CHAPTER 1/5 | You Seem Pretty Sad for a Girl So in Love...
"I keep looking for distractions, hope the feeling passes but I've got to say, it's getting harder everyday."
Chapter 1: What's Wrong With Me?
PAIRING: Aang x Reader |vs.| Zuko x Reader
SYNOPSIS: You spent several years loving Aang—waited through missed anniversaries, forgotten birthdays, unfinished conversations, and promises meant with all the sincerity in the world. You knew loving Aang would also mean that you understood that he is also the Avatar. What you never expected was that healing from the sadness you felt while loving him would lead you back to the one person who had never left your side—your childhood best friend, Zuko. As old promises linger and new beginnings take root, you must decide whether love is found in the person you waited for or the person who stayed.
CHAPTER CONTENTS: Reader is 18! at the start of the story (her age gets narrated as time goes in the story), female!reader, noble!reader, reader works for the Fire Nation, yearning, pining, childhood friends (Zuko and Reader), reader having a fever, Uncle Iroh wisdom, slight angst (I think?)
WARNINGS: None | No beta, we die like Gojo
This is for those who thought love was supposed to hurt and for those who kept waiting. <3
He grew up surrounded by cruelty within the very bloodline that started the Hundred Year War. Aside from his mother and Uncle Iroh, kindness was never something freely given to him.
As a child, Zuko was raised believing that fear meant strength and that power meant virtue. It took him years, losing almost everything to realize that the values forced into his mind were never righteous to begin with.
So, Zuko tried to be a good man.
Yes, he had chased the avatar for a year, hurt him and his friends, even hiring Sparky-sparky-boom man after them, but then he also found redemption.
He helped end the Hundred Year War even at the cost of his own honor, turned against his father, and spent years rebuilding a world his nation once tried to destroy. He helped create Republic City—a place where all nations could stand together instead of against each other.
In simpler terms, Zuko was willing to give the Avatar whatever he needed.
For peace.
For balance.
For the future of the world.
Spirits— he really wanted to be a good man so bad.
He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
No matter how hard he tried to forget all of the virtues that the Fire Nation has taught him in order to become a better man, there was still one belief he could never let go of.
The Fire Nation raised its children to believe that taking what was meant for them was not theft.
So in the end, Zuko accepts that he can never be a good man.
Because if he were, then it would mean that he should have let you go a decade ago—Zuko should have let you go.
And that was something he will never ever do.
He can never fully let go of you.
That was why right now, he was looking at you pluck the grass between your fingertips absentmindedly while you sniffle your cold away.
You had been sitting there, on the big park of Republic City, alone for several hours already, waiting for someone you didn’t even know when would be back.
“You do realize you’ve already caught a cold, right?” Zuko takes off his own outer royal robes that he had worn earlier at the Council of the Republic City, then places them on your shoulders.
You smile as Zuko sits beside you. Normally, you would have asked him to get up, that a Fire Lord shouldn’t be sitting so lousily on the grass of an open field, but you were too exhausted to say so.
“It’ll be gone in the morning.” You shrug at him.
Lie. You knew it won’t. Still you waited on the park, hoping that you’ll hear a growl from a certain sky bison up in the moonlit night sky.
“Want me to stay? I can wait with you.” Bad was an understatement to describe how Zuko is at comforting someone. He was self-aware of it, so he refrains wanting to stay with anybody and giving them their own space.
So, hearing him offer you this kind of support was a surprise to you despite being a decade of being friends—even best friends with each other.
You chuckle after sniffling. “Okay.” You answer, smiling at him.
Zuko opens his palm, conjuring a warm fire in between the two of you. The fire was hot enough too keep you both warm, but not enough to burn either of you.
“I'm a firebender too, you know?” You sit up straight and make fire within your fingertips, slightly bigger than Zuko’s almost iridescent fire—something that he has practiced and learned from the dragons themselves.
Zuko didn’t back down. He made his fire bigger, careful with controlling it, but big enough to impress and boast on you. “Mine is bigger.” He declares.
You cannot believe him. The Fire Lord that everyone in the Fire Nation looked up to, the one that the Council is terrified from, was here provoking you on a firebending battle that was inevitably going to start right now.
You stand up, shaking away the small ember on your hands to laugh at Zuko. “You are so childish, Zuko.” Shaking your head as you said so, but already surpassing the size of his fire.
You stuck your tongue out as you faced him with your fire. “Mine is prettier and bigger— hey!”
Apparently, Zuko does not do so well when someone sticks his tongue out at him to taunt him. He becomes… petty. He used his on flame to try to put out yours while you try to run away.
“Yours is smaller now! I win!” Zuko declares while chasing you around the empty park.
“It’s because you’re chasing me! The wind—!” You try to explain but Zuko does not seem to slow down or give you time to explain.
“We aren’t even competing!” Well, that was a good blatant lie to tell as if the two of you—two of the most important figures of the Fire Nation was running around the empty park of Republic City as if you two were kids.
The sound of your laughter, your huffs mixed with your bargaining for Zuko to stop chasing you, brought him back some childhood memories from Ember Island where he first met you.
You were just 6 years old and Zuko was 3 years older than you.
Your paternal grandfather was the newly appointed governor for Ember Island.
The title alone was enough to place your family frighteningly closer to the royal family itself , which was exactly how a six year-old you ended up being dragged into the royal summer estate while complaining loudly about the heat.
You were at Ember Island for a nice vacation with your family. You wanted to congratulate your grandfather for becoming a governor, wanting to spend time with your grandparents, your father's side of the family, and to play on the beach with your dolls.
Instead, you were dragged to meet the royal family.
Zuko remembers it clearly the first time you met each other.
You had bowed improperly to back then, Prince Ozai, but bowed so gracefully to Princess Consort Ursa.
Played around the massive water fountain outside then being scolded by a random royal servant.
And somehow managed to step on Azula’s foot immediately after.
You were a disaster (at least on Zuko's perspective back then. In his eyes, you were just too noticeable that he couldn't look away from you.)
Yet instead of fearing the royal residence the way most children and your cousins did, you wandered through it with endless curiosity and absolutely no self-preservation whatsoever.
And for some reason… you attached yourself to Zuko almost instantly.
“Why are you so quiet?” You had asked him on the very first day while sitting beside him near the beach and you were busy building sand castles.
You felt pity for Zuko because almost every kid on Ember Island avoided him and you didn’t want him to be alone, so you invited (more like forced) him to play on the sand with you.
Nine year-old Zuko frowned at you suspiciously. “Why do you talk so much?”
Your mouth dropped open dramatically before shoving sand toward his feet. “That’s rude.”
“You’re rude.” Zuko retorts.
“You’re ugly.” You rebut.
It was a universal argument ender/destroyer for an enemy and you wanted to shut Zuko up.
Zuko nearly combusted on the spot from outrage. How dare you—a granddaughter of a governor from a noble clan that his father has mentioned multiple times, someone who did not bow at him nor fear him, someone that pulled him to the beach to help her build a sand castle for her dolls, was disrespecting him—a prince of the Fire Nation.
Ursa, Zuko’s mother watched from the royal house. She smiles as you and Zuko started to run around the beach. She noticed how her son kept chasing you while being so mindful not to disturb your dolls and their precious half-built sand castle.
Then you laughed. Loudly, brightly, and without fear as Zuko kept on chasing you.
And somehow, against all odds—
Zuko found himself laughing too.
Spirits… some things never really changed.
Even now, 12 years later, Zuko was still running after you. Infecting him with the contagious bright laughter echoing through the night while he chased after you like the ten year old boy from Ember Island never truly disappeared.
As if Zuko couldn’t get pettier, he shoots your poor little flame with his own fire, making it even smaller.
“You’re cheating!” The accusation was mean and rude, but the smile on your face says otherwise.
“Well—! You’re running!” Zuko shouts back.
Another flame bursts from your hands. Zuko retaliates instantly. Both of you were still sprinting recklessly through the empty park while embers lit the night around you like scattered stars.
“You’re unfairly athletic!” You complain loudly after Zuko nearly corners you beside the fountain.
You heard Zuko huff. The amount of air he exhaled was enough to sound as if he was proud and boasting about it. “I trained with uncle for years.”
“You’re using royal privilege!” You looked back with a scowl. Zuko was getting closer than you thought.
“No, I don’t! And that’s not even a real thing!”
You attempt to escape again by taking another turn, but your foot catches awkwardly against the edge of the stone pavement.
A startled yelp leaves your lips as your body pitches forward.
Spirits— you were sure you going to fall. You were so focused on looking at Zuko that you did not notice the wrong footing you just took.
Zuko’s expression changes immediately. As if he was on high alert the moment you two started running.
Because he catches you before you hit the ground, but the sudden momentum sends both of you collapsing anyway.
Zuko made sure to push himself forward so that you don’t stumble flat onto the grass with a hard thud. Thanks to that, you were sprawled on top of him instead.
The laughter dies almost instantly.
One of Zuko’s hands remained secured carefully around your waist while your palms rested against his chest to steady yourself. The last embers from your fire flickered weakly between the both of you, illuminating his face beneath the moonlight.
For one dangerous second, neither of you move.
Both of your faces were close enough for Zuko to forget how to breathe for a second.
Neither of you move until the smell of something burning hits your nose. The instant bitter and smoky smell indicated that whatever was on fire was burning fast.
You thought it was your clothes that were burning. It was fine if your robes were burned. Your mother will happily make another along with her workers, but if Zuko’s were the ones that caught fire, your mother would absolutely scold you considering she served as the head seamstress for the royal wardrobe.
Luckily, neither your robes were burned.
The old man’s horrified scream echoed throughout the entire park. He had just went for a quick stroll around the awake streets of Republic City, only to come back with his stall and his cabbages on fire.
“Oh, Spirits.” You jolt upright immediately to help put out the fire, but the damage was done.
The poor cabbages were burnt and the nearby houses and stores surrounding the park were now awake.
The rest of the night ended with you and Zuko frantically putting out flames while apologizing repeatedly to the poor vendor before compensating him with more than enough gold for his ruined cabbages.
And somehow, somewhere between the laughter, the smoke, and Zuko muttering how technically the fire was yours, then bickering with the cabbage merchant over how the fire “wasn’t even that big” which absolutely did not help!
You forgot what it felt like to be abandoned by Aang again.
Last night’s rainy ride on Appa made you sick.
In fact, you have been sick for far too many times for the past couple of months considering how you waited on different days for far too many hours in hopes that Aang would return to you as fast as the days that he had left you.
It had been a few months since you last saw Aang when he left you on Republic City to go to an urgent matter in the Earth Kingdom. You were left to go back to the Fire Nation with Zuko instead of being on a short vacation with Aang on the city.
Once you were back on your motherland, you wanted to forget the feeling of being abandoned—Spirits, you even have gotten to get used to it, but how could you when it was a special day for the two of you?
That was why even with your friend's care, you ended up being sick that month anyway.
Fortunately, this recent fever of yours had not spiked up yet to make you feel too cold or too nauseous to be able to get up and do your morning routines.
“Hey… you okay?” Aang asks behind you.
You were startled when you saw his reflection on your mirror vanity inside your own chamber.
For a second, you had forgotten that Aang promised to spend the whole month with you here on the Fire Nation. He wanted to make up for all the times he had to leave your dates, especially that one a few months ago where he left you and your anniversary celebration in Republic City to go to an urgent political meeting with all the peace amongst the Earth Kingdoms.
The transportation was a bit rough considering that the moment you got to your clan’s estate in the Fire Nation, both of you were soaking wet from the rain.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” You answered, but Aang was already hugging you from behind. You can see his reflection on the mirror—he begins pouting when he saw up close how your eyes looked a bit sunken.
A tiny detail that was too small to notice, but Aang did.
“Did you not sleep comfortably last night?” Aang frowns as he now kneeled in front of you while you sat on the vanity chair. “Was I moving too much?” He followed up with another question.
"No." You laughed out as he became too flustered and shy, thinking that he may have kicked your legs in his sleep.
Aang’s expression softens almost painfully at your answer.
The concern in his eyes never fully disappears, but his hands remain gentle against your face—warm palms cradling your cheeks while his thumbs brush slowly beneath your eyes as if he could somehow wipe away your exhaustion with enough tenderness alone.
“You’re sure?” He asks quietly.
Always worried when it came to you.
You nod faintly despite the heaviness lingering behind your temples. “Just tired.” You murmur. “Last night’s rain probably caught up to me.”
Aang exhales through his nose, still unconvinced.
Then his gaze drifts toward the open balcony where the morning breeze slipped inside your chambers. It carried the scent of rainwater and the subtle sweetness of fire lilies from the gardens below.
“We can stay in today...” Aang says after a moment. His voice turns softer now—less Avatar and more of the boy who only wanted to spend quiet mornings beside you. “Sleep more if you want.”
The corners of his lips lift slightly as he kneels properly in front of you, resting his arms against your knees while still holding your hands carefully within his own.
“We still have an entire month together.”
Something inside your chest twists painfully at those words.
No urgent council summons.
No peace negotiations.
No nations demanding the Avatar’s attention.
It sounded too good to be true.
A small laugh escapes you before you could stop it. You shake your head lightly. “No.”
“I missed you too much to sleep through the whole day.” You admit quietly. “I want to look at you first.”
For a brief second, Aang completely stills.
Then slowly—almost helplessly—a smile spreads across his face.
Not the bright grin the world knew.
This one was softer, reserved only for moments like this, for you.
Spirits… you hated how easily that expression still affected you.
“You know...” Aang murmurs while absentmindedly tracing circles against your knuckles. “Sometimes I think you only keep me around because you think I’m handsome and how I'm taller than you now.”
Years ago when Aang had just ended the Hundred Year War when he first met you, your first impression of him was... something. In your defense, you were both in your teenage years—two 13 year-olds trying to get a taste of the last years of childhood they'll ever get.
Aang was this little boy you had a crush on. Aang, who was shorter than you and had the cutest noticeable ears.
Now, looking at all the years you had spent with him, and after him confessing by the time you were barely fifteen, made you even think if the man—this handsome, tall, muscular man was the same boy you had a crush on.
You hum thoughtfully as if considering it seriously. “Maybe.” Aang pinches your cheeks teasingly. "I still wonder how you got your cute ears to shrink, Aang..."
Aang gasps, going along with your antics. “Wow. That’s a rude question to ask your boyfriend.”
Your laughter finally slips out properly this time—soft and tired but real enough that Aang immediately looks up at you again as if the sound alone was worth embarrassing himself for.
And maybe that was what made loving Aang so difficult.
Because despite everything… despite the waiting, despite the loneliness, despite always sharing him with the entire world—
He still knew how to make your heart feel unbearably full.
Aang smiles at you again before slowly resting his forehead against yours. The room falls quiet afterward as if the two of you finally had the time together, just as you longed for.
Just the sound of breathing, rainwater dripping somewhere outside, the warmth of his hands intertwined with yours, and Aang’s humming of some old chimes he learned from Monk Gyatso as he massaged your head.
His warmth and his presence alone lulled you back to sleep, because the moment you regained consciousness, you were tucked back on the bed with Aang hugging you.
You knew he wasn’t asleep because he kept tracing circles on your back while his other hand just caressed your face.
You did not dare to open your eyes. You were too invested on your boyfriend being so amused on tracing lines on your face.
Even though you wanted to spend the day with something more special rather than just staying in, with the way Aang cherished you in this moment, maybe going back to bed wasn’t so bad after all.
Aang kept humming to himself until he began to speak. At first it was describing how beautiful you were even in your sleep, until—
“When we have children… I hope they look like you.”
Your breath nearly caught.
Aang did not say “if” like he was uncertain what the future holds for the two of you. He said “when” as if he has already seen what your children with him will look like.
For a terrifying second, you were grateful your eyes were closed.
Because if they were open, Aang would have immediately seen the tears threatening to gather there.
There was simply something overwhelming about hearing him speak so casually about a future that included you.
A future he had already imagined.
A future that stretched so far ahead that it somehow included children, a home, and years neither of you had lived yet.
You can’t say that you have thought about it, for your current concerns stayed with Aang’s time with you.
You were too preoccupied with the thought of when Aang might leave again to help the world to even think of your own dreams with him.
In other words, you had been so robbed of Aang’s presence that you spent more time mourning future departures than dreaming about future milestones.
But hearing Aang say it aloud made it feel real in a way that made you realize, maybe you should start daydreaming about the future too.
His arm tightened around your waist slightly.
“Maybe they’ll have your eyes…” He continued quietly. A small laugh leaves him. “Actually, no. Hopefully they get everything from you. Especially your eyes.”
Then Aang sighs contentedly against the top of your head.
“Yeah…” He murmurs sleepily. “I’d like that.”
The room falls quiet again afterward that you could hear Aang’s steady heartbeat beneath your ear.
Until it all fades, all you could remember was Aang’s soft breathing indicating that he fell asleep too.
For a brief moment, wrapped safely within his arms, it was easy to believe that future would truly happen.
But the moment you both woke up again, you felt a little warm and cold at the same time. Your head was throbbing a little, but all those aches that you felt was forced to be suppressed down when Aang came in with bunch of food on the tray that he was holding.
“Good, you’re awake!” Aang chirped with enthusiasm when he saw you sitting on the bed. He tried to pry Momo away from the food, but gave up when the lemur already got his hands on one of the custard mini pies and flew away.
“I made us breakfast.” The tray was settled down on the bed between the two of you as Aang sat down. “Your mother saw me making a mess in the kitchen. It was embarrassing.” The way his cheeks flushed when admitting said enough.
Aang melts when you smiled at him and thanked him for cooking your favorite meals for you. He blabbered about how he cooked each dish, how your mother was so kind and praised him for not making a big mess like he did last time. He was so gleeful as if he were a child that was proud of his achievement.
“Try this one first.” He points at the congee in the middle of the tray.
“Only me?” You teased as Aang held a spoonful of congee at your lips. To make things even, you reached for a spare spoon and did the same for him. “We’re both going to try this.”
Somewhere in between congees and custard mini pies, the breakfast slowly turned into something neither of you would remember for the food itself. Aang had long abandoned eating properly in favor of talking, eagerly explaining how he made each dish and which ones your mother had quietly rescued before he could accidentally ruin them.
But then a sudden knock echoes sharply throughout your chamber doors.
Just as things were going well.
The peaceful atmosphere shatters almost immediately.
You feel it before either of you even speak.
The subtle straightening of Aang’s shoulders.
The way his expression changes.
The way the man in front of you slowly disappears beneath the weight of becoming the Avatar again.
“Come in.” You call softly against your own selfish will for a part of you wanted Aang to stay.
One of your family’s handmaidens enters nervously, bowing quickly before stepping aside for a messenger carrying Republic City’s insignia.
Your stomach sinks instantly.
“My lady… Avatar Aang....” The messenger greets breathlessly. “Master Toph Beifong and Master Katara have requested immediate assistance regarding a conflict escalating near the outer districts of Republic City.”
The heavy silence sunk along with your heart.
Aang stands up and takes the scroll quickly, eyes moving rapidly across the contents. You watch the exact moment concern overtakes him completely.
“There’s fighting near one of the relocation sectors. It’s between the colonies again…” Aang says quietly after lowering the parchment. “Toph thinks it might spread if they can’t contain it soon.”
The world calling for him.
For years you were not selfish. You did not hold him back nor asked him to stay.
For the first time in months, there were no hurried goodbyes, no looming departures, and no countdown hanging over your head.
Yet somehow, before your month together had even truly begun, the world was asking for him once more.
Your fingers tightened around the blanket resting on your lap. The sweet taste of the custard mini pies that he made turned bland in your taste buds, and aside from your fever, you already felt the warm tears that were starting to form on your eyes.
You swallow the lump in your throat and then hated yourself for the question you asked before it even left your mouth.
You sat straight. You've already said your own selfish thoughts just this once, so you tried saying more not knowing if your pleads were enough to make Aang stay.
You do not know if he will because you have never asked him to turn his back against the world, you were always willingly giving up the time that was supposed to be for you and Aang.
“Toph, Katara, Sokka… the council you helped put together.” Your voice remained soft, careful. “Isn’t that why Republic City has leaders now? So that everything doesn’t have to fall on you?” The moment the words left your lips, guilt followed shortly after.
But you did not stop.
Perhaps it was your fever's sickness behavior that made you do so.
Or perhaps, it was your own bottled up feelings slowly spilling out after years of containing it and suppressing it down because you had spent years swallowing your disappointment for the sake of understanding him, only to realize that understanding did not make it hurt any less.
The handmaiden noticed that you two needed privacy and closed the wooden door. Aang had not spoken yet that the only noise at the moment was the clanking of the door being closed.
“You left our anniversary months ago to help establish peace in Republic City.” Your voice trembled slightly despite your efforts to keep it steady. “You helped create a council that even if it’s temporary, it’s there—it’s improving. You helped build a government so that peace wouldn’t depend on one person alone—on you.”
Your fingers tightened even more around the blanket resting on your lap.
“So why do you still have to go?”
The question comes out quieter than you intended. The tone was not angry, not accusing, just… tired.
Aang lowers his eyes briefly, his thumb brushing along the edge of the parchment as though searching for the right words. When he finally looks back at you, the guilt on his face is immediate and unmistakable.
“Because they’re still asking for me.” He says softly. “If Katara and Toph sent this, then something must’ve happened that they can’t handle alone. I know Republic City has leaders now, but sometimes…” He trails off before releasing a small sigh. “Sometimes they still need the Avatar.”
You close your eyes for a moment, somehow crestfallen by his answer that you already expected, understood, and hated all at the same time.
For years, you had never asked Aang to choose between you and the world. You never wanted to be that person.
The world had needed him long before you entered his life, and it would continue needing him long after either of you were gone. Yet understanding that truth did little to ease the ache settling inside your chest.
Missed anniversaries, missed birthdays, and years of interrupted plans slowly transformed from isolated disappointments into a wound you could no longer pretend wasn’t there.
“You just got here…” You whisper, the truth finally escaping your lips.
The words are quiet enough that they almost disappear beneath the sound of the rain outside. Yet Aang hears them immediately. He always does. The moment they reach him, something in his expression falters.
His gaze drops toward the scroll resting in his hands, thumb brushing against the parchment as though searching for an answer that would somehow make all of this easier.
“I know.” He says softly after a moment. The guilt in his voice is immediate, heavy with the weight of promises he had every intention of keeping. “I know I just got here.” Aang lets out a slow breath, his shoulders sagging slightly. “But they're counting on me.”
For years, those words would have been enough. You would have nodded, smiled, and helped him pack without letting your disappointment show. After all, you understood better than anyone what it meant to be the Avatar.
You understood the burden he carried, the expectations placed upon him, and the impossible position of being needed by an entire world. The problem was that understanding him had never made missing him hurt any less.
Your gaze drifts toward the breakfast sitting forgotten between the two of you. The congee had long begun to cool, the custard pies untouched.
Just moments ago, Aang had been talking about children, about futures, about years neither of you had lived yet. Now, before the morning had even ended, the future felt farther away than ever.
"They need me." Aang says sincerely to you.
A bitter ache settles in your chest. It was not sudden nor new. It felt like every missed anniversary, every interrupted vacation, every birthday celebrated without him had quietly gathered together over the years and chosen this moment to make themselves known.
You had spent so long convincing yourself that patience was a virtue and understanding was an act of love that you never realized how exhausted your heart had become from carrying both.
When you finally look back at him, your vision has begun to blur.
The confession leaves your lips so softly that it almost sounds fragile. Yet the moment the words are spoken, the room falls silent. Because for the first time, there is nothing left to hide behind—not duty, not understanding, not the careful excuses you had spent years making on his behalf.
There is only the simple, heartbreaking truth that while the world needed the Avatar—and the Avatar would always answer when called—you had spent years needing Aang.
Aang’s entire face crumples.
“I’m sorry.” He says immediately.
The apology is so sincere that it almost breaks your heart more than the departure itself. “I’m sorry. Spirits, I really am.”
You shake your head before he can continue, because none of this is his fault. Or perhaps that’s what makes it hurt so much—that there is no villain standing between the two of you. Just responsibility, his duty to the world.
“No, I’m sorry.” you murmur, guilt arriving almost as quickly as the tears themselves. The moment the words leave your lips, you wish you could take them back. You shouldn't have said that. You shouldn't have made him feel worse than he already did. Most of all, you shouldn't have been selfish enough to ask the Avatar to stay when there were people out there who needed him far more than you did.
Aang's expression immediately softens into something pained. He shakes his head before you can continue, as though the very idea of you apologizing hurts him. Any attempt at arguing quickly dissolves into another apology from his end, followed by promises neither of you intentionally acknowledge for what they are.
Promises that he would make it up to you. Promises that he would return soon. Promises that sounded sincere because they always were. You smile anyway, even when a part of you already knows how difficult those promises would be to keep.
If the situation were not serious, they would never have sent for the Avatar in the first place. The thought settles heavily inside your chest, grounding you in a reality neither of you can escape. You draw in a slow breath and force your expression to remain gentle despite the ache spreading through you like a crack through glass.
“You should go.” You tell him softly.
The words seem to steal whatever argument Aang had been preparing. He opens his mouth, only to hesitate. What else was there to say? This conversation had unfolded so many times before that neither of you needed to hear the ending anymore.
You offer him a small smile anyway—one filled with affection, understanding, and a sadness too old to hide completely.
The guilt that flashes across Aang's face is immediate and devastating. Because he knows. Spirits, he knows. He knows how many dinners had gone cold while you waited, how many celebrations had passed without him, and how many times you had looked toward the sky hoping to see Appa returning sooner than expected.
The cruelest part was that none of it had ever been intentional. Aang never left because he wanted to. He left because every time the world called, he answered.
“I’m okay.” You assure him quietly, even though the words feel fragile. “Really. It was just… some foolish emotions that slipped out.” You tried to scoff a laughter.
Aang looks at you as though he desperately wants to believe that. Slowly, he crosses the room once more and kneels beside the bed. One hand rises to cup your cheek while the other brushes a loose strand of hair away from your face. His thumb lingers beneath your eye for a moment, wiping away the remnants of tears neither of you mention.
“I’m really sorry.” He whispers.
The apology isn't defensive. It isn't rushed. It comes from somewhere raw and painfully sincere. “I’ll make it up to you.” He promises quietly. “I swear I will.”
He always meant every promise he made. Every single one. Yet life had a habit of placing impossible distances between his intentions and reality.
You nod anyway. Not because you fully believe him, but because you know he believes himself.
Aang leans forward a moment later, pressing a lingering kiss against your forehead before capturing your lips in one last gentle kiss. It is soft and familiar and filled with all the affection that had made you fall in love with him in the first place. When he finally pulls away, the reluctance in his eyes is impossible to miss.
For a brief moment, you can see the part of Aang that wants to stay.
But the Avatar leaves anyway.
It had been two days since Aang left for Republic City.
Everyone within your family’s estate had avoided the subject of his departure as though speaking of it aloud might somehow worsen the ache lingering in your chest. They avoided the topic as if it were a plague.
Even your parents, who had checked on you more times than necessary since the fever began, carefully danced around the topic. Their concern manifested in warm meals, extra blankets, and gentle reminders to rest rather than direct questions they feared would hurt more than help.
Unfortunately, your refusal to rest had not gone unnoticed.
Your mother worried. Your servants worried. Even the estate physicians had begun following you around with herbal remedies and increasingly exasperated expressions.
By the second day, your father had grown tired of watching you pretend everything was fine.
Unfortunately for your father—General Royu, worrying about his daughter did not excuse him from his duties. So while you spent the morning avoiding your room once again by wandering around your family estate, he found himself standing inside the Royal Palace after a military council, watching storm clouds gather over the capital and wondering whether you would be stubborn enough to leave the estate in weather like this.
Your father knew you would be.
While the rest of the military council filtered out of the chamber, Royu remained by the windows overlooking the capital.
“The skies are too dark today, My Lord.”
Zuko walked from the platform to stand beside Royu. Beyond the palace windows, storm clouds gathered across the horizon, swallowing the usual brilliance of the Fire Nation sky beneath heavy shades of grey.
“It’s only us, Uncle Royu.” A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Please call me the way you used to.”
The older man let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as though the suggestion was impossible.
“If I do, my wife will scold me.” His amusement deepened. “And my daughter will certainly join her.” Royu adds, already imagining how you would scold your father who used to treat Zuko as a son rather than the Fire Lord of the entire nation.
“You should.” Royu folded his arms across his chest. “My daughter has never missed an opportunity to tell me when I am wrong.”
The familiar complaint was spoken with enough affection that it softened the room almost immediately.
For a brief moment, neither of them were the Fire Lord and one of the high-ranking generals of the Fire Nation. They were simply two people who had known each other long enough to remember summers on Ember Island, family dinners that stretched long into the evening, and a little girl who had spent most of her childhood running through palace halls without permission.
Royu’s smile faded as his gaze drifted toward the darkening sky once more. His gaze remained fixed on the storm clouds gathering beyond the palace windows. "My daughter is running a fever." A quiet sigh escaped him. "Spirits know neither her mother nor I have managed to convince her to rest."
A faint smile tugged at Zuko's lips. That sounded exactly like you.
"If she somehow finds her way to the palace today..." Royu continued, shaking his head as though he already regretted the possibility. "—and the rain becomes heavier, please do not send her home." His expression softened slightly. "My wife would never forgive either of us if her fever gets worse."
The request puzzled Zuko more than he cared to admit. You were on leave. More importantly, you had practically threatened him before taking that leave, making it abundantly clear that you had no intention of stepping foot inside the palace until it ended—it was for Aang after all.
If you had a fever, Zuko knew that Aang would be there to take care of you. Especially now that both of you were on a vacation.
"Of course, Uncle Royu. If she comes by, I'll make sure she stays. I won't send her back home even if it's raining."
The older man seemed satisfied with that answer. Moments later, several officers appeared at the chamber doors to summon their commander to another briefing. Royu offered Zuko a grateful smile before inclining his head.
Then he turned and joined his waiting subordinates, leaving the Fire Lord alone with the darkening sky and a request he doubted would ever become necessary.
However just hours later, Zuko found himself presiding over the Royal Council, listening to reports concerning trade agreements, noble disputes, and the countless matters that accompanied governing an entire nation.
Palace clerks stood in orderly lines throughout the chamber, scrolls tucked beneath their arms as they waited for their names to be called before the Fire Lord.
By the time Zuko was handed another report that was read aloud by the grand chamberlain, his attention drifted briefly toward the back of the line.
Then he did a double-take.
There, amongst the palace clerks awaiting their turn, stood you.
Despite the distance separating you from the throne, he immediately noticed the things everyone else seemed to miss. The dampness of sweat on your temples despite the weather being cold. The exhaustion in your posture. The distant look in your eyes that suggested your thoughts were somewhere far beyond the palace walls.
By the time Zuko was handed another report that was read aloud by the grand chamberlain, his attention drifted briefly toward the back of the line.
For a brief moment, Zuko forgot entirely about the report being read aloud before him.
You were supposed to be at home.
Recovering and trying to get your fever to pass by, but certainly not standing at the very end of a line of palace clerks while looking as though a strong breeze might knock you over. The sight alone was enough to make Uncle Royu's request from earlier return to him with startling clarity.
The older general had known.
Not that you would come to the palace specifically. No one could have predicted that. But he had known you well enough to understand that idleness would never suit you, especially not now.
The moment Zuko noticed the exhaustion in your posture and the sheen of sweat lingering on your temples despite the chilly weather, he understood exactly why you were here.
The realization settled heavily in his chest.
The Avatar was one of his closest friends. Zuko trusted him with his life, trusted him with the peace they had fought so hard to build together, and trusted him with you. Yet despite all of that, there were moments when Zuko found himself quietly resenting the circumstances that seemed determined to pull Aang away from you time and time again.
Because he knew what happened afterward.
He had watched it happen for years.
You would smile and say you understood. You would tell everyone that the world needed the Avatar more than you did. Then you would spend weeks waiting for letters, waiting for visits, waiting for promises that were always sincere but rarely fulfilled in the way either of you had hoped.
Every time Aang left, a part of you remained looking toward the horizon long after Appa had disappeared from sight.
Standing through a council session you did not need to attend while pretending your leave had not only just begun.
Something about the sight made Zuko's chest ache.
Not because he blamed Aang.
Never because he blamed Aang.
But because he hated seeing you become someone who was always waiting. Waiting for the next visit. Waiting for the next promise. Waiting for a future that always seemed to be postponed by one more emergency, one more crisis, one more person in need of the Avatar.
As though sensing his gaze, your eyes lifted.
The moment your eyes met across the crowded council chamber, one of Zuko's eyebrows rose almost immediately. The question was obvious even from across the room. "What are you doing here?"
Your own eyes narrowed at once.
Then, with all the confidence of someone who was very clearly not supposed to be there, you arched an eyebrow in return.
"Why? Am I not allowed to be here?" You communicated with your eyes.
For the first time that morning, Zuko nearly rolled his eyes.
Exhausted. Feverish. Miserable.
And somehow still impossibly stubborn.
Zuko eventually had to force his attention back toward the council proceedings.
One by one, palace clerks stepped forward as their names were called. The Grand Chamberlain accepted each scroll, read its contents aloud for the council’s consideration, and handed it to the Fire Lord for review.
Some reports received immediate approval. Others were stamped with refusal and returned to their owners with instructions for revision. Ordinarily, the process was mind-numbingly routine. Today, however, Zuko found his gaze drifting back toward the end of the line far more often than he cared to admit.
With every passing report, you looked worse.
The subtle signs that most people overlooked. The way your shoulders seemed heavier than usual beneath your robes. The way you occasionally shifted your weight from one foot to the other as though standing itself had become an effort.
Even from where he sat, Zuko could see a faint sheen of perspiration along your hairline, despite the chill carried into the chamber by the approaching storm.
The realization only deepened his irritation. Not toward you. Certainly not toward Aang. Mostly toward the stubborn circumstances that had somehow led you here instead of resting where you belonged.
You were still three clerks away from being called when Zuko finally set down the scroll in his hands and exhaled slowly through his nose.
The declaration immediately silenced the room.
The Grand Chamberlain blinked at Zuko's statement. “My Lord?”
Zuko ran his hand on his face to make it seem like he's more drained from council work more than the usual. “We will continue the remaining reports in my chambers.”
Confusion spread through the council almost instantly. Several officials exchanged uncertain glances while the Grand Chamberlain looked genuinely alarmed by the suggestion.
“My Lord, there are only a handful of reports remaining and the council has to hear these reports. Surely it would be more efficient to conclude the session here—”
Zuko was already standing.
The movement alone silenced half the room and the palace clerks that began to murmur, but not you.
You were about to make a suggestion that supported the chamberlain's wishes until Zuko speaks again.
“We will continue the remaining reports in my chambers.” He repeated calmly as he descended from the dais. “Must I repeat myself?”
The Grand Chamberlain visibly wilted. “…No, My Lord."
Satisfied, Zuko descended from the dais while attendants hurried to gather the remaining reports. The council chamber erupted into quiet confusion as officials exchanged uncertain glances with one another, none of them quite understanding why the Fire Lord had suddenly decided to relocate the remainder of the session when only a few reports remained.
You, however, were far more interested in the fact that he was walking directly toward you.
The moment Zuko stopped before you, your eyes narrowed suspiciously. He glanced briefly at the stack of scrolls in your arms before looking toward the Grand Chamberlain.
"Would you mind helping her with those?" He asked.
The request was spoken politely enough, yet you knew better than to be fooled by it.
Immediately, your grip tightened around the reports.
"I can carry them myself."
The objection came so quickly that it almost overlapped with his request. Several nearby clerks glanced in your direction before quickly looking away again, suddenly finding the palace walls fascinating before walking out of the hall.
The Grand Chamberlain, unfortunately, was far too experienced to pretend he had not heard you.
"My lady." He began carefully, extending his hands toward the scrolls. "I am certain you can. However, I cannot very well refuse a request from the Fire Lord."
Your eyes narrowed further.
Then both you and the Grand Chamberlain looked toward the source of the problem—Zuko, who just merely tilted his head.
He was waiting so patiently, like he wanted to smile to top it all off.
He did not need to say anything. The look on his face already informed you that he intended to stand there for the remainder of the afternoon if necessary.
With an exasperated sigh, you finally surrendered the reports.
The Grand Chamberlain accepted them with visible relief.
"You seem awfully determined to inconvenience your officials today, Fire Lord." You state. The title was deliberate. A reminder that you were still standing inside the palace surrounded by half the council.
To his credit, Zuko did not react beyond the slight twitch threatening the corner of his mouth.
"I find myself equally inconvenienced by a certain Royal Liaison."
You scoffed at his childishness, but couldn’t blame yourself because you were also being childish too, stubborn even. Maybe even more stubborn than Zuko himself.
"Whatever could she have done?" You poked around trying to act all innocent.
His gaze swept over you once, slowly and deliberately. The look alone made you suspicious.
Zuko started to walk while answering your humble question.
"She arrived at the palace while running a fever."
You immediately opened your mouth.
"While carrying enough reports to fill an archive."
The smile threatening Zuko's expression finally won.
The worst part was that several responses came to mind. You wanted to rebut, like his title of Fire Lord does not scare you—it didn’t. But none of them would survive being spoken aloud in front of the Grand Chamberlain.
So instead, you settled for glaring at him.
Unfortunately, it only seemed to amuse him more.
The procession began moving moments later. Palace clerks carried the remaining reports while attendants hurried ahead to prepare the Fire Lord's chambers for the continuation of the council.
Rain battered the palace windows as everyone made their way through the corridors, the approaching storm darkening the halls despite the lanterns burning along the walls.
Somewhere during the walk, while you were busy composing several insults you could not actually say, Zuko looked at you, the playfulness in his expression was replaced by concern.
“Are you okay?” The question remained unanswered until you found the right words to respond to it.
You knew Zuko wasn’t just asking about your fever, he was asking about your feelings too.
“I— yeah.” Your answer came out flat and short, because what else was there to say? You were pretty sure that aside from yourself, Zuko knows exactly what you feel right now.
You continued walking to avoid the topic again.
Zuko noticed your avoidance toward it, so he glanced back—to his chamberlain and the three remaining palace clerks behind him. The movement appeared casual enough to anyone watching.
A small motion of his hand followed.
It was barely noticeable, but instantly understood.
The Grand Chamberlain slowed and so did the clerks.
Neither announced it and neither questioned it.
The Fire Lord had told them to slow down just so he can walk a few steps away from them alongside you.
By the time you noticed anything at all, several paces separated the two of you from the rest of the group.
"Why exactly are we continuing the council in your chambers?" You asked, finally voicing the question that had been bothering you since he interrupted the meeting.
Zuko's expression softened slightly. "Because someone is clearly sick." He knew that you were about to counter him, so Zuko followed with another statement. "—and she's clearly not fine."
You looked away from his gaze. Maybe you'll let Zuko have this one. His answer alone was practically an admission.
"Just—" Zuko took a sharp breath. "Sit down for a while. Please." He faced you even after you withdrew your eyes from him. He looked genuinely worried when you looked back.
A pensive look painted your face. "Okay." You could only whisper, not wanting to go against Zuko and your comfort anymore.
By the time the two of you (and the Palace Clerks and the Grand Chamberlain) arrived at Zuko's chambers, the pounding in your head had worsened considerably. The warmth beneath your skin felt heavier now, your thoughts slightly slower than they had been that morning.
You blamed the walk. The weather. The endless reports. Anything except the possibility that your fever was actually getting worse.
The remaining clerks immediately resumed their duties. One by one, reports were presented, read aloud, and reviewed while the Grand Chamberlain continued organizing the stack of scrolls he had rescued from your arms earlier.
Zuko, however, seemed far more interested in where you were sitting as soon as you entered the room.
The chair closest to his desk had somehow become yours before you even realized what was happening. Every attempt to stand was met with a look severe enough to send you back into the seat, while every report that reached your hands was quietly intercepted before you could take on more work.
Outside, rain continued striking the palace windows.
Inside, the council proceeded as usual.
Yet as another wave of dizziness washed over you and you found yourself leaning slightly against the arm of the chair, it became increasingly difficult to ignore the truth.
And judging from the way Zuko's attention kept drifting toward you between reports, he knew it too.
By the time the remaining reports had been reviewed, only yours remained.
You didn’t even know that it was your turn to report as your mind kept replaying the last conversation you had with Aang, and the longer you thought about it, the more you got sick, literally.
The Grand Chamberlain stepped forward almost immediately as soon as it was time to open your scrolls, already preparing to read the contents aloud as he had done for every other report that afternoon.
Before he could unroll the parchment, however, Zuko extended a hand and calmly took the scroll from him. “That will be all, Grand Chamberlain. My Royal Liaison and I will handle the remainder ourselves.” Though the older man looked surprised, years of service had taught him better than to question the Fire Lord’s decisions.
Within moments, the chamber had grown considerably quieter.
The remaining clerks retreated to the far side of the room while the Grand Chamberlain busied himself organizing the reports awaiting final approval.
Rain continued tapping against the tall windows overlooking the capital, its steady rhythm becoming the backdrop to the silence that settled between you and Zuko.
"Can I?" He stood before you while you still sat melted on the couch. How ironic for a ruler of an entire nation to ask someone if he can sit down near you, but you nod anyway.
As soon as Zuko saw your head tilt down on the slightest angle, he sat down.
What you did not expect was for him to sit down next to you.
Zuko unrolled your report and began reading through the contents himself, occasionally pausing to ask questions or make observations regarding the concerns raised by several noble families.
For a while, the arrangement worked surprisingly well.
You offered explanations where necessary while Zuko reviewed the recommendations and proposed solutions. The conversation flowed naturally enough that neither of you immediately noticed how much quieter you had become.
It wasn’t until Zuko asked a question regarding one of the western governors and received no answer that he finally looked up from the parchment. "So... should we visit Shu Jing this month?" He asks about the village once more.
His brows immediately furrowed.
You were staring directly at the report in front of you, yet your eyes appeared unfocused, as though the words themselves had begun drifting together. Whatever concentration you had been forcing yourself to maintain throughout the day seemed to be slipping away now, worn down by exhaustion, fever, and sheer stubbornness.
Zuko called your name once.
When you still didn’t respond, he repeated it.
This time you blinked and looked up, clearly startled. “What?” Your delayed response told him everything he needed to know.
Without another word, he reached forward and pressed the back of his hand against your forehead. The contact lasted only a few seconds, but it was more than enough to confirm his suspicions. Your skin felt far too warm beneath his touch.
"Yeah, you're not touching these reports anymore." He was quick to murmur as he retreated his own hand that still had your fever's warmth in it.
For your sake, Zuko tried to go along with your choice of distraction—to continue your duties as his Royal Liaison. But the moment he felt how high your temperature was finally made him decide that you needed rest and aid whether you liked it or not.
Zuko simply stared at you for several moments before slowly setting the reports aside. The expression crossing his face was not one of annoyance so much as resignation, as though he had finally reached the end of his patience.
The instruction left little room for argument.
Before you could protest, he was already crossing the room toward the chamber doors. Through the opening, you caught glimpses of palace attendants waiting outside while Zuko issued several quiet instructions.
One servant hurried away almost immediately while another bowed and disappeared down the corridor.
When he returned several moments later, he did so with a purpose that instantly made you suspicious.
Without offering any explanation, Zuko gathered the reports from the desk and carried them toward the opposite side of the chamber.
You watched him place the entire stack atop a table near his bed before arranging them neatly into several piles.
The sight immediately filled you with suspicion. More importantly, it filled you with concern because all of your reports were now very obviously beyond your reach.
Your brows immediately furrowed.
“What are you doing?” you asked as you straightened your posture, making you a bit dizzy as you did so.
The moment your gaze followed the reports, it became painfully obvious what he intended. “Zuko, I was still reading those.”
A look passed over his face that suggested he had already anticipated the argument.
“You can continue reading them—” He replied calmly as he adjusted one of the stacks. “After you rest, drink the medicine that’s currently on its way here, and stop pretending you’re well enough to work.” The matter-of-fact tone only made the statement more infuriating.
Your attention immediately caught on one particular word.
“Rest?” You repeated. “What exactly does that mean?”
Zuko looked toward the bed.
Then you looked back at him.
The realization arrived slowly enough to be horrifying.
“You want me to lie down?” The disbelief in your voice was impossible to hide. “On your bed?”
Rather than appearing embarrassed by the suggestion, Zuko looked entirely unconcerned.
In his mind, there was nothing wrong with it. You’re sick and in desperate need of rest. Zuko did not see anything wrong with it.
“Yes.” He answered simply. “I don’t know why you’re acting surprised. You’ve been sitting here looking moments away from collapsing for the last hour.” The faint crease between his brows returned as he glanced toward you again. “Honestly, I’m starting to think the fever has affected your judgment.”
A short laugh escaped you despite yourself. “My judgment is perfectly fine, and that’s just not what I’m concerned ab—”
“No.” He crossed his arms while looking at you.
“My fever is not that serious, Zuko.” You stood up to prove yourself, mirroring his arms.
“You’re shivering and sweating at the same time.” His statement’s tone was blunt, he even looked like he was tired of going against your stubbornness but with the way he looked, you knew Zuko would be there to banter with you the whole day. “So, yes. Your fever is serious.”
Frown slowly replaced the irritated expression on your face. You might as well tell the truth as to why you kept on arguing with him. “I came here to work.”
That finally earned a reaction.
Zuko sighed heavily and dragged a hand down his face, looking every bit like a man whose patience had been tested far beyond its limits.
Still, despite your insistence and stubbornness, Zuko will never get tired of you.
Outside, another roll of thunder echoed through the palace, rattling the windows just enough to emphasize the worsening storm.
For a moment he simply stared at you, as though debating whether arguing further would accomplish anything at all.
The silence stretched longer than you intended.
Eventually, your gaze drifted toward the rain outside. The dark clouds had swallowed most of the afternoon light by now, leaving the chamber bathed in softer shadows and the glow of lanterns.
When you finally spoke again, your voice came out quieter than before. “I needed something to do. I came here to work. I needed a distraction.”
The admission lingered heavily between you.
You did not elaborate. You didn’t need to.
Two days ago, Aang had left for Republic City. Two days ago, you had smiled, wished him well, and told him to be careful. Two days later, you were standing inside the Fire Lord’s chambers while running a fever because sitting alone in your room had felt infinitely worse.
Although Zuko did not know the whole story, he understood immediately.
A strange softness settled over his expression before he looked away toward the windows. The rain continued falling relentlessly beyond the palace walls, turning the capital into a sea of grey skies and silver mist. For a brief moment, he seemed lost in thought.
“Uncle Royu came to see me this morning.”
The unexpected statement pulled your attention back toward him.
“He stayed behind after the military council.” A faint breath escaped him before he continued. “He asked me for a favor. At the time, I didn’t think much of it because I genuinely believed you would remain at home and recover properly.”
The fact that your father predicted this entire situation felt embarrassingly believable.
“He told me that if you came to the palace despite your fever and the weather turned worse, I wasn’t to let you leave.” A small smile tugged briefly at the corner of Zuko’s mouth before disappearing again. “Honestly, I didn’t understand why he seemed so certain. I know Aang would be there to take care of you if you were sick.”
The mention of Aang immediately quieted the room.
Neither of you spoke for several seconds.
Because suddenly the conversation was no longer about fevers or reports or medicine.
It was about why you were here.
And judging from the look in Zuko’s eyes, he finally understood.
The fight seemed to leave your body all at once.
Perhaps it was exhaustion. Perhaps it was the fever. Or perhaps it was simply the realization that continuing the argument required more energy than you currently possessed.
Whatever the reason, your shoulders gradually relaxed.
“I promised Uncle Royu I would take care of you.” Zuko said quietly. “And despite what you seem determined to prove today, taking care of you does not involve letting you work yourself unconscious.”
You closed your eyes briefly.
The familiar concern in his voice felt frustratingly difficult to argue against.
Outside, another crack of thunder rolled through the capital. The sound seemed to shake the chamber itself, as though the storm had personally decided to support Zuko’s position. The timing was so ridiculous that you almost smiled.
As if even the weather sides with him.
“Fine. But you’ll let me work while I rest.” With another defeated sigh, you reached for the clasp of your outer robe—one that bore the insignia of the Fire Nation, identical to what the Palace Clerks wears, and carefully slipped the garment from your shoulders.
The heavy layer was folded neatly over the back of a nearby chair before you finally began to walk toward his bed.
Zuko wisely said nothing as you crossed the room.
The mattress dipped slightly beneath your weight as you sat down.
To your immense annoyance, it was comfortable.
You were still glaring at the bed when Zuko carried the reports toward the chair beside it and sat down.
The movement immediately caught your attention.
The question slipped out before you could stop it.
Something unreadable flickered across his face.
Then he settled back into the chair and reached for the first scroll.
“No.” He replied. “You wanted a distraction. I’ll read the reports aloud. You can listen, complain about my decisions, and pretend you’re still helping.”
Despite everything, a small smile finally appeared.
And for the first time that afternoon, Zuko looked relieved to see it.
Your job as Royal Liaison was to gather the concerns of noble families throughout the Fire Nation, sort through them, and relay the matters requiring the Fire Lord’s attention.
It was a position that often left you caught somewhere between diplomat, messenger, negotiator, and occasional peacekeeper, resulting in a relationship with your duties that could only be described as complicated.
There were aspects of it you enjoyed. The work allowed you to remain stationed primarily within the capital rather than spending weeks traveling between noble estates, as most correspondence could simply be delivered directly to your office.
Unfortunately, the convenience came with its own burdens. According to the Grand Chamberlain’s schedule, you were expected to report before the Fire Lord several times a week, often carrying enough scrolls and reports to make you question every life decision that had led you there.
However, lying on the Fire Lord’s bed while he personally reviewed your reports was most certainly not listed among your official responsibilities.
The realization settled heavily over you as you adjusted yourself against the mountain of pillows supporting your back.
The mattress beneath you was far too comfortable for your own good, the blankets warm from the fire crackling nearby, and the steady sound of rain striking the palace windows only made the temptation to sleep stronger.
Beside you, Zuko sat in a chair he had personally dragged beside it several minutes earlier. One leg rested over the other while a growing pile of scrolls occupied his lap and the small table at his side.
Every few moments he would unroll another report, scan the contents, and begin reading aloud before pausing to ask for your opinion as though this arrangement were completely normal.
Then, a soft knock barely registered over the steady drumming of rain against the palace windows.
You were already pushing yourself upright before the chamber doors had fully opened, instinct overriding the exhaustion weighing down your limbs.
If any servant sees you lying down on the Fire Lord's bed, they may misinterpret things.
Your hasty movement immediately made your head swim. The room tilted for half a second before steadying again, but it was enough to remind you that perhaps Zuko had not been exaggerating quite as much as you originally thought.
“Ah, ah.” Uncle Iroh stepped inside carrying a lacquered tray balanced carefully in both hands, steam curling upward from a teapot and several covered bowls. “You should lay back down on the bed.”
"Uncle Iroh!" You glanced toward the open doorway behind him and then toward the bed beneath you as if suddenly remembering where exactly you were.
"You should remain lying down." Iroh smiles as he closes the door behind him, the other hand carrying a tray with a pot and three cups.
“No.” You protested, already attempting to shift toward the edge of the mattress. “What if somebody comes in and sees me lying on Zuko’s bed?”
The concern seemed entirely reasonable to you.
Unfortunately, Uncle Iroh looked genuinely puzzled by it.
For the two members of the Royal Family, what you had just said sounded so absurd.
“My dear...” He said gently, setting the tray atop a nearby table then laughs at your overly worried expression. “It's only me.” His shoulders shrug to prove his statement, then glancing back at his won nephew who had asked him to be there.
You opened your mouth to argue further.
“I have also watched you and Zuko sleep inside the same tent when you were children.” Iroh continued as he prepares to pour tea on the cups.
The words struck with all the grace of a falling boulder. You were the only one who was quiet while
Beside the bed, Zuko made a strangled noise of disbelief.
The sincerity on his face somehow made the statement infinitely worse.
Before you could recover enough dignity to formulate a response, a familiar finger pressed directly against the center of your forehead.
Your head tipped backward onto the pillows.
Iroh looked pleased from what his nephew just did, and making use of the situation, he gave a look to Zuko who starts playing all innocent and covering his face with a scroll.
That was when the pungent bitter smell of herbs hit your nose.
The pungent, herbal steam rising from the cup was enough to make your stomach roll. It didn’t smell like a soothing tea—it smelled like boiled roots, crushed dirt, and pure malice.
Uncle Iroh’s smile remained bright and entirely unbothered as he set the steaming ceramic cup on the bedside table with an elegant, deliberate finality.
“A special blend, tailored specifically to combat a lingering fever.” Iroh announced warmly, gesturing toward the cup. “Drink it while it is hot, my dear. The bitterness is a small price to pay for your health.”
You stared at the dark, murky liquid, horror evident on your face. “Uncle Iroh, with all due respect, I think this might actually be considered as a deadly potion.”
Behind his scroll, Zuko finally lowered the parchment, revealing a look that was far more worried than strict. He dropped the scroll into his lap and leaned closer to the bed, his golden eyes filled with an earnest, pleading softness.
“Please just drink it.” Zuko murmured, his voice losing all its usual royal formality. “If you don’t…” He had no choice, Zuko had to resort to this. “I can just tell Uncle Royu that you challenged Mayor Jiarong to an Agni Kai because of his attitude towards—“
“Oh… She did what—“ Iroh went along with Zuko’s antics and to their own delight, you immediately took the cup and downed all the bitter medicine in one go.
The taste was instantly punitive, coating your tongue in an unforgiving, earthy sludge. You choked down the final drop, your face contorting in pure misery as you set the empty cup back down.
Before you could even complain, Iroh chuckled softly. “Don’t worry. I already knew about your trouble with Mayor Jiarong in the Shuhon Province. I just kept it from your father to spare him the stress.” He says while rubbed his round belly and smiled at you.
You looked from Zuko to Uncle Iroh, your face full of utter betrayal.
The secret was supposed to stay between you and Zuko. You hadn't actually fought the Agni Kai—Zuko had stepped in and stopped it before it could happen—but just the fact that you had challenged a mayor would make your father gain more white hair that he despises.
Your hard glare contrasted Zuko’s soft smile.
Iroh chuckled softly, pouring a fresh, pale amber liquid into clean cups. “The chamomile tea and the ember cakes should make the bitter taste go away entirely.” He said gently, patting your shoulder. “I believe I shall head to the kitchens now. A warm bowl of congee will do wonders for your recovery.”
Wrapped in the comfort of the large bed and the care of the them, you looked up at the old man, your voice quiet and genuine. “Thank you, Uncle Iroh.”
Iroh’s smile widened with deep warmth. He offered a knowing nod, cast a pleased glance at his nephew—who was busy brushing a stray crumb from your blanket and quietly closed the door of Zuko’s chambers leaving the two of you.
The rain continued to hammer against the glass, casting long, blurred shadows across the room. After Iroh left, you both quietly returned to the reports, the soft rustle of parchment filling the silence between the rolling thunder.
But your focus was gone. Your eyes drifted toward the heavy window, watching the dark gray clouds swirl over the Caldera. You wondered if the storm reached beyond the Fire Nation. You wondered if Aang was caught in it right now, wherever he was, and if he was safe.
"Is something wrong with them?"
Zuko’s voice broke your thoughts. He was looking at the bedside tray. You had finished the chamomile tea, but the ember cakes sat completely untouched.
The sight of the pastries should have made you happy.
Ember cakes had always been one of your favorites ever since childhood. You used to steal them from cooling trays in your mother’s kitchens and blame the missing pastries on either your father or your maternal grandparents.
Yet looking at them now made your stomach feel strangely unsettled.
“Are they not your favorite anymore?” Zuko asked softly, thinking that maybe even your favorite food that he knew from your childhood had changed.
“They are.” You answered quietly.
Your fingers absently smoothed the blanket gathered over your lap. The fabric was warm beneath your hands, but the warmth did little to ease the strange feeling sitting heavily in your chest.
“I just don’t have much of an appetite right now.”
For the past few weeks, your appetite had been strange. Some meals went untouched. Some mornings, you only realized you hadn’t eaten because someone else pointed it out. Food wasn’t making you sick, exactly. It just didn’t sound appealing anymore.
Your sleep had become lighter. Your thoughts wandered too often. There was a constant heaviness sitting somewhere between your chest and stomach that refused to leave no matter how many times you tried ignoring it.
You blamed the fever.
You blamed work.
You blamed the stress of waiting.
Yet none of those explanations felt entirely right.
Sometimes it felt as though your mind never stopped spinning. As though something was constantly twisting inside your chest whenever Aang left, only easing whenever he returned.
And even then, the feeling never completely disappeared.
The question had been following you around for weeks now.
Spirits— maybe even months.
You were too conflicted to even point out what was the reason behind it.
Zuko watched you closely, a faint crease forming between his brows. His gaze lingered on your face for a moment longer, as though trying to figure out whether you were hiding something from him or simply too exhausted to explain it.
“Are you really that mad at me for making you drink the medicine?”
The question caught you off guard.
A small, tired laugh escaped you before you could stop it. “No! Of course not.”
You offered him a smile, hoping it looked more convincing than it felt. Whatever strange heaviness had settled inside you these past few weeks, it certainly wasn’t because of medicinal herbs or Uncle Iroh’s tea.
Zuko studied you for another second, unconvinced but unwilling to press further.
Instead, he leaned across the mattress and rested the back of his hand against your forehead.
The gesture was so familiar that you barely reacted to it anymore.
His skin felt warm against your chilled face. Warmer than it should have been, perhaps because everything else felt cold lately. For a few seconds, he simply left his hand there, quietly checking whether your fever had worsened.
You felt warmer than earlier, and you were beginning to feel cold rather than feel hot. Zuko withdrew his hand and carefully removed the reports from the bed before you could object.
“You should rest now.” He said, stacking the scrolls neatly together. “The medicine is going to kick in soon anyway.”
Unfortunately, the moment the words formed in your head, a wave of exhaustion crashed into you with surprising force.
Your limbs suddenly felt heavier. The room seemed softer around the edges. Even holding your eyes open required more effort than it had a few moments ago.
Maybe Uncle Iroh really did put something stronger in that tea.
The mattress dipped beneath your weight as you settled more comfortably against it. The warmth of the blankets, combined with the steady rhythm of rain outside, only made the growing drowsiness worse.
Brilliant white light illuminated the entire chamber for a split second.
The thunder followed immediately after.
The violent crack echoed through the room so loudly that your entire body tensed.
You flinched instinctively, pulling the blanket higher around yourself.
For a brief moment, your gaze lingered on the storm beyond the windows after being startled.
Despite the fever clouding your thoughts and the exhaustion weighing heavily on your body, you still found yourself wondering where Aang was.
Whether the storm had reached him too.
Whether Appa was flying through rain like this.
Whether he had found somewhere safe to rest.
The realization should have annoyed you by now. Even after being left behind again, even after spending days sick and disappointed, your first instinct was still to worry about him.
Zuko noticed how you got startled by the lightning.
Without saying anything, he stopped arranging the scrolls and crossed the room. The reports were set safely aside before he moved toward the towering windows overlooking the storm.
Another flash illuminated the dark clouds beyond the glass.
A moment later, Zuko drew the heavy crimson curtains shut.
The storm disappeared instantly.
The room was plunged into a warm amber glow cast by lanternlight and the crackling fireplace nearby. Without the flashes of lightning breaking through the windows, the chamber suddenly felt smaller, safer, and quieter.
You watched him as he adjusted the final curtain.
Then he turned away from the window.
For some reason, the sight made something inside your chest tighten.
Because he looked like he was finished. Like he had done what he needed to do, as if he might leave you alone now.
The thought arrived so suddenly that it startled you. You didn’t even understand why it bothered you so much. Yet the possibility of being left alone in the room felt strangely unbearable.
“Are you going to leave?” You asked quietly.
The question made Zuko pause.
He looked back toward you, surprise briefly crossing his features. Neither of you spoke as the rain continued outside and the fire cracked softly, then Zuko took a step closer to the bed.
“I can…” He began carefully, his voice lowering as though unwilling to disturb the peaceful quiet settling over the room. “Do you want me to?”
Usually, the answer would have been automatic.
Whenever Aang was called away, whenever Appa arrived for another journey, whenever duty demanded something from him, you always stepped aside.
"You should go."
"They need you."
You had said those words so many times over the years that they almost felt rehearsed.
You were used to being understanding, waiting, and watching someone walk away leaving you alone.
But looking up at Zuko now, with the medicine making your thoughts slower and the storm rumbling somewhere beyond the curtains, those familiar words refused to come.
“No.” You admitted softly. The answer surprised even you. Your fingers tightened slightly around the blanket. “Stay.” You asked of him.
For someone who's mind was clouded with fever, resting in an unfamiliar chamber, you did not want to be left alone—at least, not today.
Something shifted in Zuko’s expression.
A genuine smile slowly appeared on his face, small and warm enough that it made him look less like the Fire Lord and more like the boy you had known since childhood.
Without hesitation, he returned to the chair beside your bed.
The edge of the blanket had slipped from your shoulder at some point. Zuko reached over and pulled it back into place before tucking it securely around you.
The gesture was simple, almost absentminded. Yet it made the strange ache in your chest ease just a little.
“I’m staying.” Was what you heard from Zuko before your eyes started to close on their own.
But even surrounded by the safe, steady warmth of the Fire Nation palace with Zuko's nearby presence, your dreams immediately took you back to the open sky, chasing the familiar, fleeting image of your lover.
Even in your dreams, you still longed for Aang, chasing whatever fleeting memory of him your mind could conjure.
No matter how deep your sleep was, your heart always reached out for the one person who was always just out of reach.
The iron tang of blood and sweet cloves lingered on your tongue, a miserable reminder of the loose tooth you had spent the last two hours crying over.
At six years old, your family’s vast estate felt entirely too big and empty, especially today.
Your parents were locked away in the grand solar with Lady Ursa and Prince Ozai, locked in endless, tense discussions regarding provincial borders and territorial taxes.
Princess Azula had already vanished into the courtyard garden hours ago, having made it abundantly clear that she would rather "feed" the turtle-ducks than play with a "crying baby" and her brother.
He sat cross-legged on the polished floorboards of your bedroom, looking profoundly uncomfortable but fiercely determined to stay.
Zuko's mother, Ursa had practically forced him to accompany you today, desperate for her son to socialize with someone his own age, given the close bond she shared with your own mother.
“You shouldn’t have eaten so many sugar-plums.” Zuko mumbled, though his golden eyes were wide with genuine concern as he watched you press a cold cloth to your swollen cheek.
“They were delicious.” You sniffled, your voice muffled and thick with an oncoming fever. You had already been subjected to the absolute tyranny of your family nannies, who had pinched your nose and forced a chalky, bitter medicine down your throat before leaving you to rest.
The experience had left you exhausted, irritable, and terribly lonely.
A soft knock rattled the screen doors of your. One of the palace servants bowed low, her voice echoing into the quiet room. “Prince Zuko? Princess Azula is already waiting in the palanquin. She demands your presence immediately so you do not miss your afternoon firebending lessons with the master.”
Zuko’s posture stiffened. You could see the immediate conflict flashing across his young face. He loved firebending. He desperately wanted to please his father, and keeping Azula waiting always promised a swift, cruel retribution.
Sensing the shift, your eyes welled with fresh tears. You reached out from beneath your heavy silk blankets, your small hand weakly catching the hem of his crimson sleeve. “Are you going to go?” You whispered, your feverish mind terrified of the dark, quiet room.
Zuko looked down at your hand, then back toward the closed door. His jaw set into a stubborn, familiar line.
“Tell my sister to go on without me.” Zuko announced to the servant, his voice carrying a rare streak of defiance. “Tell her I'm staying here.”
The servant hesitated, but bowed and withdrew. True to his word, Zuko didn't leave your side. He may have mumbled grumpily how you should have listened to him and contained your obsession towards sugar-plums, but he complained so while helping you put cold compress on your swollen cheek.
As the fever finally took hold and pulled you into a heavy sleep, he dragged a mountain of your fluffy dolls and stuffed fire-ferrets right next to you.
When your mother and Ursa finally checked on the room hours later, they found the young prince fast asleep, his small hand still firmly holding yours amidst a sea of toys.
The sharp, rhythmic stamp of a wooden seal hitting parchment shattered the memory.
Zuko blinked, the heavy fog of the past clearing instantly from his mind. He lowered the official royal stamp onto the desk, his hand lingering on the handle as the distant roar of thunder rumbled through the palace windows.
Slowly, his gaze drifted away from the endless pile of noble concerns and trade reports settled on the table near his bed—near you.
The room was silent save for the drumming rain, sealed in a safe, warm amber glow behind the heavy velvet curtains he had drawn just an hour prior. There you lay, buried deep within his silk pillows, your breathing shallow and even as the fever-reducing medicine finally did its work.
Then a sharp, hesitant knock rattled the heavy wooden doors of the chamber.
Zuko didn’t look up from his desk. He simply ignored it, just as he had ignored the several other knocks and muffled calls from his Grand Chamberlain over the past hour.
The servants outside knew better than to enter the Fire Lord’s private quarters without explicit permission, so the footsteps eventually retreated once more.
The room settled back into silence.
Only the scratching of Zuko’s brush against parchment remained, and the parchment scroll that were carefully rolled back up to make no noise.
But a few minutes later, another knock sounded, this one was more firm, different and familiar.
The heavy doors opened slightly and Uncle Iroh’s broad silhouette appeared in the gap.
Before the older man could speak, Zuko immediately raised a finger to his lips.
His uncle followed his nephew's gaze toward the bed.
The medicine had finally done its work. Curled beneath the blankets, you looked smaller somehow, free from the tension that had lingered around you for weeks. Even your breathing sounded lighter now.
For the first time all day, you looked like someone who was actually resting.
Understanding immediately softened Iroh’s expression.
The older man stepped inside and carefully shut the door behind him before making his way toward the desk.
“The Grand Chamberlain and several ministers have come looking for you.” Iroh whispered. “The admirals are already gathered in the military council chamber. They are prepared to report on the recent attacks along the water borders. The matter is quite urgent, Prince Zuko.”
The report beneath his hands remained unfinished.
Several official seals still awaited his approval. An entire room full of ministers was waiting for him.
Yet his eyes drifted back toward the bed anyway.
Toward the woman who had spent the entire day insisting she was fine while running a fever.
The woman who had come to the palace just to distract herself from being left behind again.
The woman who had looked at him with tired eyes and, for perhaps the first time in years, admitted she didn’t want someone to leave.
“They can wait a little longer, Uncle....” Zuko said quietly.
The answer was not what any Fire Lord should have given.
Yet somehow, it did not surprise Iroh. A small smile tugged at the older man’s face.
Zuko looked back toward you, his expression softened immediately.
Hours ago, he had been prepared to attend meetings, review reports, and spend the evening dealing with border concerns. Instead, he found himself sitting beside a sleeping woman who had only asked one thing of him all day.
One that the world rarely allowed the person you wanted to stay to actually grant.
One that nobody had granted you lately.
Zuko knew the meeting was crucial. He knew the admirals were waiting, that the borders were tense, and that the crown demanded his absolute attention. The entire world was constantly pulling at him, demanding he be the Fire Lord first and a person second.
But perhaps, the world could wait.
A genuine smile appeared on Zuko’s face. “She wanted me to stay.” He murmured. The soft gaze of his golden eyes never leaving you.
BIA'S NOTE: You might wonder why it's too long, this chapter is actually TWO CHAPTERS forged into ONE 😭 I'M SORRY! The next chapters will be shorter than this! I hope you enjoyed!
I know Olivia's new album tells a story with its track's chronological order, but this mini-series does not follow that. I'd say that this mini-series has more of a "happy ending" rather than the album itself. BUT the angst is very much there!
