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When Zuko was seventeen, he asked Uncle why he always treated him so differently– so much gentler –than his own father had.
Iroh had taken a long slow sip of his ginseng tea, and then gazed at Zuko with sad amber eyes. “I cannot speak for my brother,” he answered eventually. “But I believe we have very different views on how to treat those who are important to us.”
Zuko clenched his jaw, nodding stiffly as he ignored his own matcha. “Not a proponent of tough love?” he asked with a humorless huff of a laugh.
Iroh frowned. “Why would I be tough with someone I love?”
That had rendered Zuko speechless.
He thinks of that conversation often, even all these years later– especially now that he has a child of his own.
Izumi . His daughter, so fun and clever and kind.
As much as Zuko finds satisfaction in seeing the newly-reformed Fire Nation slowly begin to heal– to carefully and thoroughly restore what its previous rulers sought to destroy for good –his favorite days are the ones where he has no meetings to attend and no letters to read and no policies to review.
He likes days like these, snuggled up with his daughter in her bed and taking turns reading to each other.
It’s a story he remembers his mother reading to him when he was Izumi’s age– one about a secret magical world, one that gave Zuko hope that there was something more to life than the confinement of harsh imperial architecture or facing his father’s furious disappointment or falling for Azula’s cunning cruelty.
Why would I be tough with someone I love?
Zuko thinks of when he first started training with the military, and how his commanding officer always had the same response when a recruit was suffering from an injury, especially if it was a mental or emotional one.
“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”
Especially because he was the Fire Lord’s unfavored child, Zuko made sure to work harder than anybody else and to never, ever complain.
It wasn’t until– well, until very recently, that Zuko understood just how wrong his commanding officer had been.
Zuko’s father intentionally setting his face aflame hadn’t killed him. Being banished from his home hadn’t killed him. Realizing that in order to restore his so-called honor he would have to exploit and hurt– and maybe even take a life –hadn’t killed him.
But all of that certainly hadn’t made him stronger.
If anything, it made him weaker. Those experiences, those awful truths, had slithered into his bloodstream like an undetectable but lethal poison– one that had left him so broken for so long.
Zuko had never understood why his father had done what he had to him, and he understands even less now that he has Izumi.
Her gold eyes are starting to droop with drowsiness, so Zuko kisses her and tucks her under her blankets properly.
“I wanna finish the story,” she pouts sleepily, even as she snuggles her stuffed dragon.
“We’ll read the next chapter tomorrow,” Zuko says, stroking her long raven hair.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
He gazes at her fondly as she finally succumbs to sleep, amazed and grateful to be her parent.
Adulthood, let alone parenthood, had been something that once weighed heavily on Zuko’s mind– it was as if he finally figured out who he was, and he finally had friends , and then suddenly he had a troubled nation to look after. But in many ways, his friends were each traversing parallel paths, and it only brought them closer together as they navigated this strange yet hopeful new world.
Most of them have children of their own, actually, and it is an immense relief in so many ways. It is cathartic speaking with Toph, who similarly wants to raise her own children in an entirely different environment than the stifling and belittling one in which she was brought up. It is inspiring to visit with Katara, who demonstrates the lovely little traditions she and her parents had before the war. It is hilarious to listen to Sokka’s ridiculous but sweet worries about the idea of raising children, even though Zuko doubts that it will happen anytime soon. (Not that he thinks Sokka will be a bad parent– on the contrary, actually –but Suki has made it clear to everyone that she isn’t interested in becoming pregnant while she’s leader of the Kiyoshi warriors.)
And then there is Aang.
Zuko is at peace with the fact that he will never be at peace– not when it comes to the Avatar. Zuko and his ancestors have caused Aang and his own ancestors so much anguish and sorrow. It is the least Zuko can do– to feel guilt and to try to atone, even though true atonement is impossible.
Aang.
He was robbed of a childhood because of the war Zuko’s great-grandfather started. He was nearly killed because Zuko relentlessly pursued him and fought him. He is tasked with rebuilding his own home nation, which was destroyed over a century ago.
Aang.
Zuko loves him so very, very much.
He had loved Mai, too. But that was a different sort of love– one borne of circumstance and familiarity and desperation. Zuko still loves her, just not in the way she needs or deserves; the only reason why he is able to live with himself is because Mai feels exactly the same way.
“You need to tell him how you feel,” Mai had said during a quiet, private moment during her and Ty Lee’s wedding reception.
Zuko closed his eyes as she smoothed back his bangs from his forehead. “I can’t,” he whispered. “He’s happy. Katara’s happy. I would never mess with that.”
Mai playfully tugged on his hair until he opened his eyes again. “I was happy with you,” she reminded him with a smirk. “And now I’m happy with Ty.”
Zuko rolled his eyes, but was unable to fight back his smile. “We can’t all be so lucky.”
Mai raised an elegant eyebrow. “Why not?”
Before Zuko could respond, he felt a tiny hand tugging at his robes.
“Dad!” Izumi gazed up at him with wide eyes. “Move! I want to dance with Mom.”
Zuko stared at her with a comically shocked face, and then picked her up to smother her with kisses. She burst out in giggles, pushing him away.
“My own daughter, ordering me around,” he complained fondly, passing her into Mai’s waiting arms.
Mai laughed, gliding back to the dance floor. Zuko watched, smiling as she and Ty Lee swung Izumi around.
Meanwhile, Toph was aggressively dancing– her movements less like dancing and more like the way she earth-bends –with a young man who was gazing at her with such uninhibited rapture, endearingly pathetic. (Zuko wasn’t one to judge.) Iroh was shamelessly flirting with an older woman Zuko recognized from the lower ring of wartime Ba Sing Se. A tipsy Sokka was forcing a bemused Suki to sit down so a hired artist could sketch a caricature of them penguin-sledding. Katara and Aang were showing off their water-bending skills to an awed group of children.
Zuko smiled, full of love and contentment– an unfamiliar feeling that he was only just beginning to accept was now a part of his life.
(And if there was also a lingering sense of longing, and of melancholy– well. That was a feeling he had been accustomed to for as long as he could remember.
It was a laughably small price to pay, in his qualified opinion.)
***
Zuko remembers the moment he fell in love with Aang.
Or more accurately– the moment he realized he was in love with Aang.
It was shortly after the war, when there was a brief respite of calm. Just as the sun rose, Zuko went for a walk and found Aang sitting on a mountain, the morning fog and sage-green pine tree branches framing the view below like a painting. Aang had been stroking Druk’s snout, and Druk had his eyes closed as he nuzzled closer to Aang’s gentle touch.
“We’re right where we’re meant to be, aren’t we, boy?” Aang said, so quiet that Zuko could only hear the words because he was downwind. “We’re both out of our own time, but… We’re meant to be here.”
Druk exhaled lazily, benign smoke furling from his nostrils.
Aang laughed, and continued petting him.
Zuko watched, something fluttering in his heart. The sun continued to rise, and when it was high in the sky both the Avatar and the dragon flew away.
***
If we knew each other back then, do you think we could have been friends, too?
It is hard not to regret the past.
Yes , Zuko wishes his teenage self had answered . Of course we would have been friends. In fact, let’s start being friends right now .
Ridiculous.
After all– he and the Avatar are friends now, and that’s what counts. What’s more is that Kya and Izumi have become friends as well.
“What if I want to marry Kya one day?” Izumi had whispered shyly before bedtime the other night.
Zuko smiled broadly, so much so that he felt his scar ache with the stretch (as it always does when he experiences joy, which is strangely often as of late). “Then your mom and I will make sure you have the most fun wedding the four nations have ever witnessed.”
Izumi giggled, delighted. “Can I ride Druk down the aisle?”
Zuko kissed her forehead. “You’ll have to ask him yourself. But I’m sure he’d love the attention.”
Izumi and Kya’s closeness means that Zuko visits the Southern Water Tribe quite a lot, and vice versa. In the beginning, the diplomatic ties are tense; but soon enough the polarized nations build up trust. (It also helps that the Water Nation is severely lacking in spices, and the Fire Nation is severely lacking in, well– pretty much everything else.)
It’s good because it gives Zuko an added excuse to see Aang a lot.
It’s bad because it hurts for the same reason.
The last couple of visits to the Fire Nation, Aang has come with his children but without Katara.
“She’s taking over as Chief,” he had explained proudly, a big smile on his earnest face. “She’s a good leader. Sokka is too, but he wants to travel more with Suki. Kinda like an ambassador or something.”
Zuko nodded. “Katara will be a good Chief. And Sokka will be a good Kiyoshi warrior.”
Aang’s smile widened. “That’s what I thought.”
On a week when Izumi is with Mai and Ty Lee, Aang’s own children are back in the Southern Water Tribe with the rest of their family.
“Will you be leaving soon, too?” Zuko asks, trying to make his voice as neutral as possible.
Aang shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck. His head is shaved clean like always, but there is a soft fuzziness from his growing facial hair. (Zuko resists the ever-present urge to nuzzle his face against it like a cat.)
“Not yet,” Aang says, shrugging again.
“Mn,” Zuko nods, suppressing his delight. “Want to go for a flight?”
Aang lights up, his big gray eyes widening with excitement. “Appa or Druk?”
Zuko knocks their shoulders together.
“Why not both?”
***
The sky bison and red dragon weave through the clouds, circling each other playfully– just as friendly with each other as their human companions are.
Appa exhales a comically dramatic sigh when Druk slithers his lithe body like a dance, his scales glinting in the sunlight.
“Show off!” Aang laughs, delighted.
Druk preens, and so does Zuko; together, they continue to show off and simultaneously breath out an elegant stream of fire.
Aang laughs again. He launches himself off of Appa– who immediately gets distracted from a delicious bale of hay on the earth far below them –and breathes out a stream of fire as well.
“I love this!” Aang declares, all smiles as he lands gracefully to sit behind Zuko on Druk.
“Me too,” Zuko allows himself to admit.
Aang sighs, content, and wraps his wiry arms around Zuko’s waist.
Take the long way home , he silently begs Druk.
He’s not sure if Druk has understood, but maybe he has since it is long after nightfall before they reach the Fire Nation palace again.
Long enough that Zuko has memorized the weight of Aang snuggled against his back.
***
“Happy birthday, Zuko!”
Zuko’s automatic frown quickly melts into a small smile when turns around and is tackled into a warm hug. He huffs out a sigh and embraces Aang as closely as he will allow himself.
They’re on Ember Island, staying in the beach house for a couple days to recharge after visiting the rapidly expanding Republic City and before they meet the rest of the Gaang in Omashu for a diplomacy conference. It’s a rare vacation for both of them.
“How did you figure out today was my birthday?”
“I asked Iroh to tell me when it was. He said he’d only tell me if I could beat him at pai sho. It literally took years of practice. Sokka will probably go prematurely gray after all the tutoring I forced him into.”
Zuko laughs. “I’m sure Uncle would have told you anyway if you bribed him with rare tea or something.”
Aang sputters. “What! Why didn’t I think of that…” Finally, he pulls back from their hug and retrieves a small box from his pocket. “Happy birthday, Zuko,” he says again, this time quiet, and with a shy smile.
“You really didn’t need to get me anything,” Zuko futilely resists; Aang shoves the box in his hands.
“Open it!”
Zuko obeys, carefully undoing the blue ribbon and removing the box’s lid. He gasps quietly as he gazes inside, his eyes going wide.
It’s a necklace: a simple gold chain with a small red gemstone pendant.
“It’s from before the war,” Aang explains. “I found it when Sokka and I were exploring the ruins of an old Fire Nation village. I took it to the Sun Warriors, and they said it’s a mixture of ruby and a dragon’s scale. It used to be pretty common, obviously, when there were more dragons around… It’s supposed to make your firebending stronger when you wear it, and… And I guess it was tradition to give it to someone you care about.”
Zuko blinks.
That is an understatement.
Zuko remembers reading about dragon ruby jewelry– something he thought was a historical myth up until he discovered dragons were not extinct. In the books he found in the palace library, such jewelry were described as tokens of affection– and that they were a popular courting gift .
“Um,” Zuko says. “This is really lovely Aang. Thank you. But I don’t think you giving me this means what you think it means.”
Aang bites his lip and glances to the ground. “The Sun Warriors told me what it meant. Katara thought it was a good idea…”
Zuko freezes. “Katara?”
Aang nods, cheeks flushed as he makes eye contact again. “We’ve been separated for a while now. We’re not keeping it a secret, but with everything that’s been going on, we haven’t had the right opportunity to tell everyone.”
Zuko stares at him. “What… What are you saying?”
Aang sighs, and rubs the back of his neck. “I still care about Katara a lot, and I’m so grateful for the relationship we had, but… I realized a long time ago that my heart sorta belongs to someone else.” He shrugs, sheepish, and nods at the necklace Zuko is gripping tightly in his shaking fist. “I, um. Maybe I coulda done this better, but… I love you, Zuko. I love you so much.”
Zuko suddenly feels very cold, like all the fire pulsing through his veins has been snuffed out. “Why. Why are you doing this.”
Aang’s brow furrows, his big gray eyes full of emotion and concern. “I’m sorry, I know it’s a lot. But I didn’t want to lie to myself, or to you, anymore. I don’t expect anything from you, though I can’t deny that a part of me was wondering if you felt the same…” He exhales a nervous laugh. “Sometimes I catch you looking at me… I dunno how to describe it. It’s like you see me, but you also see the person I want to be. And it’s like… It’s like you think I’m beautiful or something.” Aang’s entire face goes red, and he glances away again.
“My feelings are not your burden,” Zuko says stiffly.
Aang’s eyes flicker back to his face, this time full of passion. “Your feelings aren’t a burden , Zuko.”
“So what, I’m supposed to believe that suddenly you forgive me after everything I put you through?” Zuko snaps.
“There is nothing to forgive,” Aang says calmly; cooly. His eyes are intense and narrowed, and Zuko is reminded just how dangerous and frightening the Avatar can be.
“I am a war criminal,” Zuko says, forcing himself to be just as calm.
“You switched sides, and helped us win the war,” Aang corrects him immediately.
“I kidnapped you,” Zuko continues.
“You saved me from Zhao.”
“I almost killed you.”
“ Azula is the one who–”
“Stop making excuses for me!” Zuko shouts. “I’ve hurt you, and so many others. Whatever you think you feel about me, you’re wrong. It’s just pity , or something. A savior complex.”
Aang flinches, as if he’s been slapped. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Zuko blinks, surprised. He can’t remember ever hearing Aang curse before.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Aang repeats. “Pity? A savior complex ? Fuck you, Zuko. It’s one thing to reject me, but don’t you dare pretend you know my feelings better than I do.” In an elegant yet aggressively blurry movement, he unsheathes his airbender staff and shakes out its fans. “I just… I need some time alone. Don’t follow me.”
With that, he takes flight, leaving Zuko behind.
Zuko watches him until he’s out of sight, and then sinks to his knees. The necklace, which he still clings to, feels too precious and valuable between his calloused fingers.
What have I done?
***
They are due to leave for the conference the next morning, but Aang has still not returned.
Zuko goes to the backyard to feed Appa, but he’s gone too.
Zuko sighs. He puts his hand in his pocket, the tips of his fingers smoothing over the dragon ruby; he certainly doesn’t deserve to wear it, but he can’t help but not carry it with him at least until he can return it to Aang.
As the hot sun steadily rises in the pale blue sky, Zuko does the one thing he can admit he’s pretty decent at: he writes a letter.
Dear Aang,
I know we will see each other soon, but I don’t know when we will get to be alone again– and frankly, I seem to be more articulate when I can write out what I’m thinking rather than foolishly stumbling over my words in the moment.
I am sorry. I am sorry for the past, and I am sorry for what I said when you were admirably honest about how you were feeling. You’re right– I don’t know your feelings better than you do, even if I don’t understand them.
Sometimes I am so desperate to be better than I used to be, and to be different from my father, that somehow I still lose sight of what’s important. One of the many lessons Uncle taught me is that it is wrong to be tough with those we love, and yet that is exactly what I did to you.
And I do love you, Aang, as scared as I am to admit that. Not because I am ashamed of loving you, but because I don’t think I deserve to.
And you were right about another thing– I do see you, and I see the person you want to be.
And you are very, very beautiful.
I hope you are doing okay, wherever you are. I hope that despite everything, we can still be comrades and friends.
Tell Appa I say hi.
Yours,
Zuko
***
It’s the first day of the conference, and Aang is still nowhere to be found.
“I’m sorry, King Bumi, Aang wrote to let me know he’s running late,” Katara says at dinner that evening. “But he should be here by tomorrow.”
Zuko feels a pang of guilt vibrate through his chest. He stares down at his plate of dumplings and stir-fry, poking at the food with chopsticks but unable to bring himself to eat.
Katara nudges his arm with a bony elbow. “How was your birthday, Zuko?” she asks with a pointed look.
“Fine,” he grunts.
Toph kicks his leg under the table. “Liar.”
***
“I’ll beat you up if you hurt him, you know.”
Zuko sighs. “I know.”
He had been restless after dinner, so instead of heading to his guest room, he decided to go for a long walk through the city wearing a hooded cloak to keep his identity hidden. He had nearly reached the night market downtown when he sensed a familiar presence walking slowly behind him.
(Katara is skilled at many things, but she didn’t exactly have the stealth training that the Blue Spirit had.)
He expects her to be glaring at him with hatred like the time he betrayed them all those years ago, but instead her big blue eyes are wide with worry.
“I told him that a sudden confession might not be the best approach,” she sighs. “I said that he should ease into it, but... Well, you know Aang.”
Zuko blinks, surprised. “Yeah. You’re, um. You’re not mad at me?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Katara laughs. “But if you’re asking if I’m mad at you because my ex is in love with you– then, no, I’m not.”
“Right...”
“You love him back, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
Katara sighs again, this time exasperated. “Boys are so stupid.”
“Yes.”
Katara punches him in the arm– playfully, but still strong enough that it will definitely leave a bruise.
“You’re my friend, too, Zuko,” she reminds him. “I want you to be happy.”
“Oh,” Zuko says quietly, and quickly wipes away the wetness from his eyes.
Katara smiles at him. “Buy me some flaming fire flakes?”
“Yeah of course,” Zuko agrees, already reaching for the coins in his pockets as they approach a vendor. “But don’t blame me when you can’t handle the spice.”
Katara rolls her eyes.
After her first bite, though, her face goes comically red.
***
Zuko readily accepts the fact that sleep won’t come tonight, so he sits at the desk in his room and gets some work done. After the first candle burns out, he lights another one, and he’s nearly finished with editing a reformed educational directive when the bedroom window suddenly shatters.
“Oops! Sorry!”
Zuko is crouched by the bed in a defensive position, flames licking at the center of his outstretched palms before he recognizes the person hovering outside.
“ Aang? ”
Aang smiles, sheepish and steps through the windowsill with the elegance of a dancer.
“Sorry,” he says again, this time with a laugh. “I tried to toss a pebble at your window. Y’know, like, to be romantic? Didn’t think it would just break like that…”
Zuko huffs out a surprised laugh, and forces his body to relax back into a normal state, standing upright.
“Well, as long as you tell King Bumi it was your fault.”
“Oh he won’t care about something like that,” Aang says, grinning. “But I’ll, uh– let me just–” With a quick wave of his hands, he sweeps up the broken glass in a neat pile and sends it into the waste bin. He shrugs. “Don’t wanna make the cleaning staff clean it up. I’ll pay Bumi tomorrow for the replacement.” He leans against the desk and crosses his arms, his gray eyes warm and intense in the flickering candlelight. “So.”
“So,” Zuko repeats, his mouth dry.
“So,” Aang says again, his grin widening. “You love me.”
Zuko swallows, and nods. “I do.”
Aang hums. “That’s good.”
“If you say so.”
Aang laughs. Zuko closes his eyes, memorizing the sound.
“Hey.”
Zuko reopens his eyes, gasping when he sees just how close Aang has suddenly gotten, just mere inches away.
(Aang might not have stealth training, but there is something eerily quiet about the way air benders move.)
“Hey,” Zuko answers eventually.
“I know we gotta talk or whatever,” Aang says. “But can we do that later?”
“Sure.”
“Great,” Aang says, stepping even closer. “Can I kiss you?”
“Sure.”
Aang laughs again, and is still laughing when he presses their lips together.
Zuko laughs, too, and kisses back harder.
***
Zuko wakes up the next morning to the wonderful sensation of strong, wiry arms wrapped around his waist. He hums, and snuggles closer.
“Zuko,” Aang whispers. “Good morning.”
“Mn. Morning.”
“Can I put the necklace on you? If you want.”
“Hmm?” Zuko glances to where Aang is pointing at the bedside table– where the dragon ruby is carefully placed. “Oh. Yeah. Please.”
Aang kisses him before reaching over to grab the chain. He straddles Zuko’s waist as he carefully secures the necklace around his slender neck. Aang kisses the pendant, then Zuko’s collarbone, and then Zuko’s lips.
“I love you,” he whispers.
Zuko cups his cheek, stroking over his stubble. “Thank you. I love you.”
Aang lays down properly, his head resting on Zuko’s chest.
“We should talk,” Zuko says.
Aang nods. “We should.”
But they are both silent for several minutes, enjoying the warmth of the morning sunlight shining through the broken window.
“My mother would have adored you,” Zuko says eventually.
Aang shifts to look Zuko in the eye. “Yeah?”
“Mn.”
“What happened to her?”
Zuko sighs. “It’s a long story.”
“I’d like to hear it, if that’s okay.”
“Yeah. It’s okay.”
Zuko takes a deep breath, and nods.
And then they talk.