharp and angled, the same deep brown as her robes, and they sat under a pair of strong furrowed brows. Her mouth was set in a firm line, her bottom lip full and pronounced despite the severity of her even expression. She sat with her back straight, her hands folded over her lap as she studied her sisters carefully. Compared to her sisters, she looked neither too soft nor too sharp, but instead, strong and firm. Zuko took in her appearance blankly for a moment, before her words rang in his mind.

Promised prosperity. Selling herself. Zuko felt a sharp twist in his gut. Of course he knew that he was promised prosperity, that this was an exchange that would benefit both parties, but even so, hearing it aloud made him feel a little sick.

“It’s not just your hand,” Lien insisted. “With this, you’re committing your mind and body to a… to a man!” She blurted, her cheeks flushed pink.

“A handsome man,” Dao added with a sly smile. “According to the papers.”

Zuko felt a flush creep up his neck, though it faded immediately with Lien’s words. “If you can look past his scar. I read that it happened before his exile. But that’s besides the point—Xuan, what do you even know about him?”

Zuko swallowed thickly, a rise of frustration and shame roiling in his gut. Instinctively, his fingers rose to brush the rough scar tissue of his upper face. And who could look past this? A visible scar on top of all of his invisible scars, all scars that never healed. He was so transfixed on these thoughts that he missed her next words.

“...with scars,” she was saying when he snapped back to the conversation. “The Fire Nation delegate said he was skilled with swords. Dual broadswords, in fact.” A pause. “I wonder if he’s any good with straight swords?”

“Of course, that’s what that old man got you with,” Lien huffed, sounding unimpressed. “And?”

“He also said he’s not skilled at making tea.”

Zuko stifled a groan. Why would his uncle tell her that?

“You’ll have enough kitchen staff to do that for you,” Dao reminded her. “What else have you heard?”

Xuan hesitated, her gaze flitting out into the darkness towards the river. Zuko sat very still, though he knew she couldn’t see him. He was struck by the clarity in her eyes. “They said he was a good man,” she said finally. 

“You trust too easily, sister,” Lien said finally, though she sounded resigned. 

Xuan shrugged, taking a bite of a fruit tart. “So sweet,” she hummed, looking pleased. Zuko watched the corners of her lips curve upwards in delight.

Lien sighed again, exchanging a look with Dao. “You’ll have to be on your toes in the Palace or the court ladies will eat you alive.”

“Don’t trust anyone, even if they have sweets,” Dao said solemnly. 

“In fact, don’t even let anyone know you enjoy sweets,” Lien added, looking worried. She reached out to clasp her sister’s hand urgently. “They’ll use it against you somehow.”

Xuan made a face, her nose scrunched up. “Stop worrying, you’re starting to sound like Ma.”

Lien’s concerned expression turned to a glare. Before Lien could say anything though, Dao stepped in smoothly, with the practice of a middle sister used to diffusing arguments, “You’ll write weekly? I can send advice—”

“Ah, advice,” Xuan said, as if remembering something. “Actually, there was one thing I wanted to ask you both before the wedding.” She set down the fruit tart carefully as the two sisters leaned in. Despite himself, Zuko leaned forward as well, craning his neck to hear. “What does the first night of marriage entail? I heard some of the soldiers talking about it, but Jinzu refused to tell me more when I asked. He said to stop asking him—”

Zuko nearly slipped off the roof. A wave of embarrassment and mortification and shame rushed through him in one hot, delightful swoop. 

Dao’s face turned bright red, her lips widening in both an embarrassed and delighted grin. Lien sighed again, her cheeks flushed but her expression solemn. “I’ll… explain it to her,” she grumbled to her older sister, but Zuko didn’t wait to hear her next words.

Instead, he scrambled to his feet and fled back to the inn.

When he finally made it back to his room, he sat down on the edge of his bed again, red-faced from the sprinting and what he had heard. “Spirits,” he muttered to himself, swallowing thickly—he didn’t even want to think about his marriage, let alone… that. Shaking the thought from his mind, he hesitated for a moment before digging out the scroll from his pocket and carefully unraveling it.

He sighed, studying the ink strokes of the portrait. They didn’t even get her eyes right, he thought, frowning down at the portrait of his wife-to-be for another moment before carefully rolling it up and slipping it back into his pocket.

Chapter Text

Xuan opened her eyes blearily as the carriage slowed to a stop. As she woke up, the events of the past day rolled through her mind sluggishly like distant memories from a past life. The Fire Nation servants had fussed over her first thing in the morning, unsure what to do about the less tamed nature of her hair. There was the ceremony and she had said goodbye to her family and she had gotten into the carriage with her husband—

Xuan’s eyes flew open to see said husband watching her, the same stoic expression on his face. Well, she thought dimly to herself as she straightened, At least he stopped scowling.

“How long was I asleep for?” She asked, her voice hoarse from disuse. She rolled her shoulder uncomfortably, shifting on the thin cushion of the carriage seat. After her disastrous attempt at introducing herself, the two of them had fallen into a standstill silence, with him staring out the window. She must have fallen asleep waiting for him to say something.

“A few hours,” he said shortly, turning his gaze back to the window as she expected. It seemed like he didn’t like looking at her. He’ll just have to get used to it, Xuan thought to herself wryly. “We’ve just arrived.”

Xuan turned to look outside eagerly. It was later than she expected—the sun had begun to dip below a large hill in the distance. On second glance though, she realized that they were surrounded on all sides by a hill—they were in the center of a crater. Hari Bulkan, the dormant crater that housed Caldera City. More importantly, at the center of Hari Bulkan was the Fire Palace.

“Oh,” she murmured as she looked at her new home for the first time. It was startling to see something she had only ever read or heard about.

The Fire Palace was grand, to say the least, the architecture imposing and adorned with intricately crafted gold and crimson tiles. The walls were constructed from dark, polished stone, reminiscent of molten lava, that seemed to gleam against the dozens of lanterns and fire pits. Opulent, ornate spires and sweeping curves rose from the tiered rooftops, detailed with golden designs of dragons and phoenixes that curved upwards like flames.

He was watching her again, she could feel it this time, his expression still stoically unimpressed. Had she said something wrong? “It’s impressive,” she tried again.

He gave a short nod in response as the carriage door opened. Without another word to her, he stepped out. Xuan followed, trying not to stare at the palace around her. She didn’t have much of a chance to admire anything because Zuko cleared his throat meaningfully. “The servants have already carried your belongings to your room. I’ll take you there now,” he said gruffly, already walking.

Xuan nodded, following after him and trying to match his stride with some difficulty. Now that they were out of the carriage, she could see that his frame was lithe and lean underneath his gold and crimson ceremonial robes, his shoulders broad and finely-built and his waist trim. More pressingly, his legs were longer than hers, each of his strides putting more and more distance between them as Xuan tried to clamber after him gracefully. The Fire Nation was remarkably warm, the air a bit humid and oppressive despite the open layout, and it didn’t help that her wedding dress was three layers of heavyset fabric. She gathered the fabric into her arms, speeding after him, sweat already dribbling down her temple as she tried to take in their surroundings while staying in pace with him.

The interior of the Fire Palace was equally as vast and richly decorated as it appeared from the outside, with high ceilings supported by massive columns. The walls were adorned with gleaming silk tapestries and murals of what looked to be the Fire Nation’s history and legends. Intricate lanterns made of gold hung from the ceilings, casting a warm, golden glow throughout the grand halls they strolled through. It was... strikingly empty, she thought.

“This is one of the training grounds,” he said from in front of her, nodding to the courtyard to their left. Racks of wooden swords and weapons were lined neatly. “Oh, wow,” Xuan started, excitement shooting through her as she surveyed the wooden dummies and targets. She couldn’t wait to send word back home to tell the others about the training ground. Well, they’ll be able to have their own now, she realized with a pang as she tore her gaze away to hurry after him.

To her surprise though, he was still standing next to her, his stride slower now. “Can anyone use the training grounds?” She asked carefully.

Zuko gave her a sidelong glance, hesitating. “Yes, but…” he trailed off, but Xuan understood. She was now the Fire Lady and what kind of Fire Lady would be training on the grounds? Despite herself, she was still crestfallen. Having the training grounds in such close proximity without access had to be some kind of punishment. Next to her, Zuko cleared his throat as they rounded the corner. “Although as you can see, the soldiers finish training before dinner.”

Xuan blinked as she watched him hurry forward in front of her again. She bit back a pleased smile as they continued forward in silence. The palace somehow was even larger inside than it had looked outside and by the time they stopped in front of a guarded hall, Xuan’s arms were aching from lifting her dress.

“Fire Lord Zuko,” the warrior at the front of the hall said with a low bow. When she straightened, Xuan took in her white-painted face with delight. A Kyoshi Warrior, she realized, giddy. Taking in the warrior’s green robes and armor, Xuan had a sudden flash of self consciousness as she dropped the layers of her heavy dress. She wondered how lightweight their armor was. The warrior turned to her and bowed. “Fire Lady Xuan.”

Fire Lady . The title rang in her mind uncomfortably and she wasn’t sure what to do—bow back? She darted a glance at Zuko, but he was staring ahead fixedly. As if sensing her discomfort, the Kyoshi Warrior continued after a beat. “My name is Suki. I lead the Kyoshi Warriors to ensure yours and Fire Lord Zuko’s safety.”

“It’s an honor to meet you,” Xuan said, breaking into a smile. “I’ve always admired the Kyoshi Warriors,” she added earnestly. Suki’s painted lips curved into a pleased smile as she bowed again and moved back to her post.

“You’ll need etiquette classes,” Zuko murmured, seemingly more to himself than her. Xuan wrinkled her nose in dismay—she had never done well in class—but she couldn’t argue with that.

They stopped in front of two intricately adorned doors, the arch of the first one resembling the body of a phoenix, the wings spanning across the arch, the second a dragon coiled around the frame of the door. “This is your room,” Zuko said as he opened the first door, stepping in after her. 

It was a generously sized room, lavishly furnished. In the center was the largest bed she had ever seen, adorned with what she thought was an egregious amount of pillows, finished off with a silk canopy tied back to the dark wooden posts. Almost everything was in some shade of burgundy or scarlet, save for the ceiling. The ceiling was stunning, delicate models of dragons and phoenixes carved into the gold. Her trunk of belongings sat at the base of a velvet chaise. Outside of the lavish furniture and decorations though, it looked sparse and barely lived in. “It’s nice,” she managed, turning to look at him.

He was squinting around the room assessingly, pausing at her words with a nod. “Good,” he said quietly, straightening. Another pause. “If you’re hungry, you can ring for the servants to bring you dinner,” he said, paused, eyes darting over to her. “They have a variety of desserts, specialties from the Fire Nation. The mangos are in season now.”

She was a bit baffled as to why he was telling her this, but she nodded. “I see.”

He hovered at the door for a moment longer. “Well. Good night.”

She nodded again automatically before registering his words. Xuan jolted, following him doggedly. “Where are you going?”

He paused at the door. “My room.”

“We’re not in the same room?” She asked, surprised. Lien had painstakingly explained what to expect and Xuan didn’t understand how it was to happen if they weren’t in the same room.

Zuko’s face went pale and then painfully pink as he jerked his head towards a connecting door in the room. “No, my chambers are over there,” he said gruffly, still not quite looking at her. She stared at him blankly, trying to make sense of their situation. He must have taken her bewildered silence as an approval because he swiftly moved back towards the door in one jerky motion.

“Wait,” she blurted, lurching forward to grasp at his hand, her fingers closing around his. His skin was hot to the touch, feverish even. “What about the consummation?” She didn’t even have a chance to wince at the tact of her words because Zuko recoiled from her hand, shaking her off sharply.

For a moment, he looked ill, and then furious. “Don’t,” he hissed, sharp vitriol dripping from the one word.

Xuan pulled back her hand immediately, so startled at the sudden outburst that all she did for a moment was stare at him. Two beats of stifling silence passed before she regained her composure, watching him carefully. He looked equally startled and a little sick, his face paling again rapidly.

“I— Apologies, Fire Lord Zuko,” she said cautiously, smoothening the palm of her hand against the scratchy fabric of her dress.

Zuko was still looking everywhere but her, his eyes wide and miserable as if he hadn’t just been the one who snapped at her. “You don’t have to worry about the consummation,” he said finally, voice quiet and subdued and resentful all at once. Without another word, he turned on his heel and left the room, the door closing quietly behind him.

Xuan stood in the middle of her laughably large room, remembering, not for the first time that day, that she was utterly alone.

— — — — — 

Her days following their wedding day droned on in a blur of etiquette classes as the attendants prepared her to go out into society. She learned from her etiquette teacher that the first step would be to choose her ladies in waiting. And then there would be her debut into noble society, and then to the general public. She tried not to think about it too much, and luckily, she didn’t have much time to think about it. It was a surprisingly busy schedule and by the end of each day, Xuan found herself dragging her tired feet to her large, but wonderfully plush bed.

Being Fire Lady can’t be that different from being a soldier. Think of it as training , she thought to herself each night as she flopped onto the bed. Like drilling your Long Fist form or sparring conditioning. But Fire Lady training. And for forever. This is your life now. Each night she would turn the last thought over and over in her mind before she drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep. And then she would wake up and do it all over again.

Her etiquette teacher was Lady Hoshin, a rather elderly woman with a stern expression. Xuan had faced countless dangers before—Fire Nation radicalists, bandits, bounty hunters—but none of them made her as nervous as Lady Hoshin did. Even compared to her old swordmaster didn’t intimidate her as much as Lady Hoshin did. Their first class had been an onslaught of rapid questions and enough poking and prodding that Xuan felt like an ostrich horse being sold to a farm.

“What year were you born?” She asked first, peering up at Xuan through her spectacles. Though Xuan stood nearly a head taller than her, it somehow felt like Lady Hoshin was peering down at her.

She straightened imperceptibly. “Year of the Ox. The Metal Ox.”

Lady Hoshin’s expression didn’t change as she wrote it down on the scroll she was holding. “Hmm,” she said shortly. “Fire Lord Zuko was born in the year of the Wood Dragon.”

Xuan craned her neck to try to see what she was writing down. “What does that mean?” Lady Hoshin turned to her, brow arched. “I’ve never been particularly superstitious,” Xuan said a bit sheepishly, straightening again.

“It’s not superstition, it’s science,” Lady Hoshin corrected her, her words precise and sharp. “The Ox is diligent and hard-working, honest and direct, stubborn and persistent. The Ox itself is known for its strength and strong will, to the extent that they’re not likely to change course, even in the face of obstacles.” She straightened a little, puffing out her chest. That didn’t sound too bad.

“And the dragon?”

Lady Hoshin gave her a long look. “The Dragon is ambitious and determined, resilient and adaptable, transformative and passionate. Dragons, when they existed, were strong leaders that possessed a natural courage, charisma, and inclination towards innovation.”

Xuan paused, taking in her words. She tried to imagine Zuko’s scowl as one of natural charisma and grimaced, though the description of the ox seemed to hit the spot. “And together?”

“The Ox is stubborn and the Dragon is bossy. Together, there is room for stalemate,” Lady Hoshin said rather plainly. “The Ox’s practical and grounded nature clashes with the Dragon’s more adventurous and risk-taking tendencies. It will be tricky if the Ox and the Dragon do not seek the same things in life.”

That didn’t sound auspicious. “Is this really a science?” She asked dubiously.

“Of course,” Lady Hoshin tsked, frowning at her now. “In the past, the Fire Lady and Fire Lord’s marriage was chosen based on nearly a dozen auspicious factors—lineage, bending strength, chi, compatibility, celestial alignment, the lunar calendar. This time…” Her eyes flicked to Xuan. She straightened automatically under the older woman’s gaze. “Well, the Dragon is said to be innovative,” Lady Hoshin finished wryly.

“And what about the Elements?”

“Each Element controls or restrains the next. It is not unlike bending. Metal cuts Wood. While Wood can be carved into something beautiful and Metal can add minerals to help Wood grow straight and healthy, Wood can easily be toppled with an ax. Or too much Wood can undermine its integrity and an ax can become broken or dull after trying to chop down a forest.”

Xuan frowned, trying to keep up with Lady Hoshin’s words. Their pairing really didn’t sound auspicious now. “So I musn’t cut the wood too much,” she began slowly, brows furrowed. “Or… seek something different from the Dragon?” Her own words sounded a bit absurd to her. Xuan rubbed the back of her neck. 

Instead of answering, Lady Hoshin continued with her questioning. “Have you had your chi read before?”

“Not exactly,” Xuan said as Lady Hoshin reached out and pressed three fingers to the nape of her neck and clasped her other fingers at the base of Xuan’s thumb, as if taking her pulse.

“Your chi is rather faint,” Lady Hoshin remarked, a glimmer of surprise flitting across her face before it smoothed back to its previous stern expression.

“I’m not a bender,” Xuan said, keeping her face equally neutral.

“So I was informed,” Lady Hoshin said calmly. She frowned, applying more pressure to her neck. “Even so, it’s particularly weak.”

Xuan tried not to bristle at this. She didn’t like being called weak and this one felt like it was out of her control. “There was an incident when I was a child,” she said shortly, shifting her weight to her other foot.

To her relief, Lady Hoshin released her and rapped at her side with the scroll. “Stand still.”

Xuan did as told, forcing herself to not wilt under Lady Hoshin’s assessing gaze. 

“Your posture is good,” her teacher said, penning something down on the scroll again. Despite herself, Xuan’s pride inflated a bit as she straightened even more. She grasped Xuan’s hands and inspected them carefully. For the first time, Lady Hoshin displayed an expression outside of her stern disapproval—she looked a bit horrified. “You’ll need to take better care of your nails. The attendants will have to scrub your hands thoroughly—these callouses…” She tsked disapprovingly as she poked at Xuan’s arms. “You look quite… strong.”

“I’m a soldier,” Xuan said defensively, conscious of the roughness of her palms now. She smoothed her hand against her robes.

“Perhaps before,” Lady Hoshin said, as she unraveled a long ribbon with markings. “But now, you are the Fire Lady.” She looped the long ribbon around Xuan’s hip bone in one practiced motion and took a measurement. “Good."

“What’s good?” Xuan asked, trying to peer at the scroll Lady Hoshin was writing on again.

“You have good hips for child-bearing.”

Xuan blinked, heat flushing her cheeks but before she could say anything, Lady Hoshin rolled her scroll shut and took a step back. “We’ll start with the classes tomorrow. I expect your nails to be in better condition by then.”

Xuan nodded, relieved to be dismissed but she hesitated in the doorway. “Lady Hoshin?” She asked. “What year are you?”

“It’s impolite to ask an elder for their age,” Lady Hoshin said disapprovingly as she turned to look at Xuan. “But given that you are the Fire Lady, I shall answer.” For a moment, Xuan could have sworn that the corner of her lips curved upwards. “I was born in the year of the Ox.”

— — — — —

Xuan sat in the shade of the garden, taking a break during a rare gap between her lessons, her eyes skimming the letter that Dao and Lien had penned. The first air ship arrived full of rice and dried meat, Lien wrote. We’ve begun distributing it to the different districts. Xuan smiled to herself, pleased, as she read the rest of the updates. Jinzu has stepped into the role of General and has begun the training again. She snorted to herself at the thought of him trying to keep a straight face in front of the other soldiers, most who had seen him stumbling through the barracks drunk at least once. 

Xuan sighed as she read the last few lines of the letter, having expected the two questions. How is the Fire Palace?

The Fire Palace… Xuan glanced up from the letter, surveying the vast courtyard in front of her. Somehow, for such a large place, the palace felt uncomfortably stuffy, though she didn’t know if that was because of the warm air or because of the constant presence of people around her. A week later and she still didn’t quite know her way around given the sheer size of the palace.

It’s not terrible though, she thought, looking around the garden. To her delight, she had stumbled upon it one evening when she had been trying to get back to her chambers. She made a mental note to write back to Lien about the equipment she had seen in the training grounds.

And your husband? 

Following his outburst and departure that night, Xuan had stared blankly around the room, wondering how she had gotten herself into that situation. While unpacking her belongings, an attendant had brought in a tray of sweets to her pleasant surprise. The attendant had then drawn a bath for her and it had taken an order from her for the attendant to accept that Xuan didn’t need help in the bath. After soaking and dressing into her sleepwear that proved to be too thick for the Fire Nation’s warmer climate, Xuan had sat on her bed and waited to see if he would come back. At some point, she had fallen asleep and that had been the extent of her wedding night.

It hadn’t been horrible, but it had been a far cry away from what Lien had described, red-faced, at the teahouse.

Xuan stared at the last line of the letter, sighing through her nose. Since that night, she hadn’t seen any sign of the Fire Lord—to her frustration, when she had sought him out the next morning, she was informed by Suki that he had left on a diplomatic trip for the week. Wedding, consummation, honeymoon, Lien had told her the order. And then guiding the world to peace, she had added herself. She had the wedding, but how was she about to go about anything else when her husband was missing?

Fine , she would write back to Lien. She had always been a terrible liar, but at least Lien wouldn’t be able to see it on her face through a letter. Maybe she could distract them if she wrote back that he was indeed handsome, even when he was scowling. Which seemed to be always. Everything is fine, she would write. Outside of the fact that they were entirely incompatible, according to Lady Hoshin’s science. She made a note to write in her letter to ask Lien about her thoughts on Ox-Dragon compatibility. I'll be fine.

On the night of his expected arrival, Xuan loitered in the hallway restlessly. When there was no sign of him, she waited back in her room, leaving the door open a crack as she busied herself with her letter back to Lien. When that proved to be dull, she tried reading the book she had found in the palace library on Fire Nation etiquette. That only proved to be duller.

Finally a knock rang against her open door. Xuan sprang to her feet immediately, only to see her attendant, a willowy girl named Yumi, bow at the door.

“I told you that you don’t have to do that, Yumi,” Xuan sighed, settling back in her chair.

“I must though, Fire Lady,” she insisted awkwardly as she straightened. Xuan bit back another sigh as Yumi stepped into her room, a platter of small desserts balanced carefully in her arms. “Your sweets,” Yumi said proudly as she placed the platter on the table.

Xuan blinked. “Oh, I didn’t call for this, but thank you, Yumi, that’s sweet of you.” 

“You didn’t?” She asked, looking perplexed. “But…”

Xuan shook her head, staring down distractedly at the platter in front of her. Everything looked delicious, but the pressing issue was that there was enough to feed at least three people. “This is too much,” she gaped.

“Should I send it back?” Yumi asked, faltering.

Xuan paused before glancing at the girl. “Are you busy now? What time does your post end today?”

“I’m not busy, what would you like me to do?” Yumi responded hurriedly.

Xuan nodded down at the chair next to her. “Would you like to sit and have some with me? You can say no, of course.”

She watched as Yumi blushed all the way to her ears, her head shaking rapidly as her gaze darted from the desserts to Xuan and back to the desserts. “I can’t, ma’am— I mean, Fire Lady.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re the Fire Lady,” Yumi blurted.

Xuan nodded, unperturbed. “But it’ll be such a waste,” she said mournfully, looking at the platter. “And food always tastes better when shared.”

“I—” Yumi protested. Xuan expected her to flee, but to her delight, the brown-haired girl faltered, before nodding reluctantly and taking a careful seat next to her. “Very well, Fire Lady.”

Xuan smiled, pleased as she began plopping some of the pastries onto Yumi’s plate. “Have you had these before?”

“No,” Yumi said. “I’ve only ever served it.”

“I’ve never had these either,” Xuan agreed, pausing as Lien and Dao’s words echoed in her head. Don’t trust anyone, even if they give you sweets. She watched Yumi eye the pastry in a mixture of shock and awe. What a dreadful world that would be, Xuan thought, shaking their words from her head as she picked up a tart. “We can try them together for the first time then.”

“It’s sweet!” Yumi exclaimed, and then, as if remembering herself, flushed and wiped at her mouth carefully.  Xuan grinned a little—she reminded her of Dao.

“So sweet,” Xuan hummed in agreement, eyes fluttering shut in delight. She wished Lien could try this—maybe she could ask them to include this in the next air shipment. “Do you have any siblings, Yumi?”

“One, my Lady,” she said, relaxing as she took another bite. “A younger brother. He recently enrolled in school.”

“And have you worked at the Fire Palace long?”

Yumi shifted in her chair, her bashful expression catching Xuan’s attention. “Only the past month and a half, my Lady. I worked in the city as a housekeeper before.” Xuan’s surprised expression must have been noticeable because Yumi grimaced before insisting quickly, “But I learn fast, my Lady. If there’s anything that displeases you, I’ll take care of it right away.”

Xuan shook her head, putting another fruit tart on the girl’s plate. “I was only surprised because you seemed experienced around the palace.” Yumi bowed her head politely, looking pleased. “So you started working here right before I came.”

“Yes,” Yumi said, her eyes flickering shyly from the fruit tart to Xuan. “Actually, my Lady, I chose to come serve in the Palace because of you.”

“Because of me?” Xuan asked, startled.

The girl nodded eagerly. “Yes, my family— We used to live in the colonies. After Fire Lord Zuko’s decree, we were relocated to the capital, but when I saw in the papers that the Royal Palace was looking for attendants from the Old Colonies, I wanted…” She trailed off, her face pink before she finished determinedly, “I wanted to serve at your side.”

Xuan flushed, warmth growing in her chest as she smiled at the girl. “I’m lucky to have you by my side,” she said sincerely. Yumi smiled down at her plate. “But did you say that the palace was looking for attendants from the Old Colonies specifically?”

Yumi nodded. “There were ads in the papers for weeks and the interview process was quite thorough. I didn’t expect to ever meet the Fire Lord himself, you can imagine how nerve-wracking it was!” The girl proved to be livelier than Xuan had initially expected, much to her delight.

Xuan mulled on this thoughtfully, unsure of what to make with this information. Perhaps he is as thoughtful as the old man said, she thought to herself distractedly before glancing back at Yumi. “I have to ask, since you’re more acquainted with the Fire Nation—is it always this hot here?”

“It’s the hottest month of the year,” Yumi said sympathetically. “After the Fire Lily Festivals in about a month, the weather will get cooler.”

“I see, another month, huh,” she murmured to herself, already sweating at the thought. Though the Earth Kingdom wasn’t anywhere near as cold as the North or South Pole, her clothes were too thick. Each night, she had the balcony wide open, hoping for the slightest breeze. Even now, she was in the under layer of her robes, taking advantage of her wet hair from her bath to cool down.

“The Fire Lily Festivals are quite fun though,” Yumi continued brightly. “You and the Fire Lord should go!”

At the mention of the Fire Lord, Xuan’s attention snapped back to the door. She had nearly forgotten that she was waiting for him. “Yumi, do you know what time Fire Lord Zuko is arriving back to the palace tonight?”

Yumi blinked at her owlishly. “What do you mean?”

“One of the Kyoshi Warriors informed me that he’s supposed to arrive back today from the diplomatic trip, but it seems like they’re getting in rather late. Have you heard any news about their travels?”

“Fire Lord Zuko and his party arrived back two mornings ago,” Yumi said slowly.

Xuan stared at her. “Are you certain?”

She nodded. “I served the Fire Lord his dinner just earlier.”

“In his chambers?”

Yumi frowned. “Do you mean his office?”

“His office?” 

“Yes,” Yumi nodded at the door connecting Xuan’s room to his. “His office. The Fire Lord has been requesting his meals there as of late.” That explained why Xuan still hadn’t had a meal with him.

Xuan fell silent, swallowing back a flare of frustration and confusion. “I see, thank you, Yumi,” she said finally before nodding down at the platter. “It’s getting late, please take these back home with you.” When she tried to protest, Xuan shook her head firmly. “Share it with your brother.”

“Thank you, Fire Lady,” Yumi said with a deep bow. Xuan hardly noticed as she left, her mind reeling as she tried to make sense of what Yumi had told her. And then she stood up, marched to their connecting door, and yanked it open, hard. To her satisfaction, it wasn’t locked.

Any satisfaction, however, quickly melted away at the sight in front of her. 

“I—” Zuko blurted, wide-eyed. He was sitting at his desk surrounded by a stack of scrolls and a half eaten dinner. 

Xuan stared at him, mirroring his look of shock. Zuko was the first to snap out of his stupor though, his gaze darting across her figure before tugging back to her face as if he couldn’t believe she was standing there. 

“Your hair is wet,” he blurted out rather nonsensically.

Xuan stared at him, not sure where to even begin. “Are you avoiding me?” She asked plainly.

He looked startled before his gaze flitted away from her briefly. “Is that what you barged in here to ask me?” He huffed, his expression darkening.

Before he got the chance to start scowling again, Xuan nodded, spurred by the frustration of the past week. “Yes, that’s exactly why,” she said. “I just found out that you had arrived back two mornings ago, but I haven’t seen you since our wedding night.” Zuko’s mouth clamped shut, his eyes darting away from her in what she decided was enough of a confirmation. “Are you avoiding me because I mentioned the consummation?”

As she expected, Zuko’s cheeks flared angrily. “That’s not why,” he gritted out, clearly growing irritated. “And I told you you don’t have to worry about that.”

“So you are avoiding me, just not for that reason,” she confirmed, frowning. 

When he realized she had backed him into a corner, he shot her a withering look. “I’m not avoiding you,” he said unconvincingly. 

She racked her brain for another reason he might have been avoiding her and in a moment of desperation, blurted, “Is it because I’m an Ox?”

Zuko faltered, looking bewildered. She grimaced. “An ox?” He echoed, looking more confused than irritated now.

Clearly that wasn’t the reason. “Never mind,” she mumbled quickly.

Zuko gave her another strange look. “I’ve just been busy.” He gestured down to the stack of scrolls in front of him. It was then that Xuan registered the rest of the room. Yumi had been correct—his room was not a room at all, but an office, not even a quarter the size of her room, filled with a desk and stacks of books. In the corner was a velvet chaise that matched the one in her room, a blanket neatly folded at the foot of it.

“Why—” Xuan fumbled for the words, her gaze flitting to the chaise and blanket in the corner. She doubted that he even fit on the chaise. “Are you sleeping here?”

He looked back down at the scroll in front of him dismissively. “We’ll both be uncomfortable in the same room.”

So she made him uncomfortable. “Speak for yourself,” Xuan said, frowning. “I’m not uncomfortable.”

His expression did something funny though it disappeared as he shot her an impatient look. “Was there something else you needed?”

Xuan bit back a sigh before she tried to pivot strategies. It was clear if she pressed any more on the subject, he’d order her out. Or flee again. “Yes, I’d like access to the training grounds.” His scowl softened into a frown, so she took her chance to continue. “Suki said I can train with the Kyoshi Warriors in private.”

Zuko nodded gruffly. “Very well. I’ll mandate specific time slots for the training grounds.” When she gave no sign of leaving, his single brow arched up questioningly. “Was there anything else?” 

Xuan nodded. “I would also like to start drafting the plans for the Old Colonies with the budget that was allocated.”

“Good. Please keep me updated on the plans,” he said before seeming to catch himself. “Well. You don’t have to, but if you’d like to.”

“Of course,” Xuan agreed. “I think it’d strengthen the relationship between the Fire Nation and the Old Colonies. I’d also like to understand your development of the road system in the Fire Nation—perhaps we could implement something similar in the Old Colonies.”

He nodded. “That’s not a bad idea,” he mused. “It would reduce the reliability on the air ships.”

“And merchants would be able to leave and enter the valleys to trade,” she added eagerly. “Perhaps it’ll encourage travel and commerce.”

“Huh,” he hummed, looking thoughtful as his gaze drifted out towards the window. She could see the tension begin to leave his shoulders. He seemed much more comfortable speaking about work than any personal matters between them. It seemed that the rumors of the Fire Lord being an unsociable workaholic were true. There were worse rumors to be had about the Fire Lord though, Xuan thought to herself absently. “I’ll arrange a report to give you an overview of how we developed it and connect you with a city planner.”

"Thank you." Xuan paused, setting her shoulders as she continued. "And I'd like to attend the council meetings." She was getting restless with all this waiting around—she had married him in part to help demilitarize and guide them to peace, but how could she do that if all she was doing was taking etiquette classes?

His face did something funny as his expression shuttered close, his eyes narrowing almost instantly to assess her. Xuan straightened even more under his gaze. "Absolutely not," Zuko said without missing a beat.

Xuan blinked, taking in his words and the guarded look on his face. “You don’t trust me?”

He blinked, a sheepish expression flitting across his face before it grew defensive again, though he didn't answer her question. “Many of the Fire Sages have not accepted you as Fire Lady yet,” he said gruffly, though he couldn’t quite meet her eyes. He was surprisingly easier to read than she had expected. She wondered if that was a good or bad trait in a Fire Lord. "Your presence now will only complicate matters further."

What a delicate way of answering, Xuan thought as she studied him carefully. She would just have to be patient and earn his trust. “I understand. Though I hope this will change in the future,” Xuan said with a dip of her head. When she straightened, she saw that he was watching her with an odd expression. 

“Was there anything else?”

Xuan hesitated. If she suggested sharing the room, she was sure any morsel of rapport they just created would disintegrate instantly. Patience, she thought to herself. 

“No, that’s everything,” she said finally, stepping back towards the door that connected his office to her chambers. She took in the gray bags under his eyes and the mountain of scrolls around him with a pang of sympathy—maybe he really had just been busy. Even so, it looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “But, my Lord, if you’d like, I don’t mind sleeping on this chaise if you’d prefer the bed—"

He waved her out hurriedly, the scowl returning to his face.

Xuan closed the door behind her, unsure if she had made progress with him or not. Patience , she thought to herself again as she turned to survey the large, empty bedroom. She had the rest of her life to improve their relations. This is your life now.

Chapter Text

A rap at his door. Zuko didn’t look up from his scroll as he called towards the door of his study. “Come in.” Out of his peripheral vision, he could see one of the attendants shuffle in, her bow low as she waited. “Yes?” He hummed distractedly, still skimming over one of the updates that the Jonduri ambassador had sent. There were more reports of growing unrest in the distant Fire Nation islands. Zuko could feel that persistent headache begin to throb again.

“I have the update on Fire Lady Xuan as you asked—”

Zuko stopped to look at the attendant, who was nervously wringing her hands together. What was her name? Zuko wracked his mind for a moment—Yumi. He recognized her as the one he had selected from the interviews a month earlier. She had been the one who was most unabashed about her background in the Old Colonies. The other applicants had all downplayed their origins.

“Yes?” He asked, putting his ink brush down expectantly. His last conversation with Xuan in his office had been a few nights ago, and Zuko had fortunately had the excuse of paperwork to avoid seeing her again. I’m not avoiding her, he told himself unconvincingly before pausing. Though what would the issue be if I was?

“Today was her selection day for the ladies-in-waiting,” Yumi continued, averting her eyes to the ground. 

“And how many did she choose?”

“Two, my Lord.”

“Two?” He repeated, a rise of surprise and alarm flaring within him. His mother had at least a dozen ladies-in-waiting when she was Fire Lady. “She chose two?”

“Well, my Lord, er…” The maid trailed off, face red. 

“Was she being difficult?” He pressed, rising to his feet. Was this her retaliation for avoiding her? A counter for their last interaction? For rejecting her request to attend the council meetings? Irritation began to rise in him steadily—he would have to apologize to the noble families. No, perhaps he would make her apologize to the families. 

“No!” Yumi said with more passion than he had expected from her. Clearly remember her place, she wilted a little, before continuing weakly. “Only five ladies… came for the selection.”

Zuko jolted at the information, his anger deflating slowly in place of guilt that he swallowed back quickly. Becoming a lady-in-waiting was a highly coveted position for the nobles—a rare step into the palace. He had heard that selection day normally took the full day, and that was after vetting out most of the ladies from the application process. He faltered, sitting back down in his chair heavily. “I see,” he said finally.

“Yes, I’ve heard rumors that the noblewomen don’t want to serve a…” Yumi trailed off nervously.

“Tell me what they said exactly,” he demanded, before softening. “You won’t be punished.”

“A dirt eater,” the maid whispered. “And… I’m sure Fire Lady Xuan has also heard such language.”

Fury burned low and dangerous in Zuko’s stomach. He should have expected as much from the nobility—he had already upset many of the noble families refusing their marriage offers, only to marry someone outside of the Fire Nation. And it didn’t help that she came from the Old Colonies. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before he turned back to her “And how did Fire Lady Xuan take the whole… ordeal?”

“I— If I can be honest, my Lord,” Yumi began hesitantly.

“Of course,” he said immediately, leaning forward to listen to her quiet words.

“Well, I— She— She didn’t quite—” The maid stammered, face flushed.

Zuko sighed, rising to his feet. A twinge of unease twisted uncomfortably in his stomach. He could imagine her standing in the empty room, embarrassed and pride wounded, as she looked at the five candidates, all while trying to save face.“I’ll hear it from her instead,” he said, nodding at her. “Please ask Lady Xuan if she would like to join me for dinner today.” 

“Yes, Fire Lord,” the maid said with a deep bow before she turned to leave.

“Did she…” Zuko started slowly, busying himself as he unrolled the scroll again. “Enjoy the sweets that the kitchen prepared?”

Yumi hesitated, a funny look crossing her face. “Yes, but she said it was too much.”

“I see,” Zuko said, pausing. Maybe it had been too much.

“But—” Yumi started again rather earnestly, “—she seemed to enjoy it.”

“Oh. Well. That’s good.” He said faltering as he nodded to himself. “Well, please tell the kitchen staff to prepare a few servings of the moon peach cakes that my uncle sent from Ba Sing Se.”

— — — — —

Zuko sighed as he sat at the long table in the banquet hall, staring at the spread of dishes in front of him. Perhaps it was too much, he thought as he stared at the dishes critically before glancing at the clock. As much as he wanted to deny it, he knew he was trying to compensate for having accused her in his mind of retaliating against him.

Good thing I didn’t say anything to her, he thought to himself, I am not my father. Even so, it was hard to repress certain instincts and reactions, and it was beginning to seem that the worst of it jumped out around Xuan. We’ll have a nice and civil meal together, he thought to himself with a steadying breath. She’ll likely need some support after today’s events. He squinted at the carefully prepared dishes critically. He wondered if she liked Fire Nation cuisine. Maybe he should have requested a few dishes from the Earth Kingdom. Zuko sighed again, scrubbing a hand over his face.

Nearly half an hour had passed now and the food was beginning to grow cold. Perhaps she won’t come, he thought, straightening the sleeves of his robes.

Perhaps she wouldn’t want to see him so soon after such an event. Xuan seemed like a proud woman—maybe she needed time to stitch up her wounds. And it wasn’t like he had been of any support to her anyways. The memory of their first night made his skin prickle with guilt.

Why did I have to snap at her? He groaned inwardly, pinching at the bridge of his nose.

He hadn’t expected her to bring up their consummation at all. Why would she? It would only mean she’d have to spend a night with him, and he couldn’t think of any good reason why she’d want to do that with a stranger. He was even worse than a stranger to her—he was her colonizer’s ruler, a genocidal maniac’s son, a disfigured and disgraced man playing Fire Lord. 

The suspicious ghosts that seemed to always haunt around him, the ones that sounded like his father and sister, whispered that she brought up the consummation with ulterior motives. Maybe she wanted to officialize their marriage with an heir she could control. Maybe she wanted to wait for him to let his guard down to plunge a dagger into his chest. Zuko couldn’t think of any other reason why she would willingly bring it up. There was nothing else for her to gain.

And there was the case of her request to attend the council meetings—the thought made him uneasy, and it had made him even more uneasy when she pointed out that he didn’t trust her. Of course he didn’t trust her, but to hear it spelled out so plainly had brought up the irrational, ridiculous urge to apologize. It was the goddamned ghosts of his father and sister, the lifetime in the Fire Palace, the assassination attempts. It felt like it was always raining on him—how could he trust anyone?

And so he had panicked like a coward, like he was sixteen years old again, both times snapping and lashing out and the result had been immediate. He saw the wary expression on her face after she startled away from him, the reflection of his father in her eyes and for a fleeting moment, he wondered if he was wrong. He wondered if there were some clouds he couldn’t outrun no matter how much time passed, and if his father was one of them. He could still feel the cool sensation of her fingers wrapped around his wrist.

Why would she come? He swallowed back his own frustration, though he could feel it begin to grip him like a serpent. It wasn’t like he had ordered her to come—the thought made him a little ill. He remembered the dinners where his father had ordered his mother to join them—it made him hate the banquet hall. Even now as he sat at the table, the room felt impossibly large and empty.

I am not my father, he thought again, like a mantra, but he couldn’t shake off the empty feeling of the banquet hall.

He had never been able to shake off that stark feeling of emptiness, not since seven years ago when they had defeated his father and his friends had hosted an impromptu celebratory banquet in the weeks that followed. It had been the first time he had seen the banquet hall so full and lively and at the time, he had thought that the wonderful memory of eating with his friends would reshape any bad old memories of the banquet hall. Had he known that their absence would only exacerbate the feeling of absence, Zuko would have never attended. The loneliness only seemed to grip him with stronger talons now, even seven years later. All this to say, Zuko preferred to eat in his office, where the room was smaller and there were less reminders of everyone he missed and didn’t miss.

“Shall I heat up the food, Fire Lord?” 

Zuko snapped from thoughts, blinking out of his daze to look at the attendant that had spoken up. He glanced at the clock. Another ten minutes had passed. “I will call if I need you,” he said with a sigh, dismissing the staff from the room. He’d wait ten more minutes and if she didn’t show, then it was her loss. And I’ll have to find a way to get more ladies-in-waiting, he noted, already dreading the talks he would have to have with whatever noble family that didn’t already hate him. 

A knock at the door roused him from his thoughts. “I said I’d call if I needed you—” Zuko began irritably, but the words quickly died in his throat as he turned.

“Apologies, Fire Lord,” Xuan said. Her hair was in a bit of a disarray, inky curls falling from the hold of a dark green ribbon as if she had been running. She was still wearing her Earth Kingdom clothes, he observed dimly to himself—the green and brown robes looked out of place against the scarlet banners in the banquet hall. A seduction ploy, the ghosts around him whispered as he took in her flushed cheeks distractedly. She bowed her head politely. “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting. I was training with Suki when Yumi came and I wanted to freshen up for dinner.” She straightened to meet his eyes. It felt like she was seeing right through him. He shifted uncomfortably on his chair before forcing himself to still. The Fire Lord does not squirm. “Given that this is our first meal together, I didn’t want to look as though I was coming from the training grounds.”

“I see,” Zuko said lamely before he cleared his throat, tearing his gaze away from her to gesture at the seat across from him. He hadn’t expected for her to point out that it was their first meal together. A confusing mix of relief and embarrassment flooded his system. “Please have a seat. The food is growing cold.”

She sat down, eyes darting around at the food on the table. “This looks incredible,” she remarked with surprising cheer. “Is this all from the kitchens?”

Zuko relaxed, taking in her expression with a feeling akin to satisfaction. “Of course,” he said. “Our cooks are the best in the Fire Nation.” To prove it, he leaned over and spooned a dumpling onto her plate. “Try it.”

She inspected it for a moment before obliging. “It’s delicious,” she said, looking surprised and pleased all at once.

Zuko nodded, satisfied. “Of course,” he said again before realizing he was just staring. He busied himself by plopping a sausage onto her plate and then onto his.

“Komodo sausage,” she observed. 

“You’ve had it before?” He asked, surprised. It was a delicacy in the Fire Nation.

She nodded. “Yumi has been introducing me to different cuisines.”

“I see,” he said, before pausing for a few beats too long.

How was he going to bring it up? Zuko had no delusions about his social skills. He had realized rapidly when he first assumed the throne that while he was able to navigate the political talks with his advisors and ambassadors, he was horribly lacking in any other type of talking. And in the seven years that had passed, he had been too busy trying to demilitarize the country to attend any dinner parties or banquets to practice. At least, that’s what he told himself every time he declined another invitation. And eventually, they stopped coming, much to his relief. It was common rumor now that the Fire Lord was an unsocialized workaholic. At the time, he had shrugged it off, thinking that there were worse impressions to be had about the Fire Lord—at least they weren’t calling him his father or a power hungry tyrant.

Now though, as he peered at Xuan awkwardly, any semblance of words like coal lumps in his throat, he cursed himself inwardly for not practicing when he had the chance. Maybe he really hadn’t grown at all in the past seven years. Finally, he said, “Komodo sausages are a delicacy in the Fire Nation.”

“I can see why,” Xuan said easily, nodding affably. 

“The spices are harvested on Hing Wa Island,” he supplied helpfully.

“It’s a unique flavor,” she agreed politely.

Zuko grimaced. He was sure if he kept talking, they would win the record of having the longest conversation focused on a sausage. He swallowed thickly, aware that the only sounds in the room were the scrape of their utensils. He tried to switch tactics. “You’re training with Suki now?”

Xuan didn’t seem to notice his stilted speech because she nodded, before hurriedly adding, “But only in the evening in the private training grounds, so no one sees. The Kyoshi Warriors have been great to train with.”

“That’s good.” Silence fell over the two of them again and Zuko grimaced, racking his brain about how to bring up the candidate selection. “How are you faring?” He asked carefully, glancing at her.

“Well,” she said rather shortly, her attention darting around the table. A flicker of pain flashed across her face. “I have nothing to complain about.”

Zuko’s concern grew. He put his chopsticks down, not sure how to continue. “I— Er, well I heard that today…” he trailed off, taking in her wounded expression. Her eyes looked glassy.

For a moment, a memory he had buried long ago surfaced in his mind painfully. He was young and alone at one of the banquets hosted by a merchant that had started a thriving business in the colonies—his father was introducing Azula to the merchants as he lingered by the wall, trying to ignore the indiscreet whispers directed at him. Anger and pity flared within him, whether for Xuan or his younger self, he wasn’t sure, but it spurred him to continue.

“I’ll personally speak with the nobility and the Fire Sages. You don’t have to worry about the backlash. And if I hear any one of them using those… those slurs , I’ll personally have them put on trial for defamation—”

“Fire Lord?” She choked out.

Zuko stopped immediately, anxious. What was he supposed to do if she cried? Zuko wasn’t well-acquainted with the mechanics of a hug, let alone pinpointing the timing of one. The last time he had hugged someone was a year ago when Sokka visited and Sokka had observed that he was as stiff and cold as an iceberg. And anyways, this was his wife, he couldn’t just hug her—

“Is there any water? This is spicier than I expected—”

He stared at her uncomprehendingly for a moment, any anger and anxiety in him deflating instantly. “I— Yes,” he said, leaning over to pour her a glass. She gulped it down gratefully, letting out a long exhale after.

“I thought my mouth was on fire,” she said, looking embarrassed as she pressed a napkin to the corner of her eyes. “I didn’t realize Fire Nation food was that spicy.”

“It is,” Zuko said dumbly, half incredulous, half relieved she wasn’t actually crying. 

He watched as she slowly regained her composure while he simultaneously tried to regain his own. “You said you’ll be speaking with the nobility and Fire Sages?” She asked. “Does this have to do with the Old Colonies?”

“No, I—” Zuko could feel the beginning of a headache coming on. “I heard what happened today at the selection,” he blurted finally.

“Ah, yes,” she said, nodding. “What did you think of my selections?”

“Your selections?” He echoed, tracking her expression carefully. But she only looked thoughtful, not embarrassed or uncomfortable like he had expected.

“Yes, Lady Tarek and Lady Sorin,” she said, looking at him expectantly. It occurred to him then that he hadn’t asked Yumi who she had selected.

Zuko faltered, feeling as though he was quickly losing grasp of the conversation. “I heard,” he began again carefully, trying to steer the conversation back. “—that there were only five candidates.” When she nodded in confirmation, Zuko was stumped to see that her expression didn’t change at all. He swallowed thickly. He would just have to spit it out, it seemed. “Are you faring okay? You know, there are typically around a hundred candidates…” He grimaced and trailed off, not wanting to rub salt into her wounds.

“Ah,” Xuan hummed, still seemingly unperturbed as she inspected the fire oil noodles warily. “Yes, Yumi mentioned it to me a few days ago and I had been dreading it a bit. But if I’m being honest, I was relieved to see there were only a few candidates. It made the selection process easier.”

“You were relieved,” Zuko echoed, dumbfounded now.

She paused, brows furrowed and gaze keen as she took in his expression. He was struck again with the feeling that she was seeing right through him. Zuko tried not to squirm again. “You didn’t think I chose only two on purpose, right? Although I do find the whole concept of having ladies-in-waiting troublesome.”

“No,” Zuko lied unconvincingly, careful to busy himself with spooning more komodo chicken onto her plate as a wave of shame washed over him. He had the ridiculous urge to apologize, but he swallowed it back stubbornly. The Fire Lord does not squirm.

“Unsurprisingly, your nobility is not keen on supporting an Earth Kingdom native,” she continued plainly. “The candidates who showed up today either had something they were desperate to gain, so much so that they were willing to forgo their loyalties to get a step into the palace or they had nothing to lose.”

Zuko paused, trying to make sense of her words all while making a mental note that she was as clever and cunning as he had initially suspected. He would have to be careful around her, though this wasn’t a new thought. Perceptive and deceptive, he thought to himself warily. What other person would agree to marry the Fire Lord, in any case?

“Isn’t that the same thing?” He asked, frowning a bit.

“I don’t think so,” Xuan said distractedly, sawing at the komodo chicken. “Someone with something to gain is like a starved tiger. Without their next meal, they have everything to lose. Someone with nothing to lose is like a tigress that’s lost her cubs.”

“So which did you choose? The starved tiger or the tigress?” 

“Which would you choose, Fire Lord Zuko?”

“The starved tiger,” he said easily. With a starved tiger, he’d know that all he had to do to keep the tiger in check was to feed it or dangle meat in front of it.

“Oh, I don’t think you’ll like my selections then,” she mused, her lips curving into a frown. 

“You chose the tigress,” Zuko said slowly.

“Two of them,” she said. If he didn’t know better, he would have said that she sounded sheepish. “Both Lady Tarek and Lady Sorin’s families have fallen from nobility for a generation or two now. They didn’t have the risk of their family name in pledging support to… well, me, I suppose. The three others seemed to have a clear goal in mind, something important enough that they’d risk backlash from the other families for even showing up.”

“So why choose the tigress?” 

“Well, I just thought it’d be easier to build trust with them,” Xuan said easily with a shrug. The simplicity of her statement after her other analyses made it feel like he was being clubbed over the head. He was having trouble keeping up with the conversation.

“That’s the reason?” He repeated, disbelievingly.

“I’ve been both the starved tiger and the tigress before,” she said. Zuko watched her expression smoothen out. “I was my most desperate when I was the starved tiger and my most accepting when I was the tigress.”

Zuko thought about his younger self, desperate to find the Avatar to regain his father’s approval and held back a shiver. In those days, he had been ready to do anything, risk everything to be his father’s son again. It was when he decided to join the Avatar that he had nothing left to lose.

He watched her carefully as she finally finished cutting through the komodo chicken. He couldn’t tell if she was cunningly deceptive or just straightforward to a fault. “And which are you now?”

“The starved tiger,” she said easily, her gaze turning to him again. Her eyes were startlingly clear, the deep browns of them like rich earth warmed by the sun. “Isn’t that why you chose me?”

— — — — —

Why did I get chosen? Xuan wondered as she stared at the other ladies.

Her first tea party started and ended as a disaster.

It’ll be your first step into society, Lien had written to her when Xuan mentioned it in her letter. Be on guard—they’ll use this as an opportunity to assess you. Be polite and don’t give them a reason to dislike you.

It felt as if the sun was bearing down on her personally as she sat in the garden with the other ladies. The parasol in her hand seemed to serve no use, even as she adjusted it for the nth time.

“And how have you adjusted to the Fire Nation, Lady Xuan?” The lady to the right of her asked carefully. She was beautiful, in a haughty and untouchable manner, dressed in silk orange robes.

These are the court ladies Dao tried to warn me about, she thought to herself as she shifted her attention back to the conversation. She had tried to keep up, but it was difficult to remember their names, let alone understand who else they were gossiping about. This lady was Lady Mirae, the High Admiral’s wife, who had requested the tea party  in the first place. Lady Hoshin had stated clearly that Lady Mirae was one of the largest influencers when it came to the realm of the court ladies.

“Study and use her techniques,” Lady Hoshin had told her sternly. “Do not make an enemy out of her.”

“It’s Fire Lady, Lady Mirae,” she reminded her. A flicker of irritation flashed over Lady Mirae’s pretty face and Xuan noted that she didn’t apologize outside of a polite dip of her head. “And I’ve adjusted well enough. The weather is not quite what I’m used to. It’s a much warmer climate here.”

“Yes,” Lady Mirae said, nodding delicately as she sipped her tea. “I hear the temperature in the Earth Kingdom is quite… lower than the Fire Nation.” A few soft giggles erupted from the other ladies, but when Xuan looked, they were quickly hidden behind fluttering fans. I wish I had a fan, Xuan thought dimly to herself. It felt like she was overheating in her Earth Kingdom robes. 

“I suppose it’s because the Fire Nation is at the equator, and the Earth Kingdom is much higher above the equator line,” Xuan said distractedly, adjusting the neckline of her robes in a pitiful attempt to air herself out. When she glanced back up, she was startled to see that Lady Mirae’s face had a pinched smile on it. The other ladies were silent as well. She paused, trying to replay their past conversation, wondering what on earth she could have already said wrong.

“I see,” Lady Mirae said tightly. Her gaze flickered to Xuan’s hands, which were still trying to adjust her robes. Xuan stilled immediately, inwardly grimacing as she could hear her etiquette teacher’s scolding in her head. The Fire Lady does not squirm. The Fire Lady must appear elegant at all times. It was hard to appear elegant when she was sweating through her inner robes, Xuan thought wryly to herself.

“I’m surprised to see that you’re still wearing the Earth Kingdom robes,” another lady spoke up. Lady Zhou, daughter of one of the generals. Or admirals. Something like that, Xuan thought. Or was she the daughter of one of the up and coming businessmen?

“It’s—” All I have, she was going to say, before she cleared her throat. Lien would be proud, she thought. “It reminds me of home.”

“Yes, home,” another lady drawled. Xuan wracked her brain for that lady’s name and position, but nothing came up. “It’s very homely.”

Another round of giggles, this time not hidden behind fans. It was harder to keep up with them than a battle, Xuan thought as another lady spoke up. It felt like she was swordless surrounded by bandits. “We were all surprised to hear about the wedding.”

“None of us knew that Fire Lord Zuko had such a soft spot for…” Another lady trailed off meaningfully, sipping her tea. She knew she was being insulted, but it was frustrating because she didn’t know exactly how she was being insulted to respond properly.

“Well, if you think about it, there were signs,” Lady Zhou pointed out. “His guards are all sourced from the Earth Kingdom. The Kyoshi Warriors.” Disdain dripped from her voice.

Xuan frowned at this. “The Kyoshi Warriors are the most elite form of protection. They’ve trained for years in—” 

“Perhaps,” Lady Zhou said dismissively, fluttering her fan. She exchanged a look with the lady next to her. “I think they ought to spend years training in their makeup.” Another round of giggles.

“It’s customary,” Xuan said, as she thought back to Suki. When she was younger, she had read all the books she could find on the Kyoshi and the Kyoshi Warriors. “The colors have a meaning. The red is to symbolize honor, heroism, loyalty…”

Lady Zhou cast her an unimpressed look. “ I think it’s a sorry attempt to compensate for not being more womanly.” She paused for a beat, before an apologetic smile graced her lips. “Apologies, Lady Xuan, I forgot that you were in a similar position previously as a general…? Perhaps Fire Lord Zuko’s tastes run to the less… feminine.”

So this is what they were getting at. Xuan wasn’t as angry as she was resigned, wondering if Lien would have been able to spot this coming faster than she had. Xuan had long since passed the era of her life where she wished for femininity—she was sure that the concept changed across the nations, across time, so she had long ago accepted that it wasn’t a favorable use of her time to mull over it. And in any case, she liked being a general and she had never once considered it being used as an insult against her. She was proud of it. Probably too proud because as the other ladies watched her carefully clearly in anticipation, Xuan had no idea how to retort. The insult had passed over her like smoke, but Xuan could almost hear Lady Hoshin’s voice in her mind telling her that the Fire Lady did not tolerate any semblance of an insult. 

What to say, she wondered, scanning the courtyard desperately, but she didn’t have to wonder long because before she could open her mouth to respond, a familiar glimmer caught her eye and her body responded, tuned to years of training. For the first time, Xuan was a bit relieved that her life was being threatened—at least she wouldn’t have to stitch together some kind of diplomatic response.

She ducked sharply. 

“What are you doing ?” Lady Zhou gasped as Xuan rose up again, this time to her feet. Another glimmer.

“Get down,” she snapped, as the familiar whizz of a dagger flew by her ear. She snapped it out of the way with her parasol as chaos erupted. With the flurry of fabrics as the ladies scrambled away from the table in a shock, it was difficult to tell where the daggers had come from. Xuan scanned the garden quickly, before her gaze snagged on to a servant staring at her.

He would have looked like any other Fire Palace servant, except the expression on his face was startling enough to catch her attention. The look of resentment on his face was chilling, but Xuan had no time to think about it as she moved towards him, nearly tripping over her clunky robes and the scattering ladies in the process.

“Stop!” She shouted, still gripping her parasol as she ran after him. She brought the parasol down across his head once, but he turned in time to dodge it, looking startled. She struck again, this time catching him across the cheek, hard enough that she could feel the parasol crack in her hand.

“Mudling,” he snarled as he lunged forward, dagger in hand. Xuan tried to dodge, but she nearly tripped again over heavy fabrics of her robes. She barely registered the sting to her shoulder as she saw the man prepare to lunge again. She opened the parasol, catching the dagger in its fabric, and twisted, jerking the dagger from his hand. Triumphant, she grabbed the dagger from where it had gotten lodged in the fabric as the man turned and fled.

To her horror, she watched as he reached out for the closest lady to him, whether to use as a shield or as a hostage, she didn’t know, but she was winding her arm back instinctively as he grabbed the lady, the dagger flying from her hand and embedding in his bicep. The lady shrieked as the man stumbled back, letting her go. Xuan reached out to catch her, this time really tripping over her robes and tumbling to the ground with the lady. When she looked up, there was no sign of the man. Only ladies in colorful silks scrambling across the garden in a panic.

She looked down at the weight in her arms to see a pale-faced Lady Mirae staring up at her, a splatter of blood across her face from where it had pressed against her bleeding shoulder. “Are you hurt?” She asked. Lady Mirae shook her head, looking stunned. Xuan let out another sigh of relief. At least that wasn’t another reason for Lady Mirae to hate her. Maybe Lady Hoshin would forgive her. “Sorry,” Xuan said, grabbing the long sleeve of her robes to dab carefully at Lady Mirae’s cheek. To her relief, her face regained color quickly, her cheeks flushed pink. “My blood got on your face.”

“What happened?” Suki’s voice, on edge and alarmed. The Kyoshi Warriors must have heard the commotion.

Xuan carefully helped Lady Mirae back to her feet as she faced the Kyoshi Warrior. “Assassin. Dressed as a servant. He escaped, I think he was headed north of the garden but I didn’t see clearly.”

Suki barked some orders and a few of the Kyoshi Warriors rushed out of the garden, golden fans in hand. “Are you injured?” She asked, her eyes scanning over Xuan’s disheveled robes carefully.

“He hit my shoulder, but it’s shallow,” she said, glancing down at the sliced fabric. “Otherwise, my parasol took most of the damage,” she added wryly.

“I’ll escort you to the healers,” Suki said. 

Xuan nodded, glancing around at the mess of the garden. The tables and chairs had all been knocked over and shattered teacups decorated the ground. “Please have your warriors check the ladies for injuries and escort them until their carriages arrive.” 

Suki nodded, turning to another Kyoshi Warrior. Xuan stepped forward to follow, but to her surprise, she realized that Lady Mirae had not yet let go of her hand. 

“Fire Lady Xuan,” Lady Mirae stammered, still wide-eyed with shock.

Xuan extracted her hand from Lady Mirae’s carefully, patting her hand awkwardly. “It’s safe now, the Kyoshi Warriors will protect you.” Xuan looked at her, noticing that her blood had also gotten onto her orange robes. “Ah, I’m sorry, it’s also on your robes,” she said apologetically.

“Fire Lady Xuan, we should get you to the healer wing now,” Suki said again, looking concerned. Xuan nodded, following her quickly through the palace halls.

“How do you think he got in?” Xuan asked as they turned the corner of the medical wing. 

Shame flitted over Suki’s face. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “We’ve tightened up the security, but there were a lot of people coming in and out with the tea party today. He must have slipped in…” The Kyoshi Warrior trailed off, her grip on her fan tight as she bowed her head. “Apologies, Fire Lady. We’ll find him and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“It’s okay,” Xuan started, but Suki shook her head firmly as they stopped outside a door.

“The healer is inside. I’ll stay and keep watch here.”

Xuan sighed, taking in the warrior’s slumped shoulders before nodding. She entered the room and was immediately ushered to a cot. The healer peeled off her outer robe swiftly before bending a stream of water into a basin by the cot.

“Does it hurt, Fire Lady?” She asked, face pale as she helped Xuan lower her inner robe to bare her right shoulder.

“No, it’s shallow,” Xuan murmured, assessing the damage. The blood had seeped through her robes but it looked to be a clean cut. The adrenaline must not have worn off yet because she couldn’t feel any sting from where she had been cut. The healer began bending water from the basin to clean it.

Xuan sighed, closing her eyes as she took a steadying breath, trying to replay the past events in her mind. She had gotten a glance at the assassin, but it would be a question of whether they’d find him again. With the chaos of the ladies scattering and the accessibility of the garden, it was likely that he was long gone.

Mudling, he had spat. It had been a long time since she had seen such disgust directed to her, but she had never seen blatant hate. Xuan took another steadying breath. She had expected resistance to her new role given her background, but she hadn’t expected an attempt on her life. Though as she mulled it over, it became less surprising. I’ll have to work harder, she thought to herself. At what, though, she wasn’t sure yet.

The door burst open, accompanied by a thundering voice. “What did you do?” 

Xuan flinched, startled by the sudden burst of the door, and the pure fury in Zuko’s voice as he stalked into the room. The healer jumped as well, the water she had been bending splashing down around them. 

“I— I will go get more water,” the healer murmured, all but rushing out of the room.

Xuan stared, dumbfounded, as Zuko stormed up to her, his gold eyes sharp with hot anger. “Is this some form of retaliation?” He demanded, towering over where she sat on the bed. His body language was sharp and intimidating, fury rolling off his figure in waves. 

“What?” She floundered, trying to make sense of his words. “Retaliation?”

“Do you have any idea what position you’ve put the Royal Family in with your actions?”

“My actions?” She echoed.

“How could you hit the general’s daughter? Zhou is threatening to gather the noble families to—”

“I didn’t hit the general’s daughter,” she interrupted sharply, rising to her feet now. “Are you out of your mind?”

For a moment, she could see Zuko’s anger flare at her words, before flickering, just enough for him to seemingly make sense of the room. His gaze darted to her bared shoulder and her bloodied robes in her arms. “What—” he began, looking baffled as his anger began to deflate into bewilderment.

Xuan didn’t wait for him to finish as she continued sharply, her irritation growing into anger. “I didn’t hit anyone,” she said, trying to keep her voice even, but she could feel a dizzying tremble of anger. She could hear her father’s voice telling her to take a deep breath, but Zuko’s accusation had sparked something in her that was only fanning into a larger fire. It felt like she was burning up. “The only person I hit was the assassin.”

“General Zhou said his daughter…” Zuko trailed off, his face paling. 

Mudling, that man had cursed, hate in his eyes. Was it any different from the disdain on the court ladies’ face or the distrust in his eyes whenever Zuko looked at her? Resentment, vitriol, hostility. It had been nearly nonstop since their wedding day. Even if she did things right. And what if she worked harder? Would anything change? I’m alone here, Xuan thought. Hated and alone. 

“And you believed him, of course,” Xuan said, resigned. “You don’t trust me.” She barked out a bitter laugh, taking in the sure flash of guilt and shame that flickered across his face. “I know you think the worst of me, but I had hoped that the Fire Lord would be more… more…”

I had hoped that the Fire Lord would bring us to peace, she thought, her mouth going dry. The goddamn palace was always so hot. She was suddenly so tired, her limbs and mind and anger gone heavy, like rain turning to hail. Rain, she thought dreamily. The mountains had been in a drought for so long, how she longed for the rain. If only it rained, maybe all their problems would begin to go away. Was she hallucinating or could she hear rain?

“Xuan?” Zuko started, alarmed as he stepped towards her, fingers outstretched. Oh, she thought dimly as her knees buckled underneath her. Dark splotches danced across her vision. It’s the first time he’s used my name.

Chapter Text

They found the assassin lying not far from the gardens, dead to his own poison from the blade that Xuan had thrown back at him. Xuan had been luckier—her cut shallow and the healer close enough to bend out the poison from her in time—but the thought of it made Zuko go cold.

“I’ve extracted as much of the poison as I could,” the healer had said. “But we have to let the rest run its course. I’ll monitor her closely.” 

The remaining poison had been mostly identifiable, some mixture of Firethorn extract. Zuko knew from his attempted assassinations that Firethorn extract caused a full range of symptoms—there was the initial burning as the compounds in the poison interacted with the body’s heat regulation systems, and then fever and delirium. And anything after that was unrecoverable.

She spent the first night shivering and quaking, so much so that Zuko closely monitored the fires, bending it to warm the room until even he was sweating. The second night had been the fever. He had been sitting next to her bed late at night when she woke briefly, tearing at her robes. Her hair was drenched in sweat, her skin crimson and burning. She was staring at him unseeingly, her pupils wide and dilated.

“Ba,” she gasped hoarsely, her face flush with fever. Tears streamed from her eyes, whether from the pain or from her nightmare, Zuko didn’t know. “Please don’t…” The rest of her words trailed off into an incoherent mumble, her face scrunching tight with pain as she fell unconscious again. Zuko had sprung to his feet, shouting for the healer but all they could do was keep damp towels on her skin to keep her from overheating. 

That was last night. Now, two days from the initial attack, it seemed that she had fallen into a restless sleep. Zuko sat by her bed, his attention flickering from the scrolls in his hand to her sleeping figure periodically. He had been trying to read up on nonbender chi, but there was far less documentation on it in the Fire Nation’s archives than there was on bender chi. Finally, he gave up, rolling the scroll close and setting to the side as he leaned over to wipe at her brow with a damp cloth. The worst of the fever had subsided, but her arm that had taken the slice remained taut with tension, her fingers balled around the sheets of the bed.

At the sight, a pang of guilt rang through him. It was difficult to see her like this. She had always held herself up so proudly, always seemed so sure, that it was eerie to see her incapacitated on the bed. 

“She’s strong physically,” the Royal Healer had remarked once Xuan had stabilized, “But her constitution is unexpectedly weak.” 

“What does that suggest?” Zuko had demanded, scanning Xuan’s body though he knew he wouldn’t be able to see anything out of the ordinary. Healers and chi readers spent years mastering how to sense a person’s chi.

“Well, having a weak chi normally affects five things: bending, fatigue, physical ailments, or emotional stability. Fire Lady Xuan isn’t a bender and she seems strong and clear-headed. I’d guess that she’s likely easily susceptible to physical ailments—illnesses, colds, and slower recovery. I’m not well-versed in matters related to chi, but it seems that her chi paths were disrupted here—” The healer pointed at Xuan’s abdomen, frowning to herself quizzically. “—and redirected to flow past her spine.”

Zuko sighed as he studied her form. Yumi had mentioned to him not once that Xuan had woken up with a passing cold, but he hadn’t thought twice about it before. She seemed uncharacteristically small now. 

“Recover quickly,” he murmured—whether it was a wish, a demand, or a prayer, he didn’t know—as he reached over to gently pry her fingers away from the sheets. Her muscles were tight from the clenching. Zuko cradled her arm in his hands and dragged his thumb gingerly down her forearm to her palm to her fingertips, trying to release the tension. He did this again and again carefully, until her hand relaxed.

“Zuko,” Suki’s quiet voice came from behind him.

Zuko didn’t turn around as he focused on Xuan’s hand relaxing in his. Her hands were rough and calloused, he realized, the same sort of calluses he had from his sword training. He ran his thumb over her palm once more. “Any news?” He asked.

“General Zhou admitted to a scheme, but nothing related to the assassination attempt,” Suki said. “Lady Zhou was supposed to knock over tea.”

“To bait Xuan into a fight,” Zuko finished with a tired sigh.

“So when the news broke out that there was an incident, he had assumed his plan was successful and came to see you to demand reparations. He hadn’t known that there was an assassination attempt.”

Zuko nodded shortly, feeling a headache begin throb behind his eyes. Another dead end. 

“Very well,” he said finally. His gaze fell on Xuan again. “Keep him in custody for now. It should serve as a lesson to treat the Fire Lady with respect.” He could feel Suki still lingering behind him. “Is there anything else?”

“No,” the Kyoshi Warrior began. “But I think you should rest, Zuko. You haven’t slept in days.”

“No,” he said, his gaze flitting back to Xuan’s strained expression. 

“We will have Kyoshi Warriors posted here at all times—”

“I would like to be here when she wakes up,” he said firmly.

“Very well,” Suki sighed, taking her leave.

— — — — —

Her swords clattered to the ground like broken twigs, her knees buckling as she crumpled to the ground. Her father’s hands clasped around her shoulders, his big, brown eyes staring down at her urgently. “Are you hurt?” He asked, eyes scanning her anxiously.

She shook her head, stunned, and a look of relief broke out across his face. The force from the blast left her mind slow and sluggish, her body aching, her ears ringing, and she couldn’t quite pinpoint what was wrong as her father cupped her cheek gently. He looked so terribly sad, she thought, the emotion so unfamiliar but startlingly clear in his expression that she didn’t know what to do as he smiled at her.

“My lovely daughter,” he murmured. Something is wrong, she thought, but she couldn’t move. Why can’t she feel her legs? “Don’t be angry, hm?” He hummed, his hand grasping her shoulder so tightly it hurt. It’s the words he had told her countless times before, but this time, she hadn’t gotten into an argument with Dao or Lien or she hadn’t gotten frustrated with her training. “There’s so much hope in the world if you’re patient. You’re strong, but you don’t have…” His lips were moving, but she couldn’t hear anything but a dull ringing noise as she stared at him. But I don’t have what?

“Ba, what’s wrong—” she tried to say, but the words were like sandpaper in her throat.

Something is terribly wrong, she realized, as his grip on her shoulder loosened to nothing, his hand falling away from her cheek as his head slumped onto her shoulder.

Something is wrong , Xuan thought groggily as her vision drifted back to black. There was a light pressure around her hand, steady and warm and lulling her out of the darkness. 

When she opened her eyes, it was difficult to see against the soft white light streaming through the window. She blinked blearily, trying to focus her eyes. Her head was cottony and her mouth was paper dry and she felt dreadfully cold and stiff, save for her hand. Her hand. Xuan blinked a few more times as she felt that warm pressure around her hand.

She turned her head, her neck creaking, to see the Fire Lord sitting in a chair next to her bed. He looked terribly uncomfortable, much too tall for the cramped chair, his legs splayed out underneath him and his head lolling forward a little. His arms were outstretched awkwardly onto her bed, his hands around her hand. She would have thought that he looked endearingly boyish, had she not been so baffled by the sight.

What was he doing there? She wondered, her mind sluggish. What am I doing here?

She tried to withdraw her hand from his, but that only made his fingers tighten around her palm instinctively like a fly trap. He stirred for a moment before jolting away, his amber eyes darting to her swiftly, any remnant of sleep gone. “You’re awake,” he blurted, wide-eyed. “I— How are you feeling? Does it hurt anywhere?” 

She felt his hand squeeze her hand, the pad of his thumb circling her knuckles. Swiftly, Xuan drew back her hand, but the motion sent a pang from her shoulders to her fingertips. “Don’t— You’re still recovering,” Zuko said quickly as he hastily released her hand. 

She grimaced as the ache began to subside. “What happened?” She asked. Her voice came out as a hoarse croak. Xuan frowned, before trying again. “How long have I been out?”

“Two and a half days,” he said, his eyes tracking her carefully. He reached over to the bedside table and poured a glass of water and held it to her lips, tipping it back carefully. “There was an assassin.”

The assassin—his words jogged her memory and she nodded slowly as the events at the tea party caught back up to her. “But my cut was shallow…” She trailed off as she made the connection. “The blade was poisoned.” Zuko nodded, his face grim and haggard. He looked exhausted, Xuan realized, his skin pallor and gray pools shadowing below his eyes. “And the man?”

Zuko hesitated. “He’s dead. We’re still investigating everything.” She nodded, taking in the information silently. He cleared his throat, catching her attention again. “How are you feeling?”

Xuan assessed her body carefully. “I’m starving,” she said after a moment. 

Zuko barked out a startled huff of a laugh, his lips twitching as he rose to his feet. “I’ll have the servants bring a meal,” he said, turning away and moving towards the door before she could question whether or not she had seen his smile correctly, though perhaps the word smile was a bit too generous. At least he’s not scowling , she thought as she settled back against the cot.

When the food arrived, Xuan was mildly disappointed to see that it was a rather bland-looking rice porridge. Zuko took in her clear displeasure with another huff, looking amused. Had she also been hit on the head? She wondered as she took in his relaxed expression. “The Royal Healer said you need to avoid Hot foods, so no heavy spices or oils,” he said, almost apologetically as he lifted the bowl.

She nodded, her stomach grumbling despite her dismay. She reached for the bowl, but her arm seized up with tension again. “Don’t,” he said again. “She also said you shouldn’t use your right arm. She’ll be back soon to wrap it in a sling.”

Xuan flexed her fingers carefully, swallowing back a rise in panic at how difficult it was to move. It reminded her of that time. Perhaps her dream had been an omen. For good measure, she wriggled her toes, and to her relief, she could feel them shift underneath the sheets.

As if sensing her growing alarm, Zuko continued quickly. “She said you should regain full mobility with a bit of rest and training. And she’s the best healer we have in the Fire Nation, trained specially by Katara, so you have nothing to worry about.”

Xuan nodded, falling silent as she took in the news. Rest and training , she repeated inwardly. The panic began to subside. I am strong and I will keep going . She repeated the mantra she had made for herself in her head as she took a steadying breath. “That’s good,” she said finally. 

Zuko was watching her carefully, a glimmer of concern flickering across his face. “Um,” he said, “Would you like to eat?”

She nodded, reaching with her left arm this time, but he shook his head as he raised the spoon. Was he going to feed her? The thought was a little bewildering. “I can use my left hand,” she began, “Double swords, remember?”

“I— Still, let me help,” he insisted firmly, nodding down at the spoon as he averted his gaze. The look of shame and guilt on his face was enough to make her pause. And then she remembered their conversation before she blacked out. He had been furious as he accused her of hitting Lady Zhou. The memory stung her pride, a well of indignation rising up in her as she swallowed back her anger. Don’t be angry. Her father’s words rang in her mind, fresh from the nightmare. She hated that dream. It seemed to haunt her no matter how many years passed, no matter how strong she grew. 

“You’re strong, but you don’t have…” He had said. Xuan closed her eyes, willing herself to hear the ghost of the memory.

What didn’t she have?

I am strong and I will keep going . Xuan took a steadying breath and squared her shoulders. 

“I don’t need your help,” she said evenly.

“You should rest,” he started, his gaze darting to hers. Eyes the color of warm honey, but as cold as amber.

Wordlessly, she took the bowl from him with her left hand.

“I…” Zuko began, looking at a loss for words. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, looking away from her now. “—for accusing you of hitting the High Admiral’s daughter. At… At the time everything had happened quickly and High Admiral Zhou had planned this scheme and so when he told me that, I believed him and…” The words came out in an inelegant rush. “And I apologize for doubting you.”

“An apology has three parts,” her mother had told her and her sisters when they were young. “Acknowledgement, accountability, and amends.”

Zuko had given her two of them—acknowledgement of the situation, accountability in his mistake, but there was nothing for amends. 

The issue remained. He didn’t trust her and as she stared at him, taking in the way he angled his scar away from her, his expression as guarded as ever, it felt less likely that he would ever trust her. But she had known this going in—had expected it—so why did she still feel so disappointed?

Xuan bowed her head politely. “I understand. You should rest, Fire Lord,” she said cordially. She accepted his apology, but she didn’t forgive him. She would not lower her standards for an apology, even if he was the Fire Lord. Xuan was much too proud for that. And much too stubborn.

The Ox , she thought to herself wryly.

He looked a little miserable, if Xuan was being honest, and she couldn’t quite quell the feeling of discomfort as she watched him nod jerkily before leaving her alone in the room.

Chapter Text

Recovery was slow, but steady enough. In the first week, Yumi was a great help in her daily activities, though it helped that Xuan had decent control over her hand. Ty Lee, one of the Kyoshi Warriors, proved to be particularly talented in all matters related to pressure points and chi and took it upon herself to help Xuan with her physical therapy as she slowly regained mobility in her hand. And the Royal Healer checked on her daily and confirmed that she was making progress. Just yesterday, she was able to use her hand to pen a letter to Lady Mirae to confirm that she was indeed unscathed—she didn’t know how the poison in her blood might have affected Lady Mirae if it got on her.

I am strong and I will recover. 

As for Zuko… He kept his distance for the most part, though she occasionally saw him in passing when she walked by his office to get to her room at night. He was always behind his desk, looking haggard enough that Xuan felt a pang of pity, but not enough pity to knock on his door. Her pride was still healing, though she wasn't upset. She just didn't know what else to do.

Xuan was doing her daily stretches for her arm when Yumi burst into the room excitedly. “Fire Lady Xuan,” she greeted in a hasty bow.

“What is it?” Xuan asked, alarmed by the girl’s expression.

“Lady Mirae is hosting a banquet in your honor!” 

Xuan’s alarm grew as she thought back to the tea party. Lady Mirae had been the one to cleverly spearhead the verbal riddles against her. “I see,” she said warily, and then, without pause, “Please decline the invitation.”

Yumi stared at her as if she had grown another head. “But it’s in your honor and it’s your first invitation out to society!”

“I don’t think this will reflect well on the Fire Lady’s image,” Xuan said, grimacing as she tried to imagine herself at the banquet. The tea party had been disastrous enough even before the attempted assassination. A banquet would be much worse. It would be like what Lien and Dao had predicted—she’d get eaten alive by the nobles.

“But my Lady, she’s hosting it to show you gratitude for saving her life,” Yumi said, looking aghast. “You can’t decline it.”

Xuan blinked. “For saving her life?”

“Yes, from the assassin! It’s all the papers are talking about.”

Xuan stared at her. “I didn’t save her life. She wasn’t really in any danger—”

“Even so, you mustn't decline,” Yumi said urgently as she rummaged through Xuan’s dresser. She tugged out one of the dresses Xuan had brought from the Earth Kingdom—it was the dress Dao had given her as a parting gift. “Is this your best dress?”

Xuan nodded and Yumi wasted no time in tugging off Xuan’s sleeping robes. “Is the banquet now?” Xuan asked, incredulous as Yumi drew up the clasps of Dao’s dress with nimble fingers.

“No, but you’ll be going to the seamstress today,” Yumi said. She tugged at the skirt bunched around her waist. “It’s a bit tight here, but she can modify the dress as needed in time for the banquet. And you should look your best going into the city anyways.” 

“We’re going into the city?” Xuan asked, reeling a little at the speed that Yumi was moving at. Yumi expertly twisted her curls back into an intricate half-do and dabbed fragrance oils at the nape of her neck. 

“Yes, though I wish we had more time to get you ready,” Yumi said rather bitterly as she dabbed rouge across her cheeks and lips. “But this will have to do for now.”

Breathlessly, Yumi opened the bedroom door and Xuan followed her down the hallway quickly, still trying to make sense of the situation. She was going into the Imperial City? A sense of excitement filled Xuan as she followed Yumi to the entrance of the Fire Palace. She hadn’t the slightest idea what the Imperial City looked like outside of what she had read in her classes. 

Yumi opened the carriage for her. “The Fire Lady will now enter,” she said, sounding rather formal.

Xuan shot her a weird look before clambering into the carriage inelegantly. She quickly realized why Yumi had sounded so official.

Zuko was sitting inside, his expression unsurprisingly neutral. Xuan straightened, nearly hitting her head on the ceiling of the carriage before she stopped herself and sat down artlessly, her eyes darting to Zuko before she bowed her head politely, just as Lady Hoshin had taught her. “Fire Lord,” she greeted, swallowing back her surprise. They hadn’t properly spoken since she had woken up from the poison’s deep sleep. 

“Fire Lady Xuan,” he said, rising to his feet swiftly and nearly bumping his head on the carriage ceiling. He sat back down promptly, his golden eyes searching. “How… are you feeling?”

“My arm is still recovering, but the Royal Healer has no concerns,” Xuan said and flexed her hand for him to see. 

He nodded, his gaze scanning her carefully though he was still avoiding her gaze. “That’s good.”

“Don’t you think we should decline Lady Mirae’s invitation?”

He grimaced, smoothing his fingers along the fabric of his robes. He was dressed in smart robes, a maroon so dark it was nearly the shade of his hair. His hair was unexpectedly short, Xuan realized. She had seen the portraits of the previous Fire Lords in the Old Colonies—it was a symbol of honor and all the Fire Lords had the same sort of long, silky hair. Zuko's, though, only crept towards the base of his neck.

“I’d like to, but strategically, we need to align with Admiral Mirae, so I’m hoping we can use this to speak with him about the recent demilitarization policies in the south.”

Xuan blinked out of her thoughts as she took in what he was saying. “So you’ll be attending too?”

He looked like he was ready to flee. “Yes,” he said. “It’ll be important for you to uphold your image as Fire Lady and after the tea party—” He stopped abruptly, but Xuan got the message. He would be there to keep her in check.

Uphold my image as Fire Lady, Xuan repeated in her mind. She had no idea what the image was, but given the most recent attempt on her life, she was sure it couldn’t have been good.

“And, um, you’re coming with me to the seamstress as well?”

“Yes,” he said shortly, his gaze turning to the window as the carriage started to move. “I… also need a few things made.” 

“I see,” Xuan said as she followed his gaze. Did he not trust her to go by herself? Perhaps it was a fair concern though, given how her first entrance into society had ended. Even so, it was a small sting to her pride. 

To her surprise, he continued speaking, his gaze darting back to her with unexpected earnestness. “And— I thought it might be nice to leave the Fire Palace.”

Xuan paused, wondering if he was trying to make conversation. “I’m looking forward to the city. I’ve read that it’s beautiful.”

Zuko nodded once, curtly. “Yes,” he said shortly, his gaze flicking back out the window. Maybe he wasn’t trying to make conversation, Xuan decided belatedly as they fell into a silence. She followed his gaze out the window, taking as they entered the Imperial City. They sped past rows and rows of buildings, made of metal and cooled lava. Xuan tried not to gawk, but it was drastically different from the Old Colonies. The buildings looked sophisticated and the streets were bustling with citizens dressed in maroons and dark colors. 

When the carriage rolled to a stop, Xuan had little time to marvel outside before she was quickly ushered inside what looked to be a boutique that had what looked like a wooden dummy in the window, though it looked different from the wooden dummy that soldiers used to train with. This one was dressed in a flashy dress.

A woman stood in the boutique and bowed fully at the waist as they entered. “Greetings to the Royal Family. Fire Lady Xuan—it is my honor to prepare your dress,” the seamstress said. 

“Rina is the most talented seamstress in the Imperial City,” Zuko supplied from behind her. Xuan looked at him in surprise—she would never have thought him to be one in tune with fashion.

Rina dipped her head humbly before smiling at Xuan. “Now, where is the dress we’ll be working with?”

“Ah, this is it,” Xuan said, glancing down at the dress she was wearing.

A heavy silence fell on the room. Xuan watched as both Zuko and the seamstress’s eyes darted to the dress she was wearing. Xuan glanced down at herself self-consciously. She liked Dao’s dress—it was a bit more modern than the traditional robes she had been wearing with its curvier lines and softer, emerald fabric—though she could see why they were hesitating. She was taller than Dao and her body was formed differently from her training, while Dao was well-endowed in the places that Xuan wasn’t. The dress was a bit tight in a few places, and a bit loose in other places. Xuan tugged at the skirt of the emerald dress awkwardly.

Finally, the seamstress spoke up, turning to Zuko. “What do you think, Fire Lord?” She asked carefully.

Xuan turned her gaze to Zuko as well, only to see that he was still staring at her with an unreadable expression. The full weight of his attention was heavy and a bit unnerving. Xuan smoothened her palm against the waist of her dress in an attempt to make it fit better. His eyes tracked the motion intently. “Fire Lord?” 

Zuko’s gaze snapped away as he turned his face away from her entirely. “It’s… fine,” he said gruffly.

Xuan blinked, squinting down at her dress again critically. Is fine good enough? She wondered.

The seamstress chuckled, catching her attention again. “The honeymoon phase,” she said sagely, offering Xuan a look that she didn’t understand. “Your husband is a generous man. If I might speak freely?” Xuan nodded. “I think we could and should surely provide you with a better gown, one that perhaps fits better and is more in line with the current trends. One befitting of the Fire Lady. Let’s start with choosing a fabric.”

Xuan glanced over at Zuko, who had taken a seat on a settee and was studying the upholstery of the chair in great detail. “What do you think?”

“That’s fine,” he said again shortly.

Xuan nodded, stepping forward to look at the rolls of fabric around the room. The walls were lined with shelves and wooden racks, brimming with an impressive array of fabric rolls. Rich, luxurious materials in vibrant hues of crimson, gold, and deep auburn cascaded in neat, color-coordinated rows. Xuan swallowed thickly, overwhelmed. She stared at the seemingly growing array of fabrics in front of her before turning back to Zuko, who was still squinting down at the chair’s detailing. Xuan had no idea what he found so fascinating about it.

“My Lord,” she said. “Will you help me choose?”

His gaze flicked to her and his expression did something funny before it disappeared as he sighed. “I’m not well-versed in fashion trends,” he said, though he stood up and stepped next to her to survey the rows of fabric. 

“I’d say I’m even less experienced in what’s popular in the Fire Nation,” she pointed out to him. “And don’t you need to pick out fabric for your clothes too?” 

Zuko shrugged impassively, though she could see him assess the fabrics in front of them. “I think you’ll look fine in any of these.” There it was, that word again— fine.

“I don’t want to just look fine,” Xuan said, shooting him a look. “You were the one who said it was important to uphold my role as Fire Lady.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Zuko began gruffly, looking irritated before he turned to properly look at the fabric. He squinted at the rolls assessingly before strolling over to a stack. “What about one of these?”

“An excellent choice, Fire Lord,” Rina said. “Those are imported spider silks from the Earth Kingdom.”

“From the Earth Kingdom?” Xuan echoed, running a finger over one of the fabric rolls. It was smooth and cool to the touch. 

“The highest quality fabric we have,” the seamstress said with a nod.

“Good,” Zuko said, pinching the fabric testingly.

Something about her words rang a bell in Xuan’s mind. How was she going to buy this? Zuko had provided her with a budget for the Old Colonies and she hadn’t finished allocating the funds, but she was sure that she didn’t want to blow it all on a roll of fabric. She drew back her hand, turning to the other shelves thoughtfully. “I see,” she said as she peered at another roll. “And where are your more standard fabrics?”

“What’s wrong with this one?” Zuko asked, picking up the roll she had moved away from. Xuan tried to send him a meaningful look, but he was still inspecting the roll. “It’s from the Earth Kingdom.”

“My Lord,” she said, racking her mind for an excuse.

Thankfully, Rina was able to read the tension and she bowed her head politely. “I’ll leave you two some time to peruse and discuss.”

“Is it the color?” Zuko asked, glancing up at her quizzically now. “There are other colors if you don’t like red.”

“No, it’s fine,” she said, grimacing. “I’d just prefer something standard.”

“But she said this was their best fabric.” He picked the strangest things to be stubborn about, Xuan thought to herself. What a fickle man. Just a moment ago, his favorite response had been “It’s fine.”

“It doesn’t have to be made out of their best fabric, just something suitable,” Xuan said. She picked up a less shiny roll at random. “Like this.”

Zuko, seemingly equally as mullish, frowned at her deeply. “The Fire Lady shouldn’t wear something just suitable.”

“Earlier you said my current dress was fine,” Xuan reminded him, careful not to raise her voice for Rina to overhear.

Zuko’s eyes darted over her current dress before he dragged it back up to her face to glare at her. “It is fine, but you could do better,” he said insistently.

Xuan’s cheeks flushed at the sting of his words. Still though, she bouldered forward stubbornly. “I don’t want to blow the budget on a dress,” she said, exasperated at how obstinate he was being.

Zuko stared at her as if she had started airbending. “ What are you talking about?” He asked, bewildered now before realization flickered across his face. He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “You don’t have to worry about that.” She opened her mouth to argue but faltered at the glare he sent her. “It’ll be embarrassing for our image if you showed up in something subpar just because you want to pinch ban.” There it was again, the idea of her image. An unnameable frustration flared in her. She smothered it forcefully as she took a deep breath.

“I have some designs you can try on,” Rina announced from the doorway. “If you’re undecided on fabric, then perhaps we can start with the designs?”

Xuan could feel a dull ache begin to set around her temple as she tried to give the dressmaker a polite smile. “You pick it then, since my tastes are subpar,” she murmured to him under her breath.

“Fine,” Zuko hissed back before stepping forward to go over the different designs with Rina.

Xuan sighed, pinching at the bridge of her nose before she sat down on the settee. Was she really bickering with the Fire Lord? She couldn’t remember the last time she squabbled with someone—it was probably Lien when they were children—but Zuko had a unique way of poking at her pride, especially after how he had accused her unfairly.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she tried to turn her mind elsewhere. She tried to imagine what the banquet might look like—unfriendly stares and insults disguised as riddles. There are worse things to face, she thought to herself, trying to wrack her mind. Like Koh, the Face Stealer . The thought sent a shudder down her spine, effectively dispelling any other worries she was beginning to get about the banquet. Xuan took a deep, steadying breath, her eyes opening at the sound of Zuko and Rina.

Zuko’s face, strangely, was pink as they entered the room. Xuan rose to her feet as Rina bowed to them both. “I’ll have everything delivered to the Fire Palace. Please send a messenger hawk if you need anything else.”

Once they were out of the shop, Xuan turned to him, clearing her throat. I’m more mature than this, she told herself as she straightened. “I’ll repay you for the dress,” she said. 

“There’s no need.”

Xuan bouldered forward. “It may take some time, but I’ll send a letter home—”

“I didn’t agree to give a budget to the Old Colonies for you to use it personally.”

Xuan bristled at the implication. “I have no intention of using that budget for myself. I’ll show you the budget in detail when it’s finished and all of the documentation—”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. It sounded like he was refraining from adding the word, 'idiot,' at the end of his sentence. In a less gruff tone, he added, “Consider it a gift.”

“A gift?” She echoed. 

“Yes, a…” He paused, his gaze darting from her to the buildings around them. “...a belated welcome to the Fire Nation.”

Xuan stared at him for a moment. He was standing in front of her stiffly, his shoulders drawn up and taut. But otherwise, he seemed sincere enough. “Thank you,” she said finally, dipping her head politely. “I’ll wear it well.” Some of the tension seemed to seep out of his shoulders as he nodded once, curtly. “Shall we head back then?”

“Oh. Um, well,” Zuko said. Xuan turned back to look at him, only to see that the tension had returned to his posture as he looked around them, his amber gaze shifting like sand. “We still have time before the carriage comes back. It’s, uh, warm today, but I overheard from some of the attendants that there’s a pastry shop nearby that’s popular. So we can wait there— If you want, of course.” His words came out in a choppy, bumbling rush.

“A pastry shop?” She echoed, enticed but confused.

"Only if you're interested." He must have sensed her hesitation because he quickly added, “The attendant—Yumi—suggested it.”

“Really? Yumi has good taste in desserts,” Xuan murmured dubiously. She could feel her resolve grow thin. “Will it be alright for us to go? I’d like to see the city more, but…”

“It’s perfectly safe,” Zuko cut in firmly, straightening. “I’m a trained bender, of course. And I’m not a swordmaster, but I’m proficient.” 

“I’m not worried about that,” Xuan said quickly. She hadn’t even thought about safety. “I’m also proficient with swords,” she added as an afterthought.

“Oh.” His face went a little pink at his own words as he cleared his throat. “Of course.”

Xuan bit back her smile. He always surprised her with how awkward he was, but she couldn’t say it wasn’t a little endearing. Or at least, she preferred it over his scowls. “I just meant that I’m not sure if I should be seen out in public as Fire Lady yet. We haven’t exactly prepared for it and, well…” I haven’t been introduced to the public as Fire Lady. The wedding had been fast and quiet and folded in with her coronation.

“Unheard of,” Lady Hoshin had said disapprovingly. “Fire Lord Zuko is not one for tradition.”

Zuko fell silent, a funny expression flickering across his face. “Perhaps you’re right,” he said finally. “My uncle had suggested we host some kind of proper introduction, but…”

But my title as Fire Lady is only on paper, Xuan finished his sentence inwardly. And my image isn’t particularly good, apparently . They stared at each other for a beat longer before he cleared his throat, his face setting decisively. 

“Wait here.”

Xuan watched him turn to go back into the dressmaker’s shop. She sighed, her thoughts drifting back to her title. She couldn’t be upset about it—it was what she had come to expect—but she also couldn’t celebrate it either. She pushed the thought out of her mind—she could still help guide the Fire Nation, regardless of whether her title was just a title or not. She would just have to work harder. Improve her image. Uphold her role. Something like that, Xuan thought as she pinched the bridge of her nose. There was still the larger issue that he didn’t trust her, and Xuan had no idea where to start with that, though she still thought the ball was in his court. But maybe that was because her pride was still sore from his accusation.

Zuko emerged from the shop with fabric in his hand. “We can use these,” he said, stepping closer to her. This close, Xuan had to crane her neck back a bit to see him fully. He draped the dark crimson cloth over her head and around her shoulder, his fingers careful as he tucked the ends in securely. When he was done, he took a step back to assess his work.

“Well? Can you tell that I’m the Fire Lady?” She prompted.

His eyes scanned over her intently. “No, though I don’t think the general public will be able to recognize you anyways,” he said, before draping the other fabric over his own head like a hooded shawl. “This is really more for me than you. I think the scar is a bit more identifiable.” His last sentence came out wryly, but when she looked at him, he wasn’t scowling. 

“So you don’t think every citizen has a picture of me on their wall?” Xuan asked light-heartedly.

She watched as the corners of his lips twitched. Progress, she thought, an excited thrill flickering through her. “Perhaps we’ll have to mandate a new law,” he said gruffly before turning away from her. Was that a joke? She grinned a little at his back, taking in the now-familiar slope of his stiff shoulders. “Let’s go—the shop is only a few streets away.”

As they walked, Xuan took in the Imperial City. It was a far cry from what she had expected. Though she had more recently read about the Fire Nation’s culture and cities in her classes with Lady Hoshin, a part of her had still believed what she had heard in the Old Colonies—harsh metal buildings, fire pits, the smell of coal and ash. 

All the Fire Nation buildings and architecture in the Old Colonies had been obtrusive—metal and cold and soulless, likely intentionally so to intimidate the native people. But seeing the capital now, Xuan began to understand that her experience of the Fire Nation in the Old Colonies was a time capsule of a different era that never moved on. 

“Ah, this must be the place.”

They stopped outside of a bustling shop with large glass display cases filled with dozens of golden, flaky pastries and an assortment of buns. A small line wrapped from the door into the road. Even from outside, Xuan could already smell the aroma of freshly baked goods—the rich scent of butter, sugar, and spices filled the air. 

“Wow,” Xuan blurted, impressed.

“It’s popular,” Zuko agreed, sounding strangely pleased before he took a step towards the door.

“Wait, the line—” Xuan began, pointing back towards the street.

He cleared his throat. “Oh. I made a reservation in advance.”

“Oh,” Xuan echoed, surprised. Her hand fell back to her side as he nodded once at her, sharply, before leading her inside. Immediately, Xuan could understand why it was popular—just the smell of the pastries was enough to make her mouth water. As Zuko turned to talk to the hostess, she peered at the glass cases curiously, taking in the intricate designs on the different breads and cakes. It was nothing like what she had ever seen before.

“Do any of them catch your eye?” Zuko murmured to her as they followed the hostess upstairs.

“They all look incredible,” Xuan whispered back as she fell in step with him.

“They’re known for their red bean buns and fire-spiced tea,” Zuko said knowledgeably, his expression was much too serious for the topic they were discussing. “They’re the only shop in the area to import their tea spices from a farm just outside the Imperial City, so it’s fresh. And then it’s brewed in clay pots that were fired at a special temperature by the artisan fire benders.” 

“I see,” Xuan hummed thoughtfully. “You’re very knowledgeable about the tea here.”

“Ah,” Zuko said, shifting his gaze away from her again. “It’s just what I’ve heard.” He cleared his throat. “Plus, my uncle has been into spiced tea recently.”

An alarm went off in her head. “How spicy is spicy? Can tea be that spicy?”

Zuko glanced at her, a glimmer of amusement flickering in his eyes. “We can ask them to dilute it for you.” From his expression, Xuan couldn’t tell if he was making a joke or not, and before she could decipher it, they stopped in front of a sliding door.

The hostess slid open the panel door. “The balcony view, as requested.”

Zuko jerkily gestured to her to sit first and she obliged, just as jerkily. The balcony was small, with only enough space for a table and two chairs. But it was private—Xuan could understand why Zuko had requested it. It must be difficult being so recognizable, she thought as she watched him sit down across from her and tug his makeshift hood closer to his face.

“Honeymoon to the city?” The hostess asked conversationally.

Xuan glanced at Zuko, who had gone pink under his makeshift hood. “Yes,” she answered after a beat.

“Well, welcome to the Imperial City,” she said warmly before bowing. “I’ll return soon with the desserts you had requested.” When the paneled door slid close behind her, a few beats of silence followed as Xuan and Zuko stared back at each other. Dimly, Xuan realized that this was the most time they had spent together—outside of the carriage ride from the wedding back to the Fire Palace, where she had been asleep for most of it. Or when she had been recovering from the poison, where she had also been asleep for most of it.

Zuko glanced away first as he smoothed his hand over the worn table. “This doesn’t make for a very good honeymoon,” he muttered to himself, frowning. Xuan wasn’t sure if he was frowning at her or himself. Or if it was a joke or not. It was hard to tell with him.

“I like it,” Xuan said with a shrug as she glanced around them. The balcony was small, but it gave a great view of the street below. She watched an old man vigorously selling cabbages on the side of the road. “And you told me not to expect too much,” she said, more as an afterthought than anything.

Zuko’s gaze snagged onto hers, his gold eyes round and clearly startled before his face went pink again. He was so painfully pale normally that any hint of a flush seemed to show up immediately. His mouth opened and closed. “Well, I— Er, I hadn’t expected—” He started before exhaling a hasty breath.

Xuan decided to spare him. “I was just teasing,” she said, biting back what felt like a vicious grin. It was surprisingly nice to see him caught off guard, the feeling similar to outmaneuvering a sparring opponent. “Though that was the first thing you said to me.”

Zuko scrubbed a hand over his face. “Yes, I did say that,” he said finally, his expression doing something funny before he trained his gaze out at the view, effectively hiding his scar again. 

Even so, they were so close that if Xuan just nudged her leg out a little further, her knee would brush against his. But Xuan was sure that if that happened, he’d probably jump so swiftly that the table would be knocked over. Inwardly, she grimaced at the memory of their first night. She tried to push the disdain on his face out of her mind. Slow progress, she thought to herself, tugging at the sleeve of her dress. A commander never won the trust of their soldiers overnight.

“Do you go into the city a lot?” She tried for conversation.

He winced. “I haven’t been in a few months,” he said, scratching his jaw. “It was for a diplomacy meeting.”

“Maybe we’ll have to make more trips into the city,” Xuan said vaguely. Slow progress.

He nodded carefully, his expression unreadable as he looked at her. “And what do you think of the city?”

“It’s different from what I imagined. From the stories we heard in the Old Colonies,” Xuan admitted plainly, glancing back out the balcony. “But I can see why you’re so dedicated. It’s a beautiful place to call your home.”

For a moment, a flicker of a smile flashed across his face, faint and impossibly tiny, but unmistakably bright. He always looked so sullen that even this small change was a remarkable difference. Xuan wished she could see it better in the depths of his makeshift hood, but before she could peer at him closer, he nodded, turning his face away from her again.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said, his voice as stiff and formal as ever, but Xuan paid it no attention as she watched his shoulders relax. And then his gaze darted to hers, golden like the vestiges of a melting sun, unexpectedly warm and strong. “It’s your home now too.” 

Xuan stared at him, breath stuck in her throat like a fish bone—whether at his words or his gaze, she wasn’t sure. Progress, she thought distractedly as she warmed under his gaze.

Chapter Text

“I’m not very skilled at conversation,” she murmured to him urgently.

Zuko tried not to stare at how the silky fabric draped off her hips like water or how the wide sleeves rippled around her wrists like dancing flames each time she moved her arms or how the flared gown swayed at her feet with each step. In fact, Zuko tried not to look at her all.

“Huh?” He said inelegantly as he kept his gaze perfectly forward towards the large garden they were walking through. The Mirae family home was expectedly grand—more of a small castle than a house—with an equally grand courtyard and koi pond to match. Zuko focused his attention on the well-maintained bonsai with great interest and when he caught a flash of the gold silk of Xuan’s dress, he turned to inspect the layout of the stones in the rock garden in painstaking detail. Very artful , he thought to himself as he turned away from her. 

“I said, I’m not very skilled at conversation,” she said again, sounding matter-of-factly, rather than distressed—like he was feeling.

Likely better than I am , Zuko wanted to say but instead sighed for the both of them as they moved up the stone path leading to the courtyard. He could see the dim light of the lanterns ahead and hear the soft melody of the erhu.

“We’ll stay just as long as we need to,” he murmured back to her, though he wasn’t sure if his words were supposed to be a solace for her or for himself. Outside of being busy with his Firelord duties, there was another reason that Zuko had declined every invitation to any remotely social gathering or banquet. He really was not good at talking to people. 

He couldn’t tell if his words were well-received or not—because he still wasn’t looking at her—but fortunately before she could respond, a figure bowed in front of them.

“Fire Lord Zuko and Fire Lady Xuan,” Lady Mirae said as she rose from her deep bow. “It is my honor to host you.”

“Thank you for hosting,” Zuko said automatically, years of Lady Hoshin’s etiquette lessons in him like muscle memory. Next to him, Xuan inclined her head politely.

“Your dress is lovely,” Lady Mirae said, turning to Xuan. “The color is very distinct.”

Zuko wasn’t sure if ‘distinct’ was a compliment or not and before he could think better of it, he found that he was already saying, “It’s made for the spring.”

Immediately, he could feel Xuan’s eyes slide over to him questioningly. Immediately, he clamped his mouth shut. Immediately, he could feel a headache coming on. The feeling was not unlike the feeling he had gotten when he had purchased the dress in the first place.

It had been a headache-inducing conversation with the seamstress when he had been choosing the design for the dress. First, it had been difficult enough to pick a suitable design. In the end, he hadn’t picked one at all, but instead, three dresses. She was always wearing those heavyset Earth Kingdom robes, he had reasoned to himself as he inspected the light layers of the first design, and she always looked to be too warm and uncomfortable. He would just offer her a few options and whether or not she accepted them was out of his hands, he thought as he chose a few other designs. 

“I think a darker color like this would suit her well,” Rina said, handing him a deep scarlet silk. 

He nodded thoughtfully before another swath of fabric caught his eye. “What about this one?”

“That’s good too,” Rina said, before hesitating. “Though it may look out of season by the time the dresses are finished.”

He peered back down at the dark gold silk critically. It reminded him of some mix of the dark honeyed brown of her eyes and her tawny skin. I think it would suit her , he had thought absently as he tried to conjure up an image of her in his mind.

Xuan was fairly tall, her neck long and her shoulders sloped to a frustratingly straight posture. It had been hard to tell initially under all the thick fabrics she normally wore, but in her sister’s less traditional dress, it became uncomfortably apparent to Zuko that Xuan had a trim waist and well-shaped legs. Promising hips for child-bearing , Lady Hoshin had informed him, much to his mortification. The memory jolted him out of his stupor, something like hot shame and boorish guilt flaring in him as he took a shallow breath. 

“Yes,” he said belatedly, his throat dry as paper. He pushed the fabric back to the seamstress. “I want a light dress made in that gold.”

“Are you sure?” Rina asked, peering down at the fabric again critically. “The fabric and color is better suited for the spring.”

“She can wear it next spring then,” Zuko said, tearing his gaze away from it. 

“Ah, next spring, of course,” Rina said after a beat before beaming. “Good choice, my Lord. You have a keen eye for this, I think these will suit the Fire Lady wonderfully. Will there be anything else?”

He shook his head sharply, glancing back out into the other room. Xuan was sitting on the settee, her eyes closed. Whether in sleep or meditation, he wasn’t sure. He bit back a snort as he watched her open her eyes with a start.

“Fire Lord Zuko, if I may speak freely?”

He nodded warily, turning back to look at the seamstress.

“What you’ve purchased today is only the beginning,” Rina began knowledgeably. “There’s a different joy in giving gifts to the one you love, the joy of dressing up your wife.”

Zuko felt his face heat up despite himself. With the way Xuan had insisted on paying him back, Zuko was sure that she wouldn’t accept anything further. Even with the two additional dresses, he was already anticipating how he would have to have one of the attendants slip it into her closet. “I see,” he said shortly.

“And when you begin to understand that joy, please come back to my shop!” Rina chirped brightly.

“Ah, the spring,” Lady Mirae echoed, eyes glinting as she studied Xuan in the gold dress. Zuko wasn’t sure if he understood the joy that the seamstress had referenced—seeing Xuan in the dress just made him feel skittish. “How farsighted. I can already tell you’ll be starting new trends for the Fire Nation. The color suits you well.”

Despite himself, he glanced over at her automatically to assess Lady Mirae’s statement. Zuko had been regrettably correct in his prediction that the gold would suit her well. The dress looked like it had been cut from the setting sun, warm against the honey of her skin. 

“Thank you,” Xuan said politely, though she shot Zuko a bewildered look. He looked away from her again swiftly.

“Ah! Let me get you some refreshments,” Lady Mirae exclaimed, clasping her hands together. “The plum wine just arrived from Hing Wa Island—it’s a delight.” In a whirl of fabric, the socialite stepped away swiftly back towards the inner courtyard. 

“They’re always talking about my clothes,” Xuan murmured, frowning down at her dress.

Zuko straightened in alarm at the obvious puzzlement in her voice. “I think you look fine,” he said swiftly before he could think better of it.

He had missed his opportunity earlier to compliment her when they had first met at the carriage to go to the Mirae’s home—he had been too startled that she had chosen to wear the gold dress over the other ones to say anything, and by the time his mind caught up, it felt like it was too late to say anything. Zuko had always had a high tolerance to heat—undoubtedly a trait of firebending—but he had felt unbearably warm in the carriage ride as he sat across from her. He had been sure he was going to start sweating through his robes.

Xuan’s gaze turned to him, her expression doing something funny, and he found that he wished he hadn’t said anything at all. “Fine,” she echoed, brows furrowing. 

He grimaced. He had all this time to think of a compliment, and he still didn’t have anything better to say? “The dress is…” Zuko paused, wracking his mind for the right word. “...Agreeable,” he settled on delicately.

To his surprise, she barked out a short laugh. “Isn’t that self-praise since you chose it?” He didn’t know whether to laugh or scowl, but luckily, she continued before he could figure it out. “Thank you, by the way,” she said, smoothening her hand along the skirt of her dress. Zuko followed the motion distractedly. “I’ll wear it well.”

“You’re already wearing it well,” he said automatically, too distracted by the way the fabric slipped under her fingers to think the better of it.

“Oh,” Xuan said, it was the pleased sound she made that made him realize what he had said. “Thank you.” They stared at each other, pink-cheeked.

Zuko opened his mouth to say something—what exactly, he wasn’t sure—but fortunately before he could, Lady Mirae was back with two glasses. “The finest plum wine, as promised,” she said.

Zuko tore his gaze away from Xuan reluctantly to glance down at the wine in his hand. He had never been very good at drinking. The last time Sokka had visited, he had brought some kind of cactus juice liquor and Zuko had woken up with a splitting headache and no memory of why he was sleeping by the turtle duck pond. Next to him though, Xuan took a sip without much hesitation, her face brightening. “It’s sweet,” she said, sounding surprised.

“Hing Wa has the best plums,” Lady Mirae said, looking pleased. She turned to Zuko. “I’d like to introduce Fire Lady Xuan to a few friends.”

“Of course,” he said with an unexpected reluctance. If Xuan left, that meant that he’d be alone to fend for himself. Grow up , he thought to himself harshly. It’s not like this is your first outing . Only, it sort of was his first outing since before his exile, really. 

Next to him, he could feel Xuan’s questioning gaze on him. He gave her a glance that seemed to last a long time before she dipped her chin imperceptibly back at him.

He had no idea what they were trying to communicate to each other.

Lady Mirae seemed to get the wrong impression though, because she gave him a knowing smile, wide and sagely. “It’ll only be for a moment.”

Xuan nodded once curtly to him, her shoulders setting into a familiar posture that he was beginning to recognize, before she turned to follow Lady Mirae. Despite her relatively calm expression, she looked like she was going into war. Zuko watched her retreating figure for a moment longer before it became very apparent that he was not going to have much of a moment alone at all, even with Xuan gone. 

“Fire Lord Zuko,” a voice boomed immediately from behind him. The koi sharks lying in wait , he thought grimly to himself as he turned to recognize a group of the rising businessmen from the Imperial City. “It’s a pleasant surprise to see you in attendance—”

And such was much of the conversation that he was dragged into for what felt like a dreadful majority of the evening. Conversation came from left and right, politely, but pointedly recognizing that they were surprised to see him there and a few awkward wedding congratulations, coupled uncomfortably with a half-joke of wishing that they had been able to introduce their daughter, or their sister, or someone vaguely related to them to Zuko before he had decided to wed. 

“Perhaps it’s not too late,” one of the bolder noblemen said hopefully. “It’s normal for the Fire Lord to have a concubine or two. My niece is—” And then he had stopped, undoubtedly because of Zuko’s expression and because the lanterns behind him flared so hotly that the wooden frames burned.

Each conversation sputtered to a similar end swiftly, either because of Zuko's terse responses or even terser expressions. And though he knew he was not doing a very good job, a part of him justified it easily. How could they dare question the legitimacy of the Fire Lady?

He had come to keep an eye on Xuan—but she was still gone—and to speak to Admiral Mirae about their strategies for the south and the recent skirmishes with the Domestic Forces in the Imperial City—Admiral Mirae was also nowhere to be seen, and it seemed that none of the other people he had been forced to converse with were interested in talking about demilitarization policies. There was also the issue of the unrest in the outside villages and islands that weren’t close to the Imperial City. Zuko sighed at the reminder. It was growing into an issue that he couldn’t put aside anymore and he had hoped that there would at least be an ambassador from one of the villages there.

But instead, it seemed that all conversation revolved around his marital status. Part of the reason why he had gotten married in the first place was to put these suitress requests to a firm end, but it seemed that his marriage did little to quell the fire. 

By the fourth or fifth conversation, Zuko could practically feel the tense cloud of a bad mood hanging over him, and he was sure that anyone nearby could see it too—or at least, his quickly souring expression—because eventually, he stopped getting approached. 

Zuko stood off to the side under the guise of admiring the koi pond, relieved for a moment of quiet. He felt exhausted. He watched a white and orange fish cut through the water underneath the reflection of the moon and wondered if he had made a mistake in attending.

“You’re attending?” Xuan had asked in clear surprise.

Of course, he wanted to say. Admittedly, he had been nervous about Xuan’s attendance at the banquet. Though it hadn’t been her fault, her first debut into society with the tea party hadn’t gone smoothly. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Xuan—well, he didn’t trust Xuan, but that wasn’t the primary reason—but after the tea party, he wasn’t sure if he could take it on his conscience if there was another attempt on her life. The memory of her lying pale-faced in the healer’s room still made his blood run cold.

Instead, he had said, “Yes, it’ll be a good opportunity to speak with Admiral Mirae.”

Now though, Zuko had a sinking feeling that he was doing more damage than good. Which was worse given that he didn’t have an exactly spotless reputation—banished prince and all. Well, at least I can keep an eye on her in case there are any other attempts , he thought to himself, glancing up from the koi pond to look around the courtyard.

Finally, he found her again, dress glinting under the lantern light. It really was a good color, he thought distractedly as he watched. She seemed to be regaling the ladies, her face bright and her motions lively. He huffed a laugh into his cup. She seemed to be doing fine on her own, he thought enviously as he turned to watch her fully now. “So much for not being skilled at conversation,” he murmured to himself as he watched the ladies around her break into laughter. Something that wasn’t envy filled his chest as he watched, something warm and uncomfortable, like a hot gust of wind on a summer day.

“I had doubts,” a voice next to him said. Zuko tried not to scowl—his moment of peace had been short-lived. He turned to see Lady Mirae watching him closely before her gaze followed his back to Xuan. “If I may speak freely, Fire Lord?”

“It seems that you already are,” he said wryly, not looking to invite more conversation. Lady Mirae either didn’t get the hint or didn’t care—it was likely the latter, given that she was a skilled socialite.

“I had my doubts about both you and the Fire Lady,” she began again.

“What you are saying is treason,” he warned her warily, though even he knew that there was no edge to his voice.

She nodded. “Yes, but I believe that would make most of the noble families treasonous. In any case, I’m saying this now to admit that I was wrong. And I’m not saying that only because Fire Lady Xuan saved my life.”

“Then why are you saying this?” He asked, feeling both wary and curious all at once.

“Though her background may be… unconventional, it’s all the more impressive to me that she’s willing to forgo it for the sake of peace. I was harsh on Fire Lady Xuan during the tea party, and yet she held nothing against me,” Lady Mirae said carefully. “She even wrote to me after to confirm my health and it made me reflect on my actions.”

Zuko jolted in surprise at this—Xuan had said nothing of the matter to him. Well, they hadn’t exactly spoken much since he had unfairly accused her. Their day in the Imperial City had been a good step, but even then Zuko could sense the underlying tension between them.

“I can respect her sincerity now that I’ve seen it. And I’d say the others are quite taken by it as well.” Lady Mirae observed, turning her attention back to Xuan. Zuko followed her gaze to see that Xuan was motioning animatedly with her hands, clearly demonstrating some kind of striking motion. “Before, it had sounded like a far-fetched dream, but my husband and I now can begin to understand this era of peace you wish to bring to the Fire Nation. You have my family’s support, Fire Lord Zuko.”

Moved, Zuko didn’t know what to say to this promise of trust, so he opted to say nothing at all and instead dipped his head. In retrospect, he had never had much of a supporter in the Fire Palace outside of his uncle and to hear it so plainly spoken, something like tentative hope spread in his chest, like a match lit on fire. 

“Of course, we’ll have to put in the work,” Lady Mirae continued.

“Of course,” he echoed, eyes still trained on Xuan.

“You would do well to keep her close,” Lady Mirae said enigmatically.

“Is that a threat?” Zuko kept his expression cool, though he could feel a spike of irritation at her brazen words.

“No,” Lady Mirae said mildly. “Just advice from a happily married wife.” Without waiting for a response, she arched a brow at him. “Shall we join their conversation? It seems to be picking up.”

Irritated that it felt like he had lost whatever verbal battle they were having, Zuko brushed past her, leading the way back to Xuan.

“Our troops were experienced with fighting during the monsoon and we knew the signs of the afternoon thunderstorm, so we waited until late afternoon to ambush the other troops—” Xuan was saying proudly. “We hid at the crests of the valley—” She moved a few glasses on the table around. It seemed that she had used their glasses and napkins as some kind of makeshift map. The ladies crowded around the table, their gaze flickering between her motions and her face with earnest focus. “—and when the rain hit, we used the mudslide to our advantage.”

“How strategic,” one of the ladies murmured thoughtfully from behind her fan.

There was a pleased flush to Xuan’s cheeks as she straightened and took a breath, undoubtedly to continue her story, when her gaze caught sight of him nearing her. He tried not to think about how her smile briefly faltered when she saw him. Zuko realized that he was still frowning from his interaction with Lady Mirae and all the previous interactions. He softened his expression quickly, but it was too late because her gaze became searching and concerned as she peered at him through the crowd of ladies around her.

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” she said distractedly, sidestepping her way out of the crowd towards him. A traitorous thrill of pleasure shot through him, though it quickly dissipated at the sound of Lady Mirae’s amused chuckle from behind him.

“It appears that the rumors that the Fire Lord having a coal heart is false,” Lady Mirae murmured unsubtly. The socialite had timed her comment perfectly right before Xuan reached them so he couldn’t retort. Despite himself, he could feel his frown return at full force.

“Is everything alright?” Xuan asked, looking concerned.

Zuko cleared his throat, nodding as he tried not to glare at Lady Mirae. “Of course,” he said.

“We were just chatting,” Lady Mirae said. She dipped her head politely to them. “May you have a long and happy marriage, Fire Lord Zuko.” With that, she gave him another knowing smile before leaving them alone.

He kept his expression carefully neutral, stepping forward to nod over at the arrangement on the table. “What’s all this?”

“Ah, I got a bit carried away,” she said, looking sheepish. “You know what they say, ‘When a soldier recounts their battles, their stories flow like a river with no end in sight.’”

“You sound like my uncle,” Zuko huffed a soft laugh, something warm stirring in chest. “Your audience doesn’t seem to mind though,” he observed, glancing back at the group of noblewomen. They were discussing different strategies, as though the glasses and napkins on the table were Pai Sho pieces.

“My sisters used to beg me to stop recounting stories whenever we had a banquet,” she agreed, eyes bright. 

Zuko smiled a little at the thought. “You haven’t told me any,” he said, though it came out a little more sullen than he had intended.

She glanced at him, surprised. “You may regret saying that,” she said lightly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a small crowd edging closer to them. “Do you want to take a stroll?” He asked quickly, nodding towards the small grove of bonsai.

Xuan, observant as ever, followed his gaze towards the other banquet-goers that were closing in on them. She nodded, falling in step with him as they moved towards the stone path to the grove, the sound of the erhu and crowd drifting towards silence as they escaped.

Zuko broke the silence first. “You seemed to have success with the ladies.”

“I’m glad—I was pretty nervous seeing them again,” Xuan admitted. “Some of the noblewomen mentioned that this was your first attendance.”

“I’m not a big fan of… socializing,” Zuko said vaguely.

A soft huff of a laugh and then a pause. “Were you able to speak with Admiral Mirae?”

He grimaced. “No, I was fighting off the others.”

Xuan fell silent for a moment. Suddenly, she stepped in front of him, her shoulders set. “If I may speak freely?”

That seemed to be the question that everyone liked to ask him recently, and he should have learned by now to say no, but with Xuan’s determined expression, he nodded weakly. “Of course.”

She took a deep breath. “You didn't have to come. I know you… don’t trust me, but you don’t have to monitor me like this. I won’t cause any trouble.” She was frowning at him, looking earnest, but displeased.

“It’s not that,” he started defensively, before pausing. “Well, I did come to monitor you, but— I just wanted to make sure that if there was another assassination attempt, that I’d be…” He trailed off, before finishing lamely, gesturing at her, “Here.”

Her hand flew to her shoulder instinctively and Zuko felt that uncomfortable twinge of guilt again as the memory of her bloodied robes flashed in his mind again. And then his yelling. And then the way her expression had shuttered close.

“Oh,” Xuan made a soft sound, blinking up at him owlishly, any displeasure on her face seeming to nullify. Now, she just looked perplexed.

You would do well to keep her close . Lady Mirae’s words rang in his ears. Just advice from a happily married wife.

He wondered if Xuan was happy. The thought made something uncomfortable shift in his gut. He couldn’t see how she could be. She was in a stuffy palace under the scrutiny of everyone’s eye, far away from everything she had ever called home. And Zuko had no delusions about his personality and what little he had to offer her outside of aid to her people.

Ember Island. She’ll be happier on Ember Island , he thought distractedly as she twisted a shiny curl back behind her ear.

Instead though, some traitorous part of him stirred awake, the same traitorous part that had driven him half-mad with senseless panic after she had dismissed him from the healer’s wing. That traitorous part of him had hoped that perhaps a dress would salvage the fragile air between them—his father had always given his mother a new dress whenever they got into a terrible spat—but he realized belatedly that his father was not exactly the paragon of love. He had then hoped that some time together might help their relations, given that she seemed to make herself scarce around the Palace now, and though she seemed to have relaxed a bit while they were at the pastry shop, there had undoubtedly been a layer of reservation that hadn’t been there before. Really, he shouldn’t have cared since he was going to send her off to Ember Island anyways.

But it was that traitorous part of him that spoke up first.

“You… You were right when you said that I don’t trust you,” Zuko began, hurriedly continuing at the unimpressed arch of her brow. “It’s not because you’re from the Earth Kingdom. But it’s because… it’s always been difficult for me to.”

At Xuan’s silence, Zuko continued, his nerves growing. “My last— well, er, only girlfriend broke up with me because I didn’t trust her. Mai said I loved my secrets more than her— And it’s not that I love secrets or anything, I just couldn’t… Um. Open up. Well, her father was also plotting against me with the New Ozai Society, but that’s besides the point. Um— I guess what I’m trying to say is that I hope you will understand that it will take some time, but I… I want to try.”

Her stare was unnerving, Zuko thought, as he tried not to wilt under it. It felt like she was seeing right through him, her gaze clear-eyed and even. He grimaced inwardly—why did he have to go on talking about Mai? What kind of wife would want to hear about his past girlfriend, and even worse, how his personality had been the cause of their break up? Even so, he waited with bated breath as she looked at him assessingly.

“I’m a patient person,” she said finally, the corner of her lips curving up slightly. More solemnly, she added, “I appreciate that you told me this.”

The tension seeped out of his shoulders at her words. “Oh. Uh. That’s good. I’m glad.” Zuko said, finally glancing away from her. He couldn’t take the way she seemed to see right through him. “There’s one more thing,” he said, remembering the one idea that he had been turning over and over in his mind for the past week. He cleared his throat. “The Avatar and the others will be visiting soon— Would you like to join our meetings?” It was an extension of peace, a show of good faith that he was going to try to trust her. He hoped she would accept—

“ Really ?” She blurted, eyes shining. Her face brightened noticeably as she straightened to look at him.

He blinked at her dumbly. “If you’d like—”

“It’d be an honor,” she said eagerly.

“Consider it done then,” Zuko murmured, taking in her enthusiasm with satisfaction. It felt like they had created a fragile peace between them. Had he known she was going to react so positively to this, he would have asked in the beginning. 

Chapter Text

By the time Zuko made it to the entrance of the palace, he was surprised to see that Xuan was already there. He paused by the pillar of the entryway’s grand arches, taking in her straight posture as she stared into the distance.

It seemed that with each week that passed, Xuan began to look more and more the part of Fire Lady, Zuko thought to himself as he took in the way her black hair had been intricately pinned back to reveal the long slope of her neck. It seemed that the attendant had taken extra care in preparing her appearance today, he thought. There was something inexplicably brighter about her that he couldn’t quite place his finger on. Against the light of the setting sun beyond the palace walls, her skin was a golden tawny. Zuko would have peered at her closer to try to name what it was that had changed about her had she not shifted her attention to him.

“Fire Lord,” she greeted politely with a bow of her head.

“Fire Lady,” he nodded in acknowledgment as he turned his focus to the steps of the palace where she had been looking. 

“Do I look the part?”

Zuko tried not to start as he kept his gaze perfectly trained on the base of the stairs. “Yes,” he said, swallowing thickly.

She snorted a little in amusement at his response. “You didn’t even look at me,” she grumbled, though there was no edge to her voice. Before he could deny it—though he wasn’t sure how he would without admitting that he had been watching her—she continued.“I—” She began, words uncharacteristically choppy, “What should I say to them?”

“What should you say?” Zuko echoed, puzzled. In the horizon, he could spot the familiar shape drifting towards them at a speed too quick to be a cloud.

“I mean, to the Avatar and—”

Zuko glanced at her in surprise. She was drawn up to her full height, her back knife-straight and shoulders pulled back. Tension rolled off her in waves. “You’re nervous,” he observed unhelpfully, gaze lingering on the way she was wringing her hands together. Xuan stilled her hands quickly as she smoothened down the skirt of her robes, which proved to be equally distracting. Zuko dragged his gaze back up to her face.

“Of course,” she said promptly, brows knitting together. “It’s the Avatar,” she said again. “And Ambassador Katara and Sokka and Master Toph!” Xuan seemed to be working herself into some kind of tizzy, her stress becoming more and more palpable.

“Relax,” Zuko said. “They’re just normal—”

“Flameo hotman!” A familiar voice called out from the bottom of the steps.

Zuko grimaced at the greeting. “How many times do I have to tell you that that’s not actual slang here,” he began as he moved to greet his friends. Before he could though, he felt a tug at his sleeve hold him back. Xuan’s hand had darted out to grasp at the wide sleeves of his robes. He paused, turning to look at her searchingly.

“I… What should I say or do?” She hissed, looking visibly panicked. Her knuckles brushed against his, and it was as if she transferred her panic to him because his chest seized up.

Zuko blinked down at her distress. “Just act normally,” he said unhelpfully. “They’re nice people.”

“I hope they like me,” she murmured, seemingly to herself as she took a deep breath. 

Zuko’s brow shot up. “Why would you care if they like you?” He asked, but before she could respond, another familiar voice cut in.

“It always catches me off guard to see your hair this length,” Sokka’s cheerful voice called from in front of them. “I always expect the Fire Lord locks.”

“You should’ve gotten used to it by now,” Zuko complained, though there was no edge to his voice as he stepped forward to clasp a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“It’s better than that topknot you used to have,” Katara pointed out, grinning as she reached over to give Zuko a hug. 

“Looks the same to me,” Toph said without missing a beat. 

“It’s good to see you all,” Zuko said sincerely, smiling despite himself. It had been over a year now since they’ve all come together—it seemed that the older they got, the more responsibilities piled up on all of them, and that was after saving the world.

“It’s been too long,” Aang agreed, his gaze flickering behind him. 

“It seems a lot has changed around here,” Sokka added, not bothering to hide his stare. “You’ll have to get us up all to speed.”

“Well, everyone,” Zuko began, his words stilted. He was keenly aware of their pointed focus on Xuan behind him. And even more keenly aware of her hand clasped around the sleeve of his robe. He wondered distractedly if he should hold her hand instead, but her attention seemed to have narrowed to focus on the four travelers in front of them. Zuko stood still instead, conscious everytime her knuckles skimmed against his. He could practically feel the nerves rolling off of her in waves. 

“This is… my wife,” Zuko said choppily, the word clumsy on his tongue. Even so, a thrill shot through him as he said it. Wife , he thought. Perhaps he should have just introduced her as the Fire Lady. But she was his wife. But they had never really talked about it before… Did that make her uncomfortable? He turned to look at her searchingly before a wave of relief washed over him.

She was staring wide-eyed at his friends, looking rather starstruck. She’s as delighted as a child at a Fire Lily Festival , he realized, biting back an amused smile. Carefully, he pulled gently at the sleeve in her grip, twisting his arm back enough to take hold of her fingers to beckon her forward. Xuan lurched forward towards him as if remembering how to walk, her hand taking hold of his entirely like it was a lifeline. Zuko stilled, his worldview seeming to narrow to this point of contact. Her hand was rough in his, marked with callouses that Zuko was used to seeing on his own hands from years of training. Her skin was cool to the touch. The realization brought the unwelcome thought that his hand was growing sweaty, so he held his hand perfectly still and stiff.

He was so distracted by this train of thought that he nearly missed it when she straightened, her shoulders set as she pulled her shoulders and chin up in a familiar stance of stubborn determination. “I’m Xuan,” she said, as she bent to bow fully at the waist, the movement so swift and sharp that a tendril of her hair fell from its pinup. “It’s an honor to meet you all.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Aang spoke up, looking amused as his gaze flickered to Zuko. “We’re all pretty casual.”

Zuko could feel her hand relax in his as she straightened from her bow, looking earnest as she turned to look at each of the four. “Even so, you all were a great inspiration to my people. We are forever in debt to your service.” 

“ You’re the real inspiration,” Sokka started. Zuko could already tell he was going to be annoyed by his next words with the way Sokka turned to him, grinning slyly. “Not many people can take on being married to this guy.”

“Speaking of your marriage,” Katara cut in, shooting Zuko a look. He winced, already knowing where she was headed. He had been dreading it. “La! Imagine our surprise when we heard through the newspaper that the Fire Lord had a wedding. You didn’t even tell us, let alone invite us!”

Zuko grimaced, a wave of embarrassment washing over him. “It happened quickly,” he said lamely, his gaze darting over to Xuan for her reaction. But she was already looking at him, her brown eyes almost accusatory before she looked away, her mouth twitching down into a frown. Much to Zuko’s relief and chagrin, she released his hand from hers. With the absence of her hand, Zuko’s fingers curled into a fist hidden in his sleeves. Zuko felt a pang of regret in his chest as he watched her nod in agreement. 

“It was a fast decision,” she agreed. She didn’t look at him even as she defended him. It made something in him wince. “There was only my family there and a few advisors.”

“Well, we’ll have a lot of time to get to know you now,” Katara said kindly to Xuan, before shooting Zuko an unimpressed look. 

“You lot might not know her, but I do,” Toph said smoothly to diffuse the growing tension. 

“Master Toph,” Xuan all-but-gaped, clearly about to bow again when the earthbender put up her hand. “Have we met before?”

“Your father was regarded as a folk hero, even in Gaoling,” Toph said, looking amused. “You may not have been out beyond the colonies, but news of your swordsmanship has been in the papers in the Earth Kingdom ever since I was a child.” 

A steady pink flush spread across Xuan’s face. Zuko stared at her dumbly, not quite believing his eyes as he watched her duck her head, her lips lifted into a small smile that could only be described as bashful. Zuko tried not to do a double take as he watched her blush. He could feel his own flush begin to creep up his neck as he watched her, something uncomfortable expanding behind his ribs until his chest was tight. It must have been irritation, he thought. She had only just met Toph a few minutes ago and she was already smiling like a fool? All it took was a few compliments? Zuko tried not to glare.

“It’s an honor,” she said again, looking pleased and embarrassed all at once. Zuko, for the first time, was sick of hearing the word ‘honor.’

Toph smiled, clearly amused at her response and the effect she was having on her. “We’ll have to spar sometime.”

“It would be an honor,” Xuan stammered again, her face splitting into an even more delighted smile. It was hard to look away. He could feel Aang staring at him, so he turned away sharply, his gaze settling on the fluffy animal at the bottom of the steps.

“Aang, we’ve prepared the stables for Appa,” he said to the Avatar distractedly.

At the mention, Xuan’s head snapped towards the flying bison so quickly that Zuko was briefly worried for her neck. “Is that Appa ?” She asked excitedly, eyes somehow even wider than before. “I’ve only ever seen drawings of sky bison.”

“The one and only,” Aang chirped cheerfully, taking in her thrilled expression with clear appreciation. “Do you want to pet him?”

“Is it really alright?” She asked, her gaze darting distractedly from Appa to Aang though her feet were already taking her forward.

“Yeah, Appa loves pets. I bet you’ll get tired of them before he does…” 

Zuko watched as Aang followed Xuan down the steps towards Appa. He huffed a laugh as he watched her take the steps down, two at a time.

“She’s sweet,” Katara commented, smiling as she followed his gaze. “Even prettier than the drawings in the paper where we all found out about your marriage.” The second sentence came out more accusatory. “You should have at least told us.”

“It’s complicated,” Zuko grunted in response, tearing his gaze away to jerk his head in the direction of the palace. “The servants have prepared your normal rooms. You can freshen up before dinner.”

“Fine,” Katara sighed before shooting him another firm look. He pretended not to see it. In truth, Katara still scared him a little. “We’ll have plenty of time to hear about the wedding later.”

“You might have some competition though,” Sokka observed, nodding down at Appa. Zuko resisted rolling his eyes as the others went into the palace. He turned his attention back down to see Xuan grinning ear to ear as she practically hugged the bison. It was the lightest expression he had seen on her face. His chest felt tight again as he moved down the stairs towards them.

“So he likes to eat fruit,” Xuan was saying as he neared them. White tufts of Appa’s fur clung to her robes and hair.

“Plants, hay, and fruits. He’s a big fan of watermelon,” Aang nodded.

“Watermelon,” she echoed, as if committing it to memory. When she noticed Zuko, she turned to him, her expression bright. “Do you think we could get some watermelons from the kitchen for him later?”

Zuko’s eyes tracked over her expression carefully, taking in the way her eyes had lit up. “Of course,” he said automatically. “I’ll make sure someone brings it to the stables later.” Her smile widened, little crinkles appearing under her eyes. She was looking at him too brightly. He swallowed thickly, nodding as he turned his gaze away to look at Aang, who was looking at him with a sagely expression. “The others have gone to freshen up for the banquet. I can send someone to take Appa to the stables now so you can rest for a bit.”

Aang’s gaze flickered between Xuan and Zuko carefully before he turned to Xuan. “Do you want to take him to the stables? You can fly him there.”

Xuan jolted at this, looking delighted. Zuko hesitated. He could very well imagine her falling out of the sky bison on her first ride, probably from leaning over too far in her overexcitement. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he began but faltered when she turned to him. “I… um,” he stammered, taking in the way she was looking at him. 

“Can’t I?” She asked, her expression so painfully hopeful that Zuko had a hard time looking at her directly.

“Of course,” he said again weakly before he could think about it. When his words caught up to his brain, he frowned, the image of her falling out flashing in his mind again. “I’ll go with you since you haven’t ridden on him before,” he added after a moment.

Xuan’s face split into a beaming smile. It was like staring into a comet hurtling right towards him.

Zuko had known that Xuan wasn’t terrible-looking from the beginning, had understood the aesthetic admiration the court ladies meant when they called her handsome at the banquet, and had seen her smile a little before at Suki and now Toph, but something in the way she was grinning at him then felt like he had the wind knocked out of his chest, as though she had bent the air out of his lungs. She smiled with her teeth flashing, her chestnut eyes crinkling into small half-moons as the amber browns in them seemed to glimmer at him brightly. His mouth went paper dry.

Oh, fuck, Zuko thought miserably. Of course she has a dimple . It felt like he was choking on his breath as he stared at her, the warmth in his chest spread to his head now like a dizzying fog rendering him unable to think. It was a feeling similar to the warmth that would gather in his chest when he was about to firebend. Zuko had no idea what to do with the new, dizzying knowledge that Xuan looked terribly striking when she was smiling at him .

“Huh,” Aang said, his gray eyes assessing as he watched Zuko. His gray eyes were bright with the sort of wisdom that surpassed his years—understandably, given that he had lived many lifetimes already. This effectively snapped Zuko from his stupor. To his mingled relief and disappointment, Xuan turned away from him to clamber onto Appa’s saddle swiftly.

“Don’t,” Zuko said shortly to the Avatar as he followed in suit of his wife, his chest still tight.

“You should take Appa for a longer ride to tire him out a bit before the stables,” Aang said simply, though his face was bright with mirth.

“Really?” Xuan’s head popped out suddenly from the saddle above him, her hair falling down towards him like an ink waterfall. She was closer than he had expected, but her focus, unsurprisingly, was on Aang’s offer. “Can we really?”

“It’s up to, Zuko,” Aang said with a shrug as he walked backwards up the step and gave them a wave farewell.

“The banquet is soon,” Zuko grumbled. Xuan’s grin faltered briefly so he continued roughly, “But we have some time. Now get your head out of the way so I can get up.”

She clambered back immediately as Zuko climbed into the saddle. She sat at the front of the saddle, practically vibrating with excitement. He bit back his smile as he situated himself next to her, grabbing hold of the reins.

”You should say the words,” Zuko told her.

” Really ?” 

“Sure,” Zuko said easily, focusing his attention on the reins. “Do you know them?”

“Of course— everybody knows them,” she said brightly before clearing her throat, her expression comically serious. She patted the top of Appa’s fur over the saddle and said carefully, “ Yip yip !”

As soon as they rose in the air, Xuan’s face broke into an even wider grin. “We’re really in the air,” she exclaimed, leaning over the saddle to peer as the ground became smaller below them. 

He reached out, his hand snagging on the sash on her robes. “If you’re not careful, you won’t be,” he said gruffly, only relaxing as she sat back sheepishly.

“I’ve never been this high up before,” she said conversationally, her gaze swinging to the horizon around them. “I mean, there’s the mountains, of course, and the air ships, but Earth Kingdom citizens were never allowed to go on.”

He grimaced, though there was no malice in her words. “We can change that,” he said after a moment.

Her gaze slid to him as another small smile curved across her lips as she nodded. That helpless feeling came back to Zuko at full force. “Yes,” she agreed, pushing a tendril of hair from her face. The intricate pinup had come mostly undone, a result of all of her swift bowing to Aang and the others and from the wind as they drifted through the sky. 

Without thinking, Zuko reached out, his knuckles brushing against the loose curls of her hair. She blinked, staring at him quizzically as his heart thumped unevenly in his chest. “You have Appa’s fur everywhere,” he murmured, opening his palm to show her the tufts of white fur he had removed from her hair.

“Ah,” she said with a mournful sigh, entirely straight-faced. “And here I was thinking you had turned into a romantic.”

Zuko’s face burned with embarrassment. He didn’t know whether to laugh or glare and instead opted to shrug his shoulders awkwardly as he released Appa’s fur. He watched it drift away into the sky. Some stubborn monster in him roused itself to make him mutter, “I am a romantic.” The moment the words left his mouth, regret filled him. The feeling only intensified as he watched Xuan’s brows shoot up. But that stubborn monster in him seemed to stay awake because he double downed, nodding. “With Mai, I used to be the one to plan our dates,” he huffed, before faltering slightly. “Well, she never was that particular about where we went as long as it was relatively uncrowded, but I—“ He stopped abruptly, slowly growing aware of his prattling.

She was watching him, her expression amused. “Not many wives enjoy hearing about their husband’s first love,” she said lightly. Zuko wanted to set himself on fire. Or maybe throw himself out of the saddle.

”Um. Sorry,” he blurted. 

“I was just kidding,” Xuan laughed, the sound clear and striking. It felt like a gust of wind blew straight through Zuko’s chest as he watched the light warm across her skin, her eyes gone golden brown against the sun. “Did you love her?” Zuko glanced at her warily, wondering if it was a trap, but saw that there was no edge to her question, just plain curiosity.

He hesitated, distracted by the reflection of the setting sun’s light on her face. “I think so,” he said truthfully. “And I think she loved me, at least before I became Fire Lord. She stood up to Azula for me and waited for me even when I was exiled. But after things stabilized, we were still never stable. Somehow, it was easier to be together when we weren’t together.” He realized he was musing out loud and turned to her quickly, inwardly groaning again. Even though she had joked about it, Zuko was sure no wife—no matter how fake—would want to hear her husband talking about his first love. But she was nodding along with him, her expression thoughtful as she listened. Nervously, he added hastily, “And it would have been too complicated with Mai as Fire Lady.”

Her brow shot up and he grimaced. “I’d argue my background is complicated as well.”

“Yes, well…” He flushed, turning his gaze to the horizon as the sentence went unfinished between them. He tried to change the subject. “And you? Was there anyone in the Old Colonies for you?”

”Me?” She frowned thoughtfully for a moment, her expression distant as she followed his gaze to the horizon. Something like dread thrummed in his chest—he would hate to find out that she did have someone. Because then it would have meant that it was their marriage that got in the way of it, of course. Zuko swallowed back his anticipation as he watched her think out of the corner of her eye. “I don’t have much that amounted to anything,” she said with a shrug. “Though I had a small crush when I first joined the Restorationist Forces.”

He glanced at her, relieved. “A crush?”

She nodded. “He was the swordmaster's pupil,” she said, looking nostalgic. “The swordmaster only took one pupil every few years. I used to sneak out of the barracks to watch him train.”

“Is that how you learned how to wield a sword?”

Xuan blinked, looking offended. “Of course not,” she said, incredulous. “His form was shabby—Jinzu always valued his bending training at the cost of everything else. Bender’s folly. I watched him train to see what he was struggling with. If you bested the swordmaster's pupil, that was a straight shot to becoming the next student.”

Zuko chuckled, leaning back against the saddle. “And did you?”

Xuan shot him a cheeky grin. Another flash of the dimple. His stomach swooped, as if Appa had dove directly towards the ground. He looked away. “Of course,” she said proudly.

Zuko nodded distractedly, belatedly realizing that he had been guiding them in circles. “And,” he began again, hesitating as he trained his focus carefully on steering Appa towards the stables, “What of your crush? Did you ever pursue him?”

”The first time I spoke to him, any romantic illusions disappeared immediately,” Xuan said flatly. “He was arrogant beyond belief. A bit insufferable really. And it took him years to forgive me for beating him in front of his master. In retrospect, I’m not sure if I had feelings for him or if I had wanted to be him.”

Zuko tried not to smile as he rubbed at his mouth, nodding. “I see,” he said finally. They fell into another silence before he spoke up again. “Do you miss it?” It was a vague question, and he had tried to say it light-heartedly. 

“Yes, of course,” she said easily, her eyes focusing on the horizon as if she could see her home again.

“Ah,” Zuko made a soft sound at the back of his throat, regret smothering his curiosity swiftly. Why would I ask that? He kicked himself inwardly, grimacing. 

“But it’s normal to miss home, isn’t it?” She continued, her voice matter-of-factly. He blinked and glanced at her, only to see that she was already looking at him, her gaze as clear and steady as ever.

He hesitated. All those nights on the ship searching for the Avatar had been both the best and worst parts of his life. He hadn’t known it then, but he hadn’t been searching for the Avatar or his honor back then, he had just been looking for a way home. A way to end those nights on that ship, bobbing in the middle of the dark ocean, wishing he could be home again. “Yes,” he agreed finally. “It’s normal to miss home.”

Xuan peered at him for a moment longer and it felt like all his thoughts were flayed open on display for her to study. But she only nodded before looking back out at the horizon again. “And anyways, at home, there’s no need for a general anymore in a time of peace,” she continued. Her expression did something funny, though it disappeared just as quickly. “And I want to be useful.”

“Useful,” he echoed, as he followed her gaze. 

Next to him, she straightened. “Yes,” she said again, turning to him fully. “If you’ll let me, I think I can be of good use to you and the Fire Nation here. I’ll work hard.”

It was such a raw, unexpected display of earnestness that Zuko didn’t know what to do but nod at her dumbly. He cleared his throat, mustering up an awkward, “I’ll look forward to it.”

It seemed enough though because something like relief flooded her expression as her face split into another small, tentatively hopeful smile that mirrored the dizzying warmth in his chest. 

“About earlier,” he began slowly, glancing at her out of his peripheral vision. “I’m sorry. I didn’t invite Aang and the others because I…” He felt like he was always apologizing to her. Zuko also found that he didn’t mind much. Though this time, he wasn’t exactly sure what to say, but mercifully, Xuan cut in.

Xuan shrugged blithely, though her expression seemed to smoothen out. “I understand,” she said easily. A twinge of something like discomfort or disappointment wormed in his chest at her lack of reaction. Well, it’s good she’s not upset about it, he tried to tell himself. “My expectations were set clearly in the beginning, so you don’t have to apologize,” she continued. “It’s a marriage of convenience after all—” Xuan turned to look at him, her expression sincere and determined as she repeated again, “—I’ll work hard to be of use.”

Her words were startling straightforward, each one like a douse of cold water. Though it had been agreed upon in the beginning, to hear it spelled out so plainly was unpleasant. Zuko tightened his grip on the reins as he tore his gaze away from the way her eyes seemed to steal the sunlight. “Yes,” he said tightly. “Of course.”

Chapter Text

“Dinner hasn’t even come out yet,” he heard Toph mutter not-quietly under her breath. He ignored her, of course.

“I was hoping to discuss the recent unrest in the south,” Zuko said again, louder this time to get everyone else’s attention.

“The Fire Nation has no sense of hospitality, it’s always just business, business, business,” Toph grumbled, sighing as she tipped back in her chair.

“We’ve heard,” Aang said, also ignoring the blind earthbender but with more patience than Zuko had shown. “Katara and I were planning on stopping by the borders of the Fire Nation to assess the situation.”

“I’m sorry to call you so far out,” Zuko began, but the airbender just shook his head.

“It’ll be good to see the region. Perhaps we’ve left them alone for too long,” Aang said thoughtfully. “Do we know the cause of the unrest?”

“There have been reports of tensions with the Domestic Forces benders in that region and—” Zuko hesitated, grimacing, before he swallowed his pride to force it out. Whether he liked it or not, the issue was growing rapidly each week and it was too large to pretend that he didn’t need their help. And besides, Aang was the Avatar. Wasn’t bringing peace supposed to be his whole thing?

Asking for help is not a sign of weakness, but of friendship , Uncle Iroh had told him when he first brought up his concerns. This had been a year earlier, when the issue had seemed much smaller. Now though, the reports of clashes between benders and non-benders were growing. That, and the other issue, which he had no idea how to tackle. Zuko sighed and straightened, before spitting it out stiffly. “—and they don’t like me as Fire Lord.”

A silence fell across the room. He cleared his throat. “Well, er, there are reports of positive adoption of the new policies, but well…” He trailed off, forcing himself to look at the others. To his surprise, none of them looked surprised—in fact, they were all nodding to themselves, save for Xuan who just looked thoughtful. “None of you look particularly shocked,” he observed dryly, ignoring the sting to his pride.

“Well, it’s just…” Sokka began, before looking to the others for help.

“When was the last time you went out?” Katara finished for him, not unkindly.

“We went to a banquet just a week ago,” he said defensively, glancing to Xuan for help. She nodded in confirmation.

“Okay, but before that?” Toph pressed, not kindly. “Even the tabloids in the Earth Kingdom say that you’re a recluse.”

Zuko grimaced. Was it really that bad? “I’ve been busy working—”

“But no one knows that, really, except us,” Sokka added, scratching at the nape of his neck. “Maybe you need to make more public appearances.” 

“Right,” Aang agreed, nodding enthusiastically. “It helps to put a face to the name or the policies.”

“And we’ve seen that the new policies are all well-received, so it could only help your public image,” Suki added, ignoring Zuko’s frown with practiced ease. Ever since Sokka had arrived, the two had been practically glued to each other’s sides, understandably—though Zuko was always still a little caught off guard to see the Kiyoshi Warrior without her heavy face paint.

“Public image,” Zuko echoed in disbelief. He could feel a nascent headache begin to form behind his eyes, and it only grew when he saw that glint in Sokka’s eyes whenever he started thinking of an idea.

“It’s not something to take lightly,” Sokka agreed. “We’ve been seeing a rise of reporters recently in the Northern Water Tribes with the women’s movement.”

“It’s been seven years—”

“It’s not too late. Look at Aang—he disappeared for a century and came back and now he has a sparkling public image.”

“Yes, well, he’s the Avatar,” Zuko pointed out wryly. “No matter what I do, they still think of me as the exiled prince and the son of—” He broke off sharply, though he didn’t need to finish. No matter what he did, no matter how many policies he passed, his past and lineage would chase him. I am not my father , he reminded himself, exhaling slowly before any sparks could fly out of his mouth.

“So we’ll have to change your public image,” Sokka said again after a beat. “And yours too, probably.”

Everyone’s eyes slid to Xuan. She straightened, blinking in surprise. “Me?”

Sokka nodded in confirmation. “You two need to appear unified to instill some confidence in the people. Even if it was a strategic union, neither of you can be hiding away in the palace like this. It’ll only make people nervous.”

Zuko felt his cheeks flush. When his eyes met with Xuan’s, he was startled to see her gaze was clear-eyed and steady as she nodded in agreement. “It’s not a bad idea,” she said thoughtfully.

Sokka beamed, preening at her words. “I was always the Ideas Guy,” he said proudly with a shrug that was anything but nonchalant.

Zuko glanced around the table, only to see everyone looking at him expectantly. “Fine, if I’m out-voted,” he grumbled. “What do you suggest? Doing an interview with the reporters? Hosting a banquet?” The feeling of the headache came back full force.

“How about a tour?” Aang suggested. “We’re finishing up some travels around the Fire Nation—maybe it’ll be good for you to join us and, uh, interact with people.”

“There’s a lot to do here—” Zuko began automatically, but Katara cut in quickly, clearly sensing his hesitation.

“And we’re visiting the borders. Two arctic hens, one stone—you can assess the situation with the Domestic Forces benders while we’re there.”

Still, Zuko hesitated. There was so much work to be done still in the palace—he didn’t want to imagine the mountains of paperwork that would pile up if they took time to travel. His gaze slid over to Xuan, but she was looking at him hopefully. He could feel his resolve begin to waver again, like melting snow. 

“Three arctic hens, one stone,” Sokka corrected. “You can use the public appearances to show the unity of the Fire Lord and Fire Lady. Hold hands or something, I don’t know. We’ll have to figure out the details later and get the papers to write about it.”

Hold hands? If they went on this trip, they could hold hands? His gaze fell reflexively to the curve of her fingers, long and slender, and mortifyingly, he could feel his face warm at the sight of them. It felt as if he had bent a fireball dangerously close to his face—he could feel the heat rise all the way to his ears as his body went uncomfortably warm and his mouth terribly dry. It was as his worldview suddenly narrowed to a pinhole because he became painfully aware of Xuan’s hand resting on the table. 

“Fire Lord?” Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts, much to his relief and chagrin. 

“What do you think?” He asked, or rather croaked because his throat was so parched. He curled his fingers around the sleeves of his robes, unable to look at her directly so he opted for looking past her.

“I think it’s worth a shot,” she said, looking entirely unperturbed, which only served to perturb Zuko. Was she not at all… bothered by Sokka’s suggestion? Zuko wasn’t sure if that was a bad thing or good thing. She looked as if she was going to say more but instead, she hesitated as a few attendants entered the banquet hall with trays. 

“Well, think it over some,” Sokka said distractedly as his gaze followed a plate of komodo chicken. “We leave for the borders in a few days.”

“Ah, perfect,” Toph declared, already reaching for the plate of komodo chicken before the attendant could place it down. “No more talks about politics or borders.”

As the others began to eat and as the conversation began to shift aimlessly, Zuko took the opportunity to lean over to Xuan. It was bothering him that it seemed like she had something else she wanted to say on the subject. Maybe she doesn’t want to go at all , he thought uneasily.

“Was there something else you wanted to say about visiting the borders?” Zuko asked, keeping his voice low enough for only her to hear.

“Ah,” Xuan said, glancing up at him in surprise. A sheepish look flickered across her face and Zuko felt a spike of panic in his chest. Maybe she actually didn’t want to go, he thought again.

“I was just going to say that I think it’s worth a shot to visit to settle any issues,” she said, averting her gaze from his. “And… I heard that the region is known for their cuisine and culture, so I thought it would be nice to explore more of the Fire Nation. So I suppose my reasons for wanting to go are a bit, er, more self-serving. Though I do think that it’s important to resolve the unrest, of course, it’s not that I just want to try the Shu Jing peaches,” she prattled on. 

She wanted to learn more about Fire Nation culture? It felt like there was a blazing hearth in his chest. Zuko stared stupidly at the glowing flush on her cheeks. Suddenly, his vision throbbed painfully with the image of her standing in a grove of blossoming peach trees in Shu Jing.

“We’ll go to the borders,” Zuko announced to the table, his mouth moving before his mind. It was only when everyone’s attention at the table shifted to him that he realized what he had agreed to, though he couldn’t find much regret in himself as he watched her face brighten with pleased surprise.

“Wow,” Sokka chirped around a mouthful of komodo chicken. “Why the sudden change of— Hey !” An arc of water fell across his head, a little too neatly.

“Sorry,” Katara said without blinking an eye in his direction as she set down her glass. “Slip of hand.”

“ Slip of hand ?” He spluttered, drawing his sleeve across his now-damp forehead. “You’re a master waterbender—”

“Let me help,” Aang said smoothly, with the sort of grace that came with years of de-escalation. With a flick of his wrist, he sent a gust of wind flowing towards Sokka with enough strength that the latter’s hair fell out its bun into a frizzy mess.

“Here,” Suki added, hushing her partner swiftly as she fussed over his hair.

Ignoring her brother’s protests, Katara turned to Zuko and Xuan with a bright smile. “It’s great that you’ll be joining us.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Xuan said brightly and any semblance of doubt quickly fell out of his mind.

“If you’re interested in Fire Nation cuisine and culture—” He spooned some food onto her plate. “—have you had this before?” He asked, catching her attention. “Smoked sea slug.”

She stared at it and Zuko had to hold back a laugh at the clear skepticism on her face. “Oh,” she said politely.

“It’s good,” he promised as he piled on spiced seaweed salad onto her plate. “I think you’ll like it.”

Xuan peered at him dubiously before she took a bite. Zuko couldn’t quite suppress the pull at his lips as he watched the surprise flicker across her face. “It is good,” she agreed, looking pleased.

He smiled into his cup of spiced tea, equally pleased, before he noticed Sokka watching him across the table, a look of understanding and smugness slowly dawning on his face. Avoiding Sokka’s searching gaze, Zuko downed the cup swiftly, tipping it back to cover his face and grimaced at the near-burning temperature of the tea.

“Say,” Sokka began, in a tone that Zuko knew was nothing but bad news, “Do you handle your liquor well, Xuan?”

“Of course,” Xuan said without any hesitation, in a tone that only made Zuko more nervous. She straightened proudly.

“It’s in the blood,” Toph and Xuan said at the same time.

As if there was any doubt after that, Suki nodded firmly. “It is.”

Zuko tried not to groan at the Earth Kingdom natives, though it became increasingly difficult as Sokka whooped and set a large bottle on the table. Even just looking at that bottle made Zuko nauseous as his mind flashed back to the last time Sokka had brought a similar case. 

As if to confirm his suspicions, Sokka smiled slyly in Zuko’s direction. “We’ll have to have a little competition then.”

“What is it?” Xuan asked, peering at the bottle.

“Cactus juice liquor,” Sokka said, before adding, “Zuko’s favorite.”

Zuko tried not to blanch. “It really isn’t,” he muttered. “And anyways, I have an early meeting with the advisors tomorrow morning. We’re discussing the trade routes up the river, which was the next thing I wanted to bring up—”

“Surely you won’t back down from a challenge, Fire Lord Zuko,” Toph piped up, clearly sensing that he was trying to steer the conversation back to business. 

He could feel Xuan’s eyes slide between him and the others and he made the mistake of looking back at her. “I’ll have a cup,” he said out of reflex before inwardly cursing. He was having a strangely difficult time denying her, even when she wasn’t asking. It would be better if he looked at her less again, he thought to himself as he turned away to watch Sokka break into a gleeful smile as he reached for a cup.

Next to him, Xuan shifted closer. Close enough that it didn’t matter that he wasn’t looking at her because he could smell the faint scent of orange blossoms. Zuko held perfectly still, though any sense of anticipation dissipated immediately at her next words.

“If you’re worried about waking up tomorrow, I can take your drink,” Xuan murmured to him, which only served to poke at his pride.

“I can handle my alcohol,” he grumbled sourly.

On Xuan’s other side, Sokka poked his head out. “If by handle, he means waking up half submerged in the turtleduck pond, then yes, Zuko can handle his alcohol perfectly well.”

Zuko shot him a withering glare and snatched the cup of cactus juice out of Sokka’s hand.

“There’s a turtleduck pond?” Xuan asked.

“You haven’t seen it?” Sokka asked, clearly surprised. “It’s Zuko’s favorite place in the palace. Whenever we’re here, he always makes us see how big turtleducks have gotten.”

“Ah. I must have overlooked it,” Xuan said after a beat. Zuko didn’t miss the way she shifted back away to a polite distance away from him again, the pleasant scent of orange blossoms disappearing with her. He also didn’t miss the look that Aang and Katara exchanged with each other. Something like discomfort twisted in his chest, heavy and uncomfortable.

Toph, as observant as ever, seemed to sense the awkward shift in the room, and for once, Zuko was grateful for her complaining. “So, are we just going to hold our drinks the whole night?”

“Ah, of course,” Sokka said, clearing his throat as his gaze darted from Zuko to Xuan once more before he lifted his cup. “Cheers!”

“Cheers,” Zuko murmured, clinking his cup against the others before he took a big gulp, half to busy himself, half to swallow back his regret. The liquor burned down his throat, but he swallowed it down with a shudder.

Next to him, Xuan took a sip. “Oh, it’s pretty good,” she said, her expression unchanging. Zuko gave her an incredulous look just as Sokka grinned.

“Great,” Sokka said, shooting Zuko a pleased look. “Because I brought four more carafes.”

“He would have brought more, but Aang didn’t want Appa carrying that much weight,” Katara added, unamused.

“A shame,” Sokka sighed mournfully, already leaning over to refill everyone’s cups.

Zuko closed his eyes for a moment. It was going to be a long night—and an even longer morning.

— — — — —

Xuan leaned her shoulder against one of the wooden posts on the raised platform of the sparring ring she was sitting on, her eyes closing. It was well past midnight now and her mind was spinning pleasantly—she had taken the opportunity of Sokka and Suki bickering drunkenly to slip out of the banquet hall to get some fresh air.

It’s been awhile since I’ve had a drink with friends , she thought to herself, soaking in the warm feeling from the cactus juice liquor. The last time had to have been an outing with her platoon—she remembered a drinking contest with Jinzu that ended up with himself in a fountain. Wait , she thought, another thought surfacing through the haze of her mind. Were they all even friends? She had only just met them and Zuko… Well, Zuko was her husband. To some extent.

It had definitely been fun though, she thought with a satisfied sigh. They were all unexpectedly easy to get along with—it only took about a drink and Sokka nearly toppling out of his chair for her to feel the initial nerves of meeting them all wear off. Xuan replayed the events of the past few hours slowly through her mind happily. Zuko had let her sit in on their meeting—well, it was less of a political meeting and more of a pre-dinner catch up, much to Toph’s chagrin—and she was finally able to give her opinion on something .

She knew that it didn’t mean that Zuko trusted her—she saw how tense he got whenever he was around her, in fact, it seemed that recently he was growing more and more stiff around her—but a thrill of delight had shot through her when he turned to look at her and asked what she thought about going on the trip with the others to the Fire Nation borders. Xuan had tried to remain calm, so as to not overshoot her response, but inwardly, she had been ecstatic.

“Progress,” she hummed to herself happily, opening her eyes and stretching with a yawn. It had been a good night, she thought. A great one even. And she was sure that if she worked hard on this trip to change their public image, she could really start to do some good.

“Looking to get some training in?” A voice asked, quiet enough so as to not startle her. Xuan glanced up to see Zuko step out into the training courtyard. 

“Ah, I was just sobering up a bit here,” Xuan explained, surprised to see him. She had slipped out pretty quietly while he was speaking to Aang and Katara. “Though I suppose now would be a good time to work on Drunken Fist forms.”

“Funny place to relax,” Zuko commented, reaching out to prod at one of the wooden dummies.

“I like it here,” she said, following his gaze to the rest of the training courtyard. 

The pink flush on his cheek seemed to darken, though she wasn't sure if it was a trick of the dim light from the paper lanterns that lit the perimeter of the courtyard. “That’s good,” he said quietly after a moment. He stepped closer towards her, nodding down at the space on the platform next to her. “May I join you?” 

She nodded. Though there was plenty of space, Xuan was aware that Zuko preferred being well outside of her proximity—his posture always stayed uncomfortably taut whenever she neared him—so she scooted over on the platform until her side was up against the post. So when Zuko hoisted himself up on the platform, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off of him—granted, he was a firebender—she turned to look at him in surprise, though he was looking ahead fixedly, shoulders still taut.

“Are you drunk?” She asked, trying to make conversation. Somehow, the silence between them in the dim light coupled with the fuzzy warmth of the cactus juice liquor felt dangerous.

The question was rhetorical though because Zuko’s unscarred cheek had gotten a pink flush after just the first cup of cactus juice liquor—it didn’t help that he was fair-skinned, his skin like milk against the stark ink of his hair. He was normally all sharp, pale angles, like a statue earthbent out of marble, only solidified further by his cold scowl, but with the color in his cheeks, he looked startlingly boyish and bright. Xuan liked the look on him—his constant frown had relaxed into nonexistence, gold eyes less sharp and words less harsh. In fact, Xuan had been thinking about it this shift all evening as she listened to the others recount their stories of their adventures—her eyes kept straying back to Zuko in amazement whenever he chuckled or half-smiled or poked dry fun at the others. 

“A little,” he agreed. “Sokka’s hand is only generous when it comes to drink.”

Xuan huffed a laugh. “I’m starting to think that he has some ulterior motive in getting you to miss your meeting in the morning.”

“We’ll have to designate him as an enemy of the Fire Nation,” Zuko agreed, his mouth twitching.

Ah , Xuan thought dumbly as she stared at the tug at his lips. There it is again . Before she could catch a better glimpse of it though, Zuko turned away from her to peer up at the cloudless sky.

“The moon is bright today,” he observed absently, leaning back on his palms in a posture that was unexpectedly casual. Xuan stared at the long column of his neck as he craned his head back.

“Yes,” she agreed distractedly, before she caught herself staring. She forced her gaze to follow his to the full moon.

“Katara always says that she can feel a connection with the moon when it’s at its fullest,” Zuko said, surprisingly conversational. He must be more tipsy than I thought , she observed, eyes darting to the flush in his cheeks again. It felt reflexive to look at him when he was like this. “I guess I can feel it during the summer when the sun is stronger.” His gaze turned to her and a jolt ran through her—she felt like she had been caught in the act of staring. “I’ve read about the badgermoles, but is there anything similar for earthbenders? I realize I’m ignorant when it comes to the earthbending.”

Out of habit, she felt for that connection, that pull in the pit of her stomach, though she knew it had been long severed. Discomfort wormed in her chest, a feeling that she would have normally been able to push away. But the cactus juice liquor seemed to have made all her emotions more pungent because it took her several beats of silence before she shook the memories out of her mind.

“Yes, around fault lines and mountains,” she said finally, clearing her throat. “The greatest earthbenders master the neutral jing. My— The teacher in our village always said that earthbenders need to be stationary, like a mountain, to understand neutral jing.”

“Hmm,” Zuko hummed. “I’ve noticed that’s how Toph fights. She waits and then strikes, but I thought that was just an extension of her seismic sense.”

Xuan nodded quietly, opting instead to change the subject. “Have the others gone to bed?” 

“Something like that,” Zuko said with a wry twist to his lips. Xuan stared at it distractedly. “Sokka’s gone to bed at the table with his cup and Toph has ruined the banquet hall’s flooring building a tent out of stone. I doubt it’s comfortable.”

Xuan smiled at the image. “Were you headed to bed?”

Zuko’s golden gaze darted to her with an unexpected intensity. “Ah, no,” he said with a shake of his head that sent a lock of his hair against his brow. At some point during the festivities, his hair had begun to fall loose from its normal, careful hold. “I was looking for you.”

Warmth spread dangerously in her chest, the feeling similar to being drunk though she was sure she hadn’t had enough of the cactus juice liquor to have felt that strongly.

“Oh,” she blurted inelegantly, before clearing her throat. “Was there something you wanted to discuss?” And then another thought occurred to her, effectively replacing any warmth with worry. “Did I act out of line in front of the Avatar and the others?”

“No,” Zuko said swiftly, turning to look at her fully now with something like alarm on his face. He shook his head. “Nothing like that. You did, er, fine.” He coughed. 

“Oh,” Xuan said again, relaxing again. “That’s good.”

“Yes,” he said, a bit nonsensically. She watched curiously as he shifted his gaze around the training courtyard. “They all… like you. Very much.”

Xuan straightened, pleased. “I’m glad to hear it,” she said, trying not to preen, but it was difficult with the new knowledge that the Avatar and his friends liked her. It was strange to think that just months earlier, her life had looked so different. She would have never thought she’d ever visit the Fire Nation, let alone meet the Avatar or Lady Katara. Or the Fire Lord. It seemed that ever since she had married him, her world had begun to open up in unimaginable ways. Her gaze slid to him, only to see that he was already watching her thoughtfully. “I’ll work hard on this trip,” she assured him hurriedly, but with as much sincerity as she could muster. She straightened. “So that there won’t be any doubts about our public image.”

“Ah,” Zuko made a sound at the back of his throat. “Yes. That’s good,” he said haltingly.

“You won’t regret your decision,” she promised. Xuan wasn’t sure which decision she was talking about exactly—his decision to go to the Fire Nation borders or his decision to marry her. Inwardly, she grimaced and clamped her mouth shut before the cactus juice liquor could loosen her tongue further.

“Yes,” Zuko said quietly, still looking at her intently. The full weight of his gaze was startling—it was a strange contrast to how he always looked away from her when he was sober. “I don’t think I will.” Xuan nodded once, pleased, before he finally looked away and cleared his throat. “But I was looking for you because I wanted to ask if it was too much.”

She blinked. “If what was too much?”

He gestured vaguely in the direction of the banquet hall. “Having the others over. I know it can be uncomfortable when everyone knows each other. And they can be a lot.”

“Ah, no,” Xuan answered, surprised by his consideration. She tried to catch his gaze, but it seemed that the moment had passed and Zuko had returned to not looking at her. “It was wonderful to meet them, especially the Avatar. A dream honestly, I can’t write to Linh and Dao about it,” she insisted. She didn’t want to give Zuko any reason to worry, not when being around the others was the most relaxed she had ever seen him.

“He’s just a person, really,” Zuko said, his lips twisting back into a ghost of a scowl, much to Xuan’s despair.

“Still, I had only ever heard the stories,” Xuan said. When his expression turned glacial again, she tried to backtrack, though she wasn’t entirely sure what it was she said exactly that made his face twist. “And I enjoyed hearing the stories from everyone. Especially the ‘Hello, Zuko here.’” The others burst into laughter when they were recounting it—it had brought Toph nearly to tears as the earthbender had retold it.

Zuko’s scowl lessened into an embarrassed grimace. “It wasn’t one of my best moments,” he mumbled. 

Xuan laughed, relieved when his scowl disappeared entirely. “All that to say that I enjoyed tonight. Truly.” 

That tiny half-smile tugged at his lips again, but it disappeared as he rubbed at his mouth. “That’s good,” he said finally, nodding to himself. What would it take for him to smile? She wondered in a dazed awe as she watched him. Xuan was suddenly moved by the strong wish to see it and the new resolve that she was willing to do nearly anything to make it happen. She would get rid of his burdens, with her bare hands if she had to, so that he could live like how he was tonight.

“It’s late,” he continued, his voice rough as it broke her out of her thoughts. “I’ll walk you back.” 

Xuan decided not to point out that one, they were in probably the safest place in the Fire Nation, two, the Avatar and his friends were also all there, albeit drunk, and three, that she was skilled enough to take care of herself should something go wrong. Instead, she nodded, rising to her feet to follow him down the corridor.

She studied the outline of his back as she stepped after him. She had gotten used to staring at his back—his strides were always so frustratingly long with the length of his legs, and it also seemed to her that he was always trying to flee from her—but even now, she mentally traced the broad slope of his shoulders in great interest. She was studying the expanse of his back in such earnest that she didn’t notice that he had stopped and she nearly rammed her nose into his shoulder blade before she sidestepped, unbalanced.

“Sorry,” he said, as he stepped next to her, his stride much slower. Hearing another apology from him was so foreign that Xuan, in her fuzzy brain, couldn’t decipher what exactly he was apologizing for her. When they arrived at the dragon-carved doors that led to the chambers, he opened it and followed her in. 

“Get some rest,” Zuko murmured as he lit the candles in the room with a wave of his hands.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Xuan sighed before sitting on the bed, letting her arms fall limply. Warmth seeped into her muscles as Xuan relaxed in the bed. She hated to admit it, but the Fire Nation beds were the best she had ever slept in—even if everything was so terribly red, the pillows were majestically soft and plump, and the silk sheets felt luxurious against her skin. She was about to comment on it when she caught the expression on Zuko’s face. He was staring at her fixedly, his eyes flared open and dark and heavy like melted gold as they tracked over her. 

“Oh,” Xuan murmured belatedly, resisting the urge to hurriedly tug the plush duvet around her. Suddenly, under Zuko’s gaze, she felt exposed, despite all the layers of her robes, but she held perfectly still as she met his gaze. His expression did something funny, his throat bobbing as something flickered across his face. Spirits , she thought, her mind going unhelpfully blank. Zuko was still staring down at her with a peculiar expression, his hair a little disheveled from where it was normally pinned back, falling around his face in an inky sheet. He has the prettiest hair , she thought distractedly to herself as she admired the way it framed his face. The color reminded her of raven eagle feathers, and it looked just as soft. 

Emboldened in part by the cactus juice liquor, but mostly by the way he was looking at her, Xuan reached up towards him. She paused before she could though, the memory of the first time she had tried to touch him breaking through the haze of her mind and effectively ending any silly impulses. They had been in the same room just months earlier, when he had snapped at her. 

As she began to draw her hand back, Zuko seemed to surge forward, his unscarred cheek pressing firmly against her hand. She stared at him, shocked, her hand gone still against his cheek and his eyes gone wide and dark. His cheek was wondrously warm and pink against the calluses of her hand. Dimly, she wondered whether or not she had actually fallen asleep and was dreaming. Maybe the cactus juice liquor had been way stronger than she had expected. The only signs that she had that told her it wasn’t a dream was that Zuko’s cheek was burning up in her hand.

He was so painfully pretty, it felt unfair. On his unscarred eye, his lashes were long and thick, and she watched them, entranced, as they fluttered shut for a moment. His lips parted as he let out a shallow breath. Xuan stared stupidly, tracing the outline of them with her eyes as she held her breath.

“Will…” Xuan hesitated. Did he want to stay? She couldn’t wrap her mind around what was happening. They had made strides in progress between them in the past few weeks, miles of progress in just the past day. Maybe he was waiting for her to invite him, she thought hopefully. Somehow, this felt as terrifying as it did to rush into battle. And yet, she felt something like resolve and hope burn deep in the pit of her stomach. She took a steadying breath. The air in the room felt unbearably warm and dense, like a breath cupped between two hands. It could have been because the candles that Zuko had lit had flared into full flames. “Will you stay tonight, Fire Lord?”

A beat of silence passed before Zuko lurched backwards as if she had burnt him with her palm. She watched as Zuko’s face went an impossibly deeper shade of red immediately, his gaze darting from her to the space between them and then away from her. Her hand fell back down to the bed. His jaw clenched. “I see,” he said nonsensically, voice hoarse and strained. 

At his hesitation, Xuan flushed, already regretting her words as that burning resolve was swiftly smothered by mortification. “I’m sorry, that was presumptuous of me,” she said hurriedly as she rose to her feet.

“No,” Zuko blurted, reaching out for her. No sooner had his fingers closed around hers did he let go, his hands balling into fists at his side. “It’s okay… I just— I don’t want to. Not when—”

Suddenly, Xuan felt very sober. She ducked her head in embarrassment before forcing herself to look up as she nodded. “Of course,” she murmured, trying to be understanding. She had become overeager and selfish, misreading the progress they had made that night for an invitation of closeness. It was a mistake, she realized.They were not close, she reminded herself. Even so, his words were a sting to her pride. Did she still make him uncomfortable? And then another thought, this one more sobering than the others—he really was going to send her off to Ember Island like she had overheard that night. Of course he hadn’t told about or invited the others to their wedding, and of course he wasn’t going to stay anywhere near her. This was temporary. A paper marriage, ready to be burned at a moment's notice. “I— Um, I understand, of course. Please forget that I had asked.” 

Zuko looked lost, his gaze shifting between her and the door to his office. Frankly, he looked a little miserable, which only made something in her cringe more.

Xuan shook her head, forcing a smile on her face. “I understand,” she said again, firmer this time. “I’m just a bit embarrassed that I asked, that’s all.” She swallowed thickly, nodding at the door before she turned away from him to spare the both of them. “Good night, Fire Lord.”

Chapter Text

Well, the good thing was that she wasn’t avoiding him. The bad thing was that he was avoiding her. Sort of. Or rather, he had started avoiding her out of reflex, and Xuan had caught on quick enough to give him a polite, but rather wide, berth of space.

Which was why after they loaded their travel packs onto Appa’s saddle, they had ended up in this strange seating arrangement. 

“I’ve heard much about your diplomacy recently, Lady Katara. My youngest sister follows the movements in the Northern Water Tribes carefully,” Xuan said brightly from where she was seated between Aang and Katara at the front of the saddle. “If you’re open to it, I’d love to connect you to her—she has some ideas on improving the education system in the Old Colonies.”

“Certainly! My father’s partner has been writing a curriculum on…”

Zuko watched as she chatted with them, until a light shove came at his shoulder. “There’s no space now,” Toph grumbled from where she was sprawled next to him. “I don’t get how we used to all fit on Appa.”

“It’s not like you grew any taller in the last seven years,” Sokka snorted from where he sat with Suki across from them. The four of them were squeezed together at the back curve of the saddle, next to the stacks of travel packs. They had all agreed to travel together to the borders, and then they’d go their separate ways—Xuan, Zuko on a boat back to the capitol, Suki and Sokka would go on to visit Kyoshi Island, Toph would return to the metal bending academy, and Aang and Katara to the Northern Water tribes.

“At least I haven’t shrunk,” Toph muttered pointedly.

“I haven’t shrunk ,” Sokka spluttered.

“It comes with old age,” Toph supplied helpfully, stretching back further into Zuko’s space. He sighed, trying to draw his gaze back to the front. Considering the space she was giving him now, she didn’t seem to mind being elbow to elbow with Katara and Aang. He tried not to glare at the back of their heads.

“As if you’d respect your elders,” Sokka huffed, pushing Toph further away, further into Zuko. Irritation burned in his gut, like a low flame.

“Wisdom comes with age too, but I think you’ll be the exception,” Toph said pointedly, shoving back and elbowing Zuko in the ribs in the process.

“Will you two please sit still!” Zuko snapped, gathering everyone’s attention. His irritation waned in an instant when he saw Xuan looking at him. As soon as he met her gaze, she turned back to the front and Zuko felt his temple begin to throb. If they weren’t stuck in the sky , he would have pulled her aside to talk, but given that the saddle was already as crowded as it was, there was nowhere to talk. That, and he wasn’t sure exactly what to say to her now.

“Prince Hotman sure is hot-headed today,” Sokka muttered, settling back against the saddle.

“It’s Fire Lord Hotman now,” Toph corrected. Zuko took a deep breath so that he wouldn’t accidentally set Appa on fire.

“Speaking of Fire Lord business,” Sokka started, clearing his throat to gather everyone’s attention. Zuko already didn’t like the expression that Sokka was sporting. “We need to plan.”

In the front, Katara sighed, but she didn’t protest, so Zuko spoke up, ready to shut down the conversation. “What’s there to plan? I’ve already notified which officials we’ll be discussing each issue with. For the unrest with the Domestic Forces, I’ve sent a hawk to Admiral—”

“Ignoring officials and politics for now,” Sokka interrupted, shaking his head.

“Then what’s there to plan?” Zuko repeated.

“Your appearances. If you and Xuan go out and make public appearances now, everyone is going to think that you— That you, well—” Sokka seemed to flounder with his words for a moment, until Toph cut in.

“That the Fire Lord went and took a woman from the Old Colonies and is holding her hostage as his husband,” Toph said, without mincing any words.

Zuko flinched at the image she painted, his mouth opening in shock, when Katara continued. “Or that this is all some political sham to take over the Old Colonies.”

He grimaced again, his fingers curling into fists under the sleeves of his robes. “It’s not,” he said weakly, though it didn’t really need any saying. It was a political scheme. A political scheme to get out of his advisors’ political schemes. But he hadn’t agreed to the marriage for any of those reasons.

And Xuan… Xuan agreed to the marriage to get support for the Old Colonies. That much had been obvious in her discussions with Iroh, when she had negotiated the number of builders and resources that would be sent periodically back to the Old Colonies. Zuko had signed off on it and at the time, had even been relieved. At least he was marrying someone whose objectives were clearly spelled out, as opposed to someone who would be scheming and would leave him guessing to figure out what they wanted—Power? Money? Influence? To kill him? With Xuan, it had been perfectly written out in their proposal, and she had never asked for more.

Yes, he had been relieved when he first signed off on their agreement, but now, it left a sharp taste in his mouth, like he had bitten on his own tongue.

They had all turned towards the inside of the saddle now and Zuko had to fight to keep his gaze perfectly trained on Sokka. Did Xuan see it that way? That he was holding her hostage or that he wanted to take over the Old Colonies? Perhaps that was why she had been trying so hard to win his favor.

In the end, it was Xuan that spoke up before him. “So what can we do to prevent that image?” When everyone turned to look at her, she straightened, her gaze even. “I would also prefer not to be viewed as the Fire Lord’s hostage or political trophy wife.”

“Right,” Sokka nodded eagerly, his expression growing more animated. “So a plan—you both need to sell your relationship to the general public.” He paused thoughtfully. “To start, maybe stop calling Zuko Fire Lord all the time.”

“It’s too formal for your husband,” Katara agreed. “I don’t call Aang Avatar Aang.”

“Maybe sweetheart or darling,” Toph suggested, and if the earthbender wasn’t blind, Zuko would have sworn that her gaze slid over to him slyly. Though they were speaking to Xuan, who was nodding in earnest, Zuko could feel his face begin to warm, especially as she nodded soberly. 

“Or are there any Fire Nation endearments?” Aang suggested. “Like hotman? Hot-husband? Flame to my heart?”

Realizing that Aang was about to continue rattling off mortifying suggestions—and that Xuan might genuinely adopt them—Zuko cut in quickly, his voice hoarser than he would have liked. “Zuko.” When everyone’s gaze slid over to him, he cleared his throat. “Just Zuko is fine.” Her focus snagged on to him again to his pleasure and she nodded once, sharply, like a soldier accepting an order.

Zuko tried not to sigh.

“Great,” Sokka clasped his hands together, expression thoughtful again. “And maybe when you’re together in public, don’t be so…” He glanced at Zuko out of the corner of his eyes. “Stiff.”

“You should come off as a caring and attentive husband to fix your public image,” Katara added helpfully. Caring and attentive husband. The words slammed into Zuko’s skull like a punch. 

“You should look like you’re in love,” Aang agreed.

Love! Zuko felt dizzy and a little ill and he knew it wasn’t motion sickness from flying on Appa.

“If it’s not too difficult, I’d consider holding hands—” As if to prove a point, Sokka lifted his hand, which was already intertwined with Suki’s. 

Zuko’s face was dangerously hot now, like he had firebent a flame too close to his face. He didn’t dare to look over at Xuan now. “Fine. Okay,” he said shortly, eager to end the conversation now.

“If you have any questions on what to do, you can ask any of us, since we’re all experienced in this realm,” Sokka continued smugly, adding, “Except Toph, of course.”

“You’re so lucky we’re not connected to the earth right now—”

As they started arguing again, Zuko kept his gaze focused carefully on his hands. He had studied Xuan’s hands unconsciously, had probably spent more time looking away from her at her hands than at her directly. He liked her hands—her fingers weren’t terribly long or delicate, but they looked steady and unapologetically strong. He could see her hands now as he stared at his own rough hands. He could imagine the curve of each finger mapped out against his own, the feeling of her skin against his fingertips. If he let himself, he could also imagine the feeling of her fingertips against his cheek—

Suddenly, a flame erupted in the middle of his palm, startling him out of his thoughts. Swiftly, before anyone could notice, Zuko clasped his hands tightly together to smother it, wincing at the brief flash of heat against his skin, though it felt no different than her hand against his cheek. 

— — — — —

He didn’t know what to say, but the polite distance she was giving him every time he neared her was beginning to get on his nerves. To no one’s fault but his own, of course. 

Zuko waited for her to step away from Aang and Katara—he didn’t understand how they could still be talking after he had watched them talk nearly the whole time they were on Appa. Now that they had landed in the borders, he had anticipated being able to pull her to the side to finally talk, but she had stayed with Katara, still enthusiastically talking. When she finally stepped away from them to begin pulling some of the travel packs down, he stepped up quickly behind her to help, relieved for the excuse to speak with her.

“Oh, I got it,” she said, taking a step back from him so swiftly that she nearly tripped onto one of Appa’s legs. Zuko watched, incredulous, as she hoisted the pack over her shoulder with alarming ease.

“Let me help,” he insisted quietly, swallowing back both his dismay and irritation at her reaction, though he knew that there was no one to blame but himself. She looked like she was going to argue, so quickly, Zuko continued, “I’m supposed to play the role of the caring and attentive husband, remember?”

“Thank you then,” Xuan said after a moment of hesitation and Zuko took the pack from her.

When she was about to flit away again, he caught up with her doggedly. “Did you pack enough layers?”

“Yes, I packed extra robes,” she said, casting him a wary glance. That stung, more than he expected.

“That’s good,” he said, clearing his throat. He was running out of things to say already. “The borders can get chilly around this time of the year.”

“Yumi mentioned that,” she said as she followed him into the lodging. 

“If you find that you don’t have enough layers, we can always go and get some,” Zuko said, inwardly grimacing. He was sure that they were about to have the longest conversation about robes ever recorded in the Fire Nation.

“Thank you,” she said politely and then they fell into another strange silence as Zuko trailed after her towards the inn. And because he was following her so doggedly, when she stopped so suddenly, he nearly walked into her. “Fire Lord, can I make a request?”

He straightened swiftly in anticipation. Since she had arrived, the only things she had asked for were a few scrolls on the Fire Nation’s city planning and to attend meetings, and the memory of how he had responded still made Zuko grimace. If he was being honest, he was eager to make a better impression than he had with those requests. “Of course.” He cleared his throat, stepping around her to look at her fully. “Anything.”

“Can we both agree to forget about last night?” She said, grimacing.

Dismay sank in his chest heavily, like a stone thrown into a pond. The memory of her palm pressed against his cheek seared in his mind distractingly. He swallowed, but his throat was paper dry. “All of it?” 

“Yes,” she said, cheeks flushed. “I’m a bit embarrassed by the whole ordeal, truthfully. I didn’t mean to ask anything of you—I’m sorry. And I’ll respect your boundaries and wishes, of course, so you don’t have to avoid me and I hope you won't be uncomfortable around me—”

And now she was apologizing for it? Irritation flared in the pit of his stomach, hardening any anticipation into a coal. “I haven’t been thinking about it,” he said flatly, turning away from her. Ahead of them he could see the hostess frantically bowing to Aang. “And I wasn’t avoiding you. You have nothing to worry about.”

Of course he had been thinking about it. The warmth of her palm against his cheek, the smell of jasmine on her clothes, the glimmer of hope glinting in her eyes as she stared up at him. And then the mortification on her face when he effectively shut her down. It was impossible not to think about it.

“Oh,” Xuan said, blinking. “That’s good—”

“Fire Lord Zuko! It’s an honor to host you all,” the hostess beamed, falling into a full bow as she planted herself right in front of them.

“You’re already scowling,” Sokka hissed as he stepped up behind them to nudge at Zuko’s shoulder. Immediately, he tried to school his expression, but it didn’t seem to work because Katara spoke up.

“It’s a lovely place,” the waterbender said brightly, shooting him a sharp look. He grimaced before trying to channel his uncle’s serene expression, though it felt pained. “We’re grateful you were able to host us on such short notice.”

“Yes,” Zuko agreed hurriedly, “I love the…” He tore his gaze away from Xuan, who was still looking at him questioningly, to cast a quick glance around, before finishing lamely, “...lighting.”

Behind him, he could hear Toph snicker. The hostess didn’t seem to notice though because she beamed at him proudly. “We’ll have your bags delivered to your rooms,” the hostess said, “In the meantime, please feel free to use the bathhouse—we have the freshest spring water running through…”

“Remember the plan,” Sokka murmured to him and Xuan both as they followed the hostess through the lodging, as if Zuko wasn’t already painfully aware of Xuan’s hand at her side, just a reach away.

“May I ask the purpose of your travels?” The hostess asked conversationally.

Reflexively, Zuko glanced at Xuan, only to see her straighten, a determined glint flickering in her eyes. “Honeymoon,” she said without sparing him a glance. It was unconvincing, to say the least, especially when she added flatly, “Right, Fire— Darling?”

The endearment slammed in his mind like he had gotten hit on the head, which felt even more ridiculous, taking Xuan’s monotone tone and unchanging expression. Zuko cleared his throat, placing a tense hand on her shoulder. Even though they had agreed on all that hand-holding, Zuko couldn’t bring himself to do it. He would try again next time. Behind them, he could hear Sokka sigh. “Er, I wanted to show her more of the Fire Nation,” he said carefully. Actually, that wasn’t a lie at all. “She likes fruit, so I thought that the fruit groves along the beach would be a good place to start.”

“Oh, how sweet,” the hostess cooed. Zuko could feel his face burning. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Xuan looking at him, but he couldn’t see what kind of face she was making. When the hostess turned back around to continue their tour, he removed his hand swiftly from her shoulder and clasped his hands together tightly in the wide sleeves of his robes, just so that he would know where they were at all times.

It was going to be a long trip, he realized belatedly.

Chapter Text

Xuan, objectively, was having a great time.

Though it was still a bit surreal to casually be around the heroes of all their generation, the Avatar and Lady Katara were kind—Xuan was very sure that Linh would pass out after receiving a letter from Lady Katara—and the others were undeniably fun to be around—she had laughed to near tears at Sokka’s recount of their time in the desert. Flying on Appa was a dream come true and now she had a chance to see more of the Fire Nation past the capitol. The hostess had been friendly—and unsuspecting—and the food was delicious and the hot spring was luxurious.

Objectively, she was having a great time.

Still though, Xuan couldn’t shake off her feeling of unease. She needed to do well . She would perform her duties well, so well that no one would doubt her role as Fire Lady.

Her mother had always said she was as stubborn as a dragon moose, but her father had always framed it positively. When Xuan sets her target, she won’t stop until she hits it, dead in the center . Her father had always said that and she always remembered his words, on nights when the blisters on her hands stung so terribly that she could barely hold her chopsticks, when her muscles throbbed so achingly that it hurt to lie down. She had always been sure that with enough grit and hard work, she could hit her target.

But that had been war, and now, Xuan’s blisters and body had all healed, and the nature of the target was all different. She had gotten through her etiquette classes, familiarized herself with the Fire Nation’s history and culture, and had ideas for politics. Sokka had laid out a plan, and though it wasn’t any war room strategy, all Xuan had to do now was convince the masses that she really was Fire Lady on her own volition. It was easier said than done, of course, especially when her husband only seemed to tolerate her at best.

Well, Xuan thought as she leaned back on the bench in the garden, he did agree to all this and Sokka’s plan .

“I just have to do a good job,” she said aloud to herself.

“Do a good job with what?” 

She didn’t hear him as he approached. It was almost as if he had floated over. Granted, he could practically float, Xuan realized belatedly. All this to say that Xuan jumped with a start when his voice chirped behind her. 

“Mother Earth!” She exclaimed, startled before she turned to see the Avatar in his full regal glory. Xuan slapped a hand over her mouth, mortified at the realization that she had just cursed in front of the Avatar . “Sorry,” she blurted.

He merely shook his head, looking amused. “When you’ve been around Toph for this long, you’ve heard all variations of curse words—she can get quite creative with them,” he said before offering a sheepish smile. “And I’m the one who’s sorry—Katara is always telling me I need to make more noise when I walk. Habit.”

“Avatar Aang,” she said, regaining her composure to bow her head.

“Just Aang is fine, really.”

Xuan nodded wordlessly, unsure of what to say exactly. Even though he had told her that they were all fairly comfortable with each other, she still couldn’t shake off the amazement that she was speaking with the Avatar. Everyone in her village had grown up on stories of the Avatar, of course, and when the rumors came that he re-appeared it had been like a spark of hope lit in the village, even as the Fire Nation soldiers searched through the village.

As if sensing her tenseness, Aang gestured to the bench she sat on in the garden. She had broken away from their dinner festivities to go to the hot springs with Lady Katara, and now she was cooling off in the garden, her hair still damp against her back. The spring water from the mountains trickled in through a little stream—more decorative than anything—to the hot springs bathhouse. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“No, of course not,” she said hurriedly, scooting over to make room. “Just sobering up a bit more after washing up.”

Aang smiled. “I wish I could say that Sokka is doing the same, but he and Toph are on the third carafe.”

The inn had thrown a whole banquet to celebrate their visit. “You all must be tired,” the host said, before adding all in one breath, “But we’ve prepared a dinner to welcome you.” And thus began another long evening of festivities. Next to her, Zuko had sat, still and stone-faced, until Sokka had gotten up halfway through his toast to insist on a lover’s shot.

They had done as told, both guided by the pressure of Sokka glaring at them and the host’s expectant gaze. Zuko, eyes averted from hers and had sat perfectly still. And when it became apparent that he wasn’t going to move, Xuan had mumbled a “Excuse me” and interlinked her arm with his, careful not to touch him. He had been grasping his cup so tightly she was sure it was going to shatter. They downed their drinks hastily, pulling away silently once it had been done. 

It was clear he only tolerated her at best, and the reminder always stung more than she expected.

“Katara said that the hot springs were great though—granted, she’s more of a water person,” Aang continued conversationally, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“They were great,” Xuan agreed with a content sigh. “The Old Colonies used to have hot springs like that before the drought, but it’s been awhile.

Aang just nodded thoughtfully. A bit unnerved to be in silence with the Avatar, Xuan fidgeted and squeezed out some water from her hair. Several beats passed before he spoke up again.

“Forgive me if this is too personal,” Aang began, an apologetic look already on his face. Xuan wondered dimly if Katara could ever get mad at him. “But I couldn’t help but notice that your chi reads strangely.”

Xuan blinked, caught off guard. “You can tell?”

“Avatar trick,” he said with a shrug.

Xuan stared at him. “You can see chi,” she said, disbelievingly.

Aang looked embarrassed as he shook his head. “Not see, exactly. I—” He hesitated, his eyes flitting around thoughtfully. “Well, chi is all around us, right?”

Xuan nodded. She remembered hearing Linh say something about this from her readings. 

“Even the trees and flowers—” He gestured around the garden, then to the little stream. “—have some semblance of chi. It’s like a river that flows within each being, so when there’s a disturbance in it, I’m particularly sensitive to the disconnect. I can’t see it exactly, but I can feel it, I guess. Or when someone has a strong chi signature.”

“Do I have a strong chi signature?” She asked hopefully, leaning forward.

“No,” Aang said and, at her expression, let out a laugh, though it wasn’t mocking. “Yours is particularly weak.”

He sure doesn’t mince his words , Xuan thought. Disappointed, but not surprised, Xuan sat back down. “What’s a strong chi signature like?”

Aang hesitated, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “Feels like a thrum of energy,” he said after a moment. “Ah! Zuko has a strong chi signature. One of the strongest I’ve come across, outside of Azula’s and Katara’s.”

Xuan fell silent, trying to think back on Zuko to see if she had ever sensed anything. That night, his cheek had been hot against her hand. Recently, when he was around her, she did feel strangely jittery—was that chi? 

Aang continued, snapping her out of her thoughts. “Yours, though, is strange,” he said, peering at her. She felt like he was seeing right through her—he probably was, she thought, Avatar and all.

“Yes,” Xuan agreed, swallowing.

Aang squinted at her, a troubled expression flitting across his face briefly before it disappeared, like a ripple on a calm pond. “I’ve only seen a chi signature like yours once before,” he said quietly. Xuan felt something in her chest still, a cold numbness spread in her chest. “Seven years ago, with Ozai.”

“Yes,” Xuan said again, the word listless against her tongue. She swallowed, turning her gaze away from him to stare out into the garden. “There was an incident when I was young.”

The blast. The sharp pain against the base of her spine, and then the feeling of nothingness. Her father, slumping over onto her shoulder. The feeling of nothingness. Endless sleep. The feeling of nothingness. The healer crying as he apologized to her when she woke up. The feeling of nothingness.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Aang said, his tone regretful enough that she couldn’t fault him if she wanted to. “I didn’t realize. I can’t imagine—”

Of course not , the bitter part of her wanted to blurt out, despite herself. He was not only a bender, but the bender of all four elements. You could never understand , she wanted to say. Instead though, Xuan took a steadying breath.

“I’ve long grown past it,” she said, though her fingers twitched towards the earth out of habit. She hesitated, before turning to look back at the Avatar. “I’d prefer it if we kept this between us. Just for now, of course. I’d like to tell Fire Lord Zuko on my own terms.”

Xuan wasn’t a fool—she knew that it was only a matter of time before Zuko broke off their marriage or sent her off to Ember Island. And it was clear with how things were now that he only tolerated her. And yet, there was a foolish spark of hope in her chest that perhaps, just maybe , if she could prove her worth to him and the Fire Nation, that she could stay. And that hope recently had begun to rekindle each time he opened up to her more. But the realistic part of her was sure that if Zuko found out about this too early, he’d lose whatever miniscule faith he had in her and send her away or back. And then what use would she be? First, she needed to work hard to establish her value—she needed to do well . Then… Then she would tell him. And then maybe he would want her to stay.

“Of course,” Aang said sincerely, with the perfect, reassuring sage of a monk. “I don’t want to get your hopes up unnecessarily as I cannot promise any changes, but would you like me to try to read your chi?”

Xuan turned to look at him, trying to smother the dangerous flicker of hope in her chest. “Yes,” she swallowed. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Not any trouble at all,” the airbender said gently. He rolled his yellow sleeves back carefully and raised his hands towards her face. “May I?” 

She nodded, heart thudding nervously in her chest. He had said that there was no guarantee of anything, but still, anticipation thrummed through her body though she didn’t dare entertain the thought that her chi could be fixed.

Aang placed his palm against her cheek, his fingertips lightly against her temple.

Xuan wasn’t sure what she expected to feel—a rush of energy or some sort of probing?—but instead, she didn’t quite feel anything as she watched the Avatar’s brows furrow beneath his blue arrow. “It’s as I thought. It feels like your flow was redirected,” he mused.

“Redirected,” she repeated.

“Going back to the river—imagine waterbenders or earthbenders cutting off the flow to shape the river into a new direction. The water that had flowed in the original course past the point of change has now dried up.”

Xuan squinted at the airbender, trying to untangle his words. Who knew monks loved their proverbs and word riddles? “Is there anything you can do to… direct it back?” She asked after a moment.

He hesitated. “Energybending is dangerous and unstable—it requires a transfer from both parties. If the bender’s spirit is even slightly impure or bendable, they will be infected by the spirit of the one they’re bending.”

“But isn’t your spirit pure?” Xuan pressed, well aware she was venturing into presumptuousness, but still unable to help herself.

Aang gave her a wry smile and continued, though Xuan did not miss how he sidestepped her question gracefully. “It’s possible that the river hasn’t dried up, but is just blocked and flowing independently. I’ll consult my studies—”

“What are you doing to her?” 

Over the Avatar’s shoulder, Zuko stood past them, his expression perfectly impassive. His gaze slid between Xuan and the Avatar, to where the Avatar was still touching her face.

Xuan rose to her feet swiftly, her gaze darting to Aang. “Ah, the Avatar—”

“Aang,” the airbender corrected her again, floating to his feet with a gust of wind. There was a glimmer in his eye, teasing and playful, that made him look unexpectedly boyish. “I’ll leave you two to it,” he said, giving her a nod, his expression neutral though Xuan didn’t miss the meaning. I’d like to tell Fire Lord Zuko on my own terms. In other words, the Avatar was no help.

Once he left, Xuan was painfully aware that Zuko hadn’t once moved from where he stood, his back perfectly straight with tension and his expression still and stony. He was scowling at her again, brow pinched. It had been awhile since he had scowled at her. He hadn’t even scowled at her that morning, even when it was clear he was in a terrible mood and even after that terribly awkward night they had. To see that expression again left a sharp twinge in her chest. The ache in her chest throbbed so painfully that Xuan, who had always been a terrible liar, blurted, “Aang was reading my chi.”

Xuan held her breath, heart hammering in her chest. Was he going to press her about her chi? She could see it all play out in her mind as seconds of silence passed between them. He would know that there was something wrong with her, something unfixable, no matter what she did—even the Avatar just said he couldn’t fix her. And then he would send her off to Ember Island to idle away her days, forgotten and alone, or he’d send her back home, where Xuan would have to live with the crushing knowledge that she had failed again. “I was right to not trust you in the beginning,” he would say, eyes narrowed again in distrust, like the very first time he saw her. “We would have never chosen you from the start had we known how burdensome—”

“Oh,” Zuko said instead, his one brow collapsing in confusion, though she could see the tension seep out of his shoulders rapidly. “I see,” he said after a moment, in a tone that very much still sounded bemused. “I thought he was—” He stopped abruptly, a blotch of pink coloring his unscarred cheek before he shook his head swiftly. “Well, never mind.”

Xuan stared at the uncharacteristically boyish expression on his face, bewildered, but relieved when he didn’t press for more. The strange mix of unease and relief she was feeling was mirrored on his face before he turned to look around the garden.

“Did you need anything, Fire Lord Zuko?” She asked carefully as she watched him. His hair was damp and shiny, a warm flush on his skin from the hot springs. Xuan tried not to stare, and it became increasingly difficult as he turned around to frown at her.

“Do I have to need something?”

Xuan blinked. “What?”

Zuko’s frown collapsed and he turned away again. “Never mind,” he muttered, and Xuan was struck with the image of a petulant child. “And aren’t you supposed to just call me Zuko now?”

“Oh,” Xuan said, shifting from foot to foot. “Right. Habit.” Titles had always been important in the military, but beyond that, calling him without his title felt strange. 

“My uncle always says it takes practice to break a habit,” Zuko said softly, looking at her again. Though they weren’t standing close to each other, it somehow felt like he had closed the distance between them. Xuan wasn’t sure if the flush in his cheeks was from the hot springs or if he was drunk from dinner. She figured it must be the latter, given that he had been avoiding looking at her the entire day.

“That’s true,” Xuan agreed slowly, that jittery feeling thrumming through her again. Was it possible for someone’s chi to be so strong that it affected another person’s chi? The Avatar had said that Zuko’s was particularly strong, and hers particularly weak. “Um, well—” She cleared her throat, determined. “Did you need something… darling?”

Zuko stared down at her for a beat longer before he turned away, stifling a laugh, much to her surprise. “It sounds as though I am holding you hostage,” he said, face still turned away from her, shoulders shaking. 

How unfair , she thought lamely to herself, feeling stumped. He avoided and frowned at her the whole day only to laugh and she couldn’t even see it to enjoy it.

Miffed and embarrassed, she straightened. “It’s not like you’ve called me anything other than Fire Lady Xuan.” Not that she minded, really. If anything she hoped it served as a reminder that she was Fire Lady—

“Xuan.”

Her gaze snapped up to look at him and she was expecting him to be looking away from her again, but instead, she was met with warm eyes, the color of light from a setting sun. His voice was soft and surprisingly steady, like he had said it a thousand times before, and his expression was sober, any remnant of his previous laughing gone. Xuan’s mouth went dry and her palms tingled. 

Strong chi , she thought dimly to herself as she stared at him stupidly.

“See? Not hard at all,” Zuko said, finally turning away from her again. He cleared his throat. “Anyways, I came to get you—the hostess said the room is ready.”

As it turned out, Zuko had not seen the room prior to coming to get her—at least that was what Xuan gathered from his reaction after he led her down one of the halls and slid the panel door open. Zuko was so painfully pale that any flush of color was terribly obvious—for a moment, Xuan stared in dim awe at the scarlet that rose steadily from his neck, to his cheeks, to his ears, before she turned to follow his stricken gaze to the source of his clear anguish.

“You can sleep in here,” Zuko said sharply as he surveyed the small room. Understandably, given that they were married , the hostess had only prepared one room, with one bed—a wide, plush bed right in the center of the room. Above the bed was a large lantern, intricately crafted out of paper and delicate wood.  “I’ll go down to the stables for the night.”

“The stables,” she echoed, incredulous. The image of the Fire Lord sleeping in the stables was so ridiculous that Xuan let out a startled laugh, though it was quickly stifled by his entirely serious expression.

“We used to sleep on Appa all the time,” he said, already stepping back towards the door.

Xuan stepped in front of him swiftly, brow arched as she slid the door shut behind her. “You most definitely will not.”

Zuko started, his gaze darting from her to the door to the bed in rapid succession. “You’re not suggesting we both sleep in this room?” 

“Of course not,” she said, nodding towards the bed. You’ve told me enough times that you don’t want to , she wanted to say, but the memory of the night where he had turned her down still filled her up with embarrassment. “That’s for you. I’ll stand here and— Well— I’ll… keep guard.”

His expression collapsed into an incredulous scowl. “You most definitely will not,” he parroted, stepping now in between her and the door to block her.

“You’re not safe, Fire Lord—”

“ Darling ,” he corrected. “Or you so sweetly called me just earlier.” His words came out with an unexpected bitterness before his expression schooled carefully, “We’re supposed to be smitten newly-weds on our honeymoon.”

Xuan bit the inside of her cheek. “But—”

“And you’re not a guard, you’re the Fire Lady.”

“But part of my responsibility is to keep you safe—” She protested. It had been one of the reasons she was chosen by that old man—he had told her about the assassination attempts and she had accepted it readily.

“This is probably one of the safest places to be right now—the Avatar and Katara are in the room across from ours. Suki and Sokka are down the hall. Toph is still probably awake.”

She pressed her lips together. “Very well,” she said finally.

“So I will be going down to the stables tonight,” he said, looking irritatingly pleased and smug.

“You most definitely will not ,” she said. “You just said that we’re supposed to be smitten newly-weds on our honeymoon.”

“I— You mean— You’re okay with us sleeping together?” He blurted, eyes darting from the bed to her and back again. Xuan could see the color rising back in his face and she stifled back a sigh.

“I told you before that I’m not uncomfortable about it,” she reminded him matter-of-factly. She cleared her throat uncomfortably. “I made a mistake the other night and I won’t make it again. I’ll respect all your boundaries, of course. But if you’d prefer, I’ll go ask for another—”

“No,” he blurted, running a hand over his face. He squeezed out a laugh. Xuan stared at the flash of emotions flickering across his face, but they were too fast and strange to understand. “I’m not uncomfortable,” he sniffed rather unconvincingly, turning away from her sharply, but she could still see his scarlet ears. “And we can’t ask for another room. They’ll talk. It won’t be a good look. Very well. We’ll share the room.” He said this all in choppy succession, more to himself than her.

He was still rambling to himself as Xuan gathered a pillow and blanket into her arms, but when she turned back to him, he was seated on the ground on his knees, his posture stiff.

“What are you doing?” She asked, frowning now. “There’s a bed.”

He started, face ablaze now. “We can’t possibly share —”

“The bed is for you, Fire Lord—” She paused, raising her voice and angling it towards the door as if someone were listening. “ Darling .” In a quieter voice, she nodded to the ground as she began to lay out a blanket. “I’ll sleep here.”

“I will not let a lady sleep on the ground,” he snapped, scrambling back to his feet.

Xuan sat back on her heels and gave him an unimpressed look. “I’ve slept in the dirt before.”

“You’re the Fire Lady!”

“And you’re the Fire Lord.”

“I’m sleeping here ,” he said firmly. “And you are sleeping there .”

“Is that an order as Fire Lord?” She challenged, levying him an even stare.

“I—” Zuko stumbled over his words ungracefully before his shoulders deflated. “No, of course not.”

“Wonderful,” Xuan said, both pleased and smug. “Then I’ll be here.”

“Fine,” he said gruffly. “Then as Fire Lord and very much in charge of my own will, I’ll also be here.”

“Fine,” she agreed, equally exasperated. “But you better not scowl tomorrow if you wake up with a sore back!”

They both glared at each other in a stony silence before she finally broke away to lie down on the makeshift pile of blankets she had made. She had slept in worse, she thought, as she closed her eyes and tugged the blanket to her chin. After a few moments, she realized she didn’t hear any sounds of movement or cloth rustling, so she peeked an eye open.

Zuko was still frozen as he stood in the middle of the room staring down at her, his gaze like molten gold. Xuan swallowed again, but her throat was dry.

“Are you going to stand guard?” 

He blinked, breaking out of his stupor before he grabbed the remaining blanket and pillow off the bed, his movement stiff as the scowl returned to his face. 

The room wasn’t terribly large—in fact, the unused bed took up most of the space—so even when he set his blanket as far away from her on the ground as possible, it left only about a foot in between them. There would have been more space between them on the bed, she thought wryly to himself, though she knew that they were both too proud to go back against what they had said. Not to mention the implication of sharing the bed was much different than the ground.

“I’ll bend out the candle,” Zuko said from next to her. 

“Okay,” she said instead, words muffled into the blanket. “Thank you.”

From where it hung above them, the candle in the lantern flared suddenly. And then, all at once, the lantern’s paper and wood seemed to catch on fire, consumed by a giant flame.

Xuan gaped up at it from where she lay on the ground, startled, as Zuko scrambled to his feet, muttering a string of curses as he waved his arms frantically. Just as swiftly, the flame died out, plunging the room into sudden darkness and leaving behind a now-paperless lantern, the wood blackened and charred.

I thought he has strong chi , Xuan thought, as she sat up to stare at the mess of the smouldering lantern. She had also heard from the stories that his father, sister, and him were all the strong firebenders. She turned her gaze to Zuko. She could only see his frame illuminated by the moon, but she could see that he was trying to fan out the smoke through the window.

“Sorry,” he said, sounding sheepish as he sat back down on the ground.

After confirming that the lantern was indeed out—though still smoking—Xuan lied back down. “It’s fine,” she said. Lying on her back, Xuan couldn’t see him clearly, but she could see the outline of his broad back in her peripheral vision. He was lying with his back to her. Typical, she thought, stifling back a sigh as she closed her eyes.

As she drifted off to sleep to the faint smell of smoke, Xuan wasn’t sure if it was a figment of her coming dream or reality when she heard a soft, “Good night, Xuan."

Chapter Text

Xuan hadn’t been that cozy since there had been that snowstorm in the mountains when she was still a child, when her father had piled blankets and blankets on to her and Dao and left them in a giggling mess until they fell asleep against each other. She was always normally so warm in the Fire Nation, but for once, it wasn’t a smothering, oppressive heat. No, this one was surprisingly pleasant, like standing next to the hearth in the winter. And Xuan was unreasonably comfortable, her limbs heavy and numb with sleep.

Dimly, she wondered if her mom was making dumpling seaweed soup like she had that snowy day and instinctively, Xuan inhaled deeply, trying to catch a scent of her favorite soup. Instead though, strangely, all she could breathe in was the scent of something subtle, like sun-baked laundry and jasmine tea. It was pleasant though, lulling even, and Xuan found herself breathing in deeply again to chase that scent, easily falling back into a light doze as she clung onto her sleepiness. The warmth and comforting smell made it easy.

We’ll have to clear that pathway of snow later, Xuan thought dreamily to herself as she burrowed further into that comforting warmth. And then two things occurred at once. The first was she had the bleary realization that the mountains hadn’t had any snow or rain in years now, what with the drought. And the second was that as she shuffled closer to the warmth, the blanket seemed to shift a little in a very un-blanket manner. In fact, it seemed to tug her closer.

Her breath lodged in her throat like a fish bone. Xuan’s eyes shot open at the feeling of large hands splayed across the plane of her back, pressed so firmly against her that she could feel the shape of each long finger, the arm that was wound around her waist somehow tightening even further around her body. And when she opened her eyes, she was struck with a very close view of the long column of Zuko’s throat, her nose pressed against somewhere below his collarbone and his chin tucked neatly over her head. 

For the first time ever, Xuan had no idea what to do. For the first time ever, she was also glad that she wasn’t an earthbender anymore, because she was very sure that rocks would have gone flying or that the ceiling would have collapsed down on them as her mind short-circuited.

She exhaled slowly, suddenly conscious of every point of contact between them. Which was to say, well, everywhere. Gingerly, she attempted to shift, but the movement triggered a soft huff from Zuko, whose hands tightened and twisted in her sleep clothes. He stirred a little, his soft breath sending her hair fluttering lightly as he seemed to burrow closer to her still. Xuan froze, holding her breath for a moment before she tried to untangle herself again. This time, Zuko made a small noise of complaint at the back of his throat, his brows furrowing a little. “Mm,” he mumbled, his breath hot against her forehead as he let out a soft sigh and relaxed his hold on her. Xuan slowly peeled her head back from his neck, but a quick glance at his face showed that he was still sleeping deeply. 

Asleep, Zuko looked young and boyish, the wear of his past gone and instead replaced by a relaxed expression. He looked angelic, his ink hair shiny and soft as they framed his face. Soft morning light slanted across his face in yellow hues. Was it wrong to want to stay like this, Xuan wondered, feeling the pang in her chest as she gazed at him. She likely would have continued admiring him quietly, if he didn’t stir again and tug her back to his chest again. 

It wasn’t going to be possible to move, she thought to herself, heart thumping unevenly, as she felt his other hand slide into her hair to cradle the back of her head. She closed her eyes, lulled back by his warmth as she tried to think. Now she couldn’t even move her head back, not without waking him, and Xuan could only imagine the heart attack he would get if she woke him up like this. Think, she commanded herself, trying to turn over her options in her mind like war strategies. But Zuko was so warm, and he smelled so terribly good, and it was all a fog lulling her back into treacherous dreams.

— — — — —

When she awoke again, she was noticeably colder. Xuan sat up and saw that the side that Zuko had slept on was cleared, the blankets folded into a neat pile on the bed. Any remnants of the smoldering lantern was also gone. As was any sign of her husband. 

Unsure of what time it was, Xuan got ready swiftly, and when she left the room, Suki was standing outside, back in her full Kyoshi Warrior attire and makeup.

“Good morning,” the Kyoshi Warrior said cheerfully. “Zuko just asked me to see if you were awake. The meeting with the local administration begins soon.”

Xuan blinked, half-pleased and half-relieved to be included in their politics. “He should have woken me up,” she muttered half-heartedly, before memories of a few hours earlier rushed back in her head. Well, I can see why he didn’t, she thought, embarrassed now as she followed Suki down the hall.

In the room, a handful of officials were seated on the mats. On a platform at the front of the room sat Zuko, dressed in his formal crimson robes, the gold glint of the Fire Lord headpiece in his hair. It was good that she had chosen one of her more formal robes as well, though still, as she stood in the doorway, Xuan hesitated, unsure of whether she should join the officials in the seating. To her relief, she caught Zuko tucking the long length of his robes closer to his body, revealing a cushion next to him. He didn’t look at her directly, but it seemed as close to an invitation as she was getting.

Xuan straightened, setting her shoulders as she forced herself to walk to him with steady steps, though the eyes of each official felt like an added weight. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see them rise and bow, though none of the bows were as deep as what Lady Hoshi had said was normal. Judging by the tight expression on Zuko’s face, she could see that he noticed it as well.

Xuan sat down carefully next to Zuko. “Apologies for waking up late,” she murmured to him. “Has the meeting already started?”

Zuko shook his head, his eyes trained away from her carefully. “No, we’re serving tea first.” As if on cue, the door opened and attendants swept in with small cups and tea pots. The aroma of jasmine tea filled the air, and it would have been comforting, had it not brought the memory of that morning back to her. “My uncle says it puts everyone in a better mood to negotiate.”

“Wise man,” Xuan agreed.

Unfortunately, Zuko’s uncle seemed to be wrong in the case. As the meeting began and continued, officials rattled their complaints and grievances off like fireworks. One province was facing a shortage of wheat with the farmers rebelling against the Domestic Forces. Another province had a skirmish between the people and off-duty benders in the Domestic Forces. The general of the Domestic Forces, a long-faced man donning dark robes, reported that his soldiers were facing insubordination from locals they were trying to help.

“I have a proposition,” Xuan said, forcing her voice to be level though she could feel something like nerves thrumming through her. “I’d like to train the bender soldiers on de-escalation techniques that don’t require bending.”

The idea had come to her the night prior, during her conversation with Aang about redirecting energy. If Zuko pulled back the Domestic Forces, the officials and soldiers were sure to take a stance against him. If Zuko supported the Domestic Forces, then he lost the support of the people. It had seemed to her that the root of the problem was the imbalance of power between the Domestic Forces and the people, and further, the imbalance between benders and non-benders.

“The Fire Lady wishes to ban bending?” An official rose to his feet, incredulous.

“This is exactly why the throne only ever married benders,” another said. Something in Xuan twisted and shrank. “She has no right to the throne—”

“Enough.” Around them, the flames in the lanterns shot up, blanketing the room in a brief, uncomfortable heat. “I will not tolerate any doubt of Fire Lady Xuan’s right to the throne. Anything more will be seen and treated as treason of the highest degree. Is that understood?”

The soft murmurs of assent were drowned out by the rush of blood in Xuan’s ears.  She felt ill. Zuko stood up for her now, yes, but what about when he found that there was something unfixable about her? That not only was she a non-bender, but she had lost it all? That she was weak. Unfit. A burden—

Something warm covered where her fist was balled under the robes of her sleeves. Xuan looked down, blinking out of her stupor to see Zuko’s hand over her sleeves. “Xuan?” When she met his gaze, he nodded at her encouragingly, which only made that wretched feeling in her chest worsen.

Now is not the time, she thought to herself, inhaling slowly as she turned back to the officials. Perhaps she was unfit for the role, but they didn’t know that yet. She stared at the first man that spoke up, forcing her gaze to be steady despite her roiling thoughts.

“What was it that I had said?” She asked him directly.

“I— You said that bending would be banned—” The man’s eyes slid over to Zuko helplessly, but Xuan continued before he could cut in.

“I see that your attention is elsewhere. I implore you to pay attention before jumping to conclusions,” Xuan said evenly, before turning to the rest of the room. “Can anyone repeat what I had said or was no one listening?”

An uneasy murmur rippled through the room before the general stepped forward. His robes were more decorated than the previous officials.

“I believe that she said she wishes to train the bender soldiers on non-bending techniques,” the general said.

“De-escalation techniques,” Xuan nodded.

“I’ve heard you were a general yourself,” he continued.

So he’s done his research, she thought.

“As a general, you must have learned that respect with soldiers is earned, not…” His lip curled as he finished, “...decreed. They won’t listen to you.” He paused, before adding slowly, “With all due respect, Fire Lady.”

“That’s to be expected,” Xuan agreed, straightening. “It seems that it isn’t only the soldiers here that are less generous with their respect.” She turned to Zuko, setting her shoulders. “With your permission and the general’s consent, I’d like to organize a match.”

“A match,” the general repeated. “Between who?”

“Myself and any of your soldiers. No bending, to show that de-escalation techniques don’t need bending to be effective.”

Another murmur rippled through the officials, this time more intrigued and amused. Next to her, Zuko straightened, his expression alarmed, but Xuan kept her gaze steady on the general. She could see the interest on his face. He had nothing to lose in this scenario—if anything, she was sure that he was tempted by the opportunity to embarrass her in her own suggestion. And, more than that, she knew that soldiers loved a good, honorable match. And all generals were soldiers at some point.

“We can organize that,” he said finally, nodding. 

One down, Xuan thought, turning to Zuko questioningly. Her eyes met Zuko’s and distractingly, the memory of his hand pressed against her back flashed in her mind. Though she controlled her gaze as well as she could have, she couldn’t contain the heat rushing up the nape of her neck. Fortunately—and expectedly—Zuko looked away first, his stern expression turned skittish. 

“Are you sure?” He asked, quiet enough only for her to hear.

“Yes,” she said, clearing her throat. This part of her plan had been the biggest gamble. Zuko’s trust fluctuated like fire, more often than not something that burned her over and over again each time his walls went up. “If you’ll trust me with this, I won’t let you down.”

— — — — —

Something like anxiety and regret twisted into a knot in Zuko’s stomach. He studied the soldier that the general had chosen. Kuros was broad-shouldered and muscular—Zuko could tell he was a formidable firebender just from his stature. Clearly, the general had wanted to make a point and win to both embarrass the Fire Lady’s rule and gain more political independence. If Xuan’s plan didn’t work, there would be no recovery in trying to fix how the Domestic Forces operated.

More than that though, Zuko felt that anxious feeling spike each time his gaze glanced over Xuan. 

“I have to tell you that the sword is my advantage,” Xuan said rather plainly, her expression serious as she knotted the sash around her hips.

Kuros nodded, his gaze flickering distractedly to the crowd of soldiers. From his position on the balcony, Zuko could see the poorly hidden smiles of amusement as they began to gather around. “Of course, Fire Lady,” he said, with only a bow of his head. “I hope you won’t hold back. I think I can take it.”

Xuan didn’t seem to pay any mind to his insincere bow—maybe she didn’t notice or maybe she didn’t care. Instead, she smiled a little, looking unexpectedly pleased. “That’s good,” she said, nodding. 

“Stop worrying,” Suki said from next to him. She was in her full gear and makeup, the image of a fierce warrior. Zuko had asked her to attend, in case anything went awry. He had also asked Toph to attend for the same reason. 

“You can’t break up the fight yourself?” The earthbender had asked with an arched eyebrow.

“It would be a political mess if I stepped in,” he had explained. More than that though, he didn’t trust himself to maintain his calm if something did happen. The image of Xuan lying on the cot flashed through his mind again, a sight which he wished he could erase.

“Your heartbeat is making it hard to see things,” Toph muttered under her breath. 

Zuko forced himself to still, though it was hard to fight back the nerves. 

“It’ll be fine,” Suki continued. “Since coming to the palace, Xuan has been training with the Kyoshi Warriors and holds her ground well. You should have more faith in her.”

Faith. Trust. Everyone was always demanding these things from him. Xuan gave these things to him too easily and he didn’t know what to do with them but hold her trust in his hands like broken glass. He shook the thought from his mind swiftly, paranoid that Toph would feel that spike in his heartbeat again.

“Prepare.” Zuko called down, the word like glass in his throat. 

A warrior’s initial stance is the first indicator of their skill, his master had told Zuko this over and over again when he first started training—he first had to master his stances and hold them for hours. The horse stance reflects not just a mastery of form, but the precision and depth of your training.

It was because Zuko was well practiced that he felt a sense of anticipation as he watched her slide her feet out carefully into a balanced stance, her posture precise as she levied the wooden training sword in her hand. She had initially asked they duel with real swords, but that had been where Zuko had drawn the line.

Kuros mirrored her stance, looking relaxed.

“Commence.”

Zuko had expected some initial idling, some circling for the both of them to size each other up. Instead though, he watched, a bit dumbfounded, as Xuan slid her foot forward swiftly, her arm leading the motion in one decisive arc to clash against Kuros’s sword. Kuros, who had been too relaxed in his posture and hold, jolted, his sword nearly clattering out of his hand though he managed to re-grasp it. There was little time for him to react otherwise though as Xuan slipped forward again, her footwork exact and her sword moving with vigor as she struck him in the other direction. His sword clattered to the ground in the same beat as the tip of her wooden sword pressed against his chest.

Zuko stared, dumbfounded, his mind unable to keep up with the swift turn of events. Next to him, Toph whooped, breaking the confused silence that had fallen.

“Again!” Kuros sputtered as she lowered her sword. 

Xuan nodded, her expression unchanging as she stepped back and reset into her stance. 

“Commence,” Zuko said, his voice distant to his own ears as he watched her carefully, something warm growing in his chest. 

Kuros was prepared for the immediate attack this time. He parried it off, and the next one, slipping in a wide lunge as he tried to push forward against her. But Zuko had been correct in his assessment of her—she was practiced, the blade moving like an extension of her arm. While Kuros’s blows were strong and powerful, Xuan’s abilities manifested in different areas. Her swordsmanship was practical and steady, her form sharp and decisive. She moved with the liquid grace of a koishark, her sword cutting past his defense with an elegant ease he had not seen in her before. Xuan was a wraith with a sword.

Her sword slipped centimeters from Kuros neck.

She had a breathless grin on her face, her eyes bright and blazing as she side-stepped his attack. Kuros had surged forward, his stance too wide. Xuan smacked the flat part of her sword against the side of his knee. Zuko huffed a laugh as he watched her slip back, stepping past Kuros’s strike with just enough space, her footwork sure-footed and nimble. He watched as Kuros’s expression grew more determined and frustrated, the man’s chest heaving in exertion as he tried to catch her with a strike from above. In one fluid motion, Xuan slammed the butt of her sword into his incoming hand and when he recoiled, she thumped the flat part of her sword against his side. 

She’s stunning. The thought emerged so suddenly, so loudly, in his mind, catching him by surprise like a monsoon during a drought, strange and powerful, but welcome. 

Zuko’s mouth went dry as he watched her plunge forward swiftly into a lunge, her arm cutting with a practiced precision, the lines of muscles corded in her bicep sharp and defined.

Her normal Earth Kingdom robes had hidden much of her build, Zuko realized dimly, as his eyes tracked over the motion of her movement, trailing from the sinewy definition in her arms bared by the sleeveless maroon tunic, to her trim waist. She was lean and lithe, her figure defined by the kind of athletic muscle formed from years of conditioning. Promising hips for child-bearing, Lady Hoshin’s words rang in his ears again. At that time, Zuko’s face had flushed a dark red as he ordered her out, but now, he couldn’t help but follow the curve of her waist where it swelled out into—

Zuko dragged his gaze up forcibly. But though he wasn’t looking at her anymore, he could feel the plane of her back against his hands, the memory of that morning seared into his mind. He could feel the warmth of her skin pressed against his, the tangle of her hair against his jaw, her breath soft against his neck. When he had woken up that morning, he had left the room immediately, feeling as though every part of him was on fire.

Beneath his hands, the wooden rail cracked, catching Suki’s attention and snapping Zuko out of his memories. “We should send some money for them to better invest in their… uh, infrastructure,” Zuko said hurriedly, turning his gaze back to the match. At some point, their third round had finished.

“Again?” Xuan asked eagerly as she lifted Kuros’s sword from the ground and offered it to him.

Kuros looked at her, incredulous, but Zuko could see that she wasn’t teasing him, her expression entirely serious. And a little hopeful. Something like amusement or endearment swelled so violently in his chest that he felt a little dizzy.

“No,” Kuros said, his face red from both exertion and embarrassment. “I yield.”

She relaxed from her stance, plunging the sword into the sand to stretch her arms above her head, the motion throwing her arms into sharp relief, her tunic rising to bare a sliver of gold skin above her waistline. Despite himself, Zuko stared before forcing his eyes up again, though any futile effort of saving his dignity was immediately foiled as he focused instead on the beads of sweat sliding from her temple down the curve of her jaw, to the slope of her neck. Suddenly his vision throbbed with the image of his fingers, following the same trail, down the frame of her face, across her collarbone to touch the constellation of freckles on her shoulders, where the sun had generously richened them to a tawny blessing. Something like heat unfurled in the pit of his stomach.

“Zuko?” Suki’s voice snapped him from the image and he looked up to see the Kyoshi Warrior staring at him with concern. He blinked in confusion before the smell of smoke filled his nose next. His hands were smoldering, trails of smoke winding up his sleeves.

He swiped his hands against robes, mortified. Spirits, was he a green student or something? The night prior he had also bent the lantern into a giant flame. Something is wrong, he thought, curling his hands into fists. 

“She did well,” he said gruffly, trying to divert attention away from his hands.

Suki nodded, looking pleased. 

“You’re strong, but you’ll waste all your stamina if you exert that much strength into each movement,” she was saying to Kuros, who was nodding with growing passion. “It’s not like firebending, where you might have to have a threshold of power with each flame.”

“I see,” Kuros said solemnly, levying the sword in his hand. “What do you suggest?”

Zuko turned away from the training ground, his palms and chest still warm. “It looks like we had nothing to worry about,” he murmured.

Suki shot him a sidelong smile. “I wasn’t worried, personally,” the Kyoshi Warrior said, her gaze flicking to his smoking palms.

From the platform below, Xuan glanced up at him and beamed brightly, clearly pleased and proud. He nodded once down at her, embarrassed to have been caught staring. He cleared his throat as he turned away.

Zuko pressed his palms into his robes again, though it did little to quell the growing heat that began to unfurl in his chest like a phoenix unfurling its wings for the first time, steady and warm and undeniable.