His wife was leaving the palace walls, and His Formidable Highness Firelord Zuko felt his heart constrict in his chest like a brutal fist.
He watched her, poised within an imperial carriage drawn by two of the tamest ostrich horses he had ever encountered—gifts from Earth King Kuei, who, the Firelord was happy to hear, was finally settling into leadership after his long-traveled hiatus. Zuko had handpicked these gentle creatures for today's venture, but their inclusion did little to calm him.
He watched her, and she watched him back, the impressive carelessness she had taken years to perfect rolling off her in waves. One pale hand rested atop the firm roundness of her belly, and the relaxed smirk she wore said more to him than any linguist could possibly comprehend. She was resplendent.
His shoulders stiffened as her smirk grew. He was not ready for this.
"Check the harnesses," he said to General Ba, eyes never straying from the vision of (completely, infuriatingly stubborn) loveliness in the carriage.
Ba, barely suppressing an eye twitch, turned smartly to his royal commander. "Your Highness, I feel I must inform you that my men have checked and rechecked the beasts' harnesses a good four times, and..."
"Check them again," Zuko cut in, silencing the general. His tone conjured images of steel blades drawn through flame. Razor-edged and seething.
Ba nodded coolly and signaled the two soldiers beside the carriage, who expertly hid sighs of exasperation as they once more went about their orders.
"Will you leave them alone?" Mai's voice floated across the courtyard, smooth and level as the water in the turtle duck pond. His stony gaze snapped back to her, but not before catching Ba disguise a smile. Of course she had chosen the exact moment he'd looked away to speak. It was all part of the game.
Well, she wouldn't be getting away so easily. Everything would be painstakingly accounted for and readdressed until the ends of the earth, if need be. Because he loved her and he was the Firelord and he said so.
He squared his shoulders and began closing the distance between them.
The smug expression on her face dissolved into something warmer as he approached. "I'm pregnant, Zuko. Not porcelain."
The fist around his heart squeezed again, but in a clumsy, acutely delightful sort of way. "You," he murmured, stopping before her window, "are far more precious than any porcelain."
"You," she replied, reaching down a palm to sweetly caress his cheek—right below his scar—"are freaking out."
Zuko sighed and grasped her hand in his own, brushing his lips across her knuckles. His eyelids fluttered briefly at the scent of her. "I worry. Say hello to Katara and our always-busyAvatar for me."
"We will, we will," interjected a restless Ty Lee from the seat facing the Firelady. Her eyes rolled beneath the elaborate Kiyoshi war paint. "And nobody's coming near your sweetheart or the little tummy-heir while I'm here, Mr. Firelord Nitpick. So can we please maybe go now?"
Mai genuinely smiled for the first time that morning. The amusement in the deep gold of her eyes transfixed him. "You heard her. I have the best. You covered everything."
"Everything?" He didn't believe her.
"Everything," she deadpanned, blinking slowly. "Eleven times."
He lifted his fingers to touch her face in return, and they stayed frozen in that moment for what seemed like eternity. It still wasn't enough, not for all he'd fought through for this girl, this warrior. The time they'd spent apart was merely a shadow on the road at their backs, now—one of many memories the Firebender preferred not to revisit. He had no want to miss her so deeply again. His son or daughter was curled snug inside her, and oh, how he wished he could go along. A sunset away from her would seem like forever, as well. He knew.
Ty Lee clicked her tongue, flipping her braid over her shoulder. "You guys are too cute!"
The look Mai shot her friend was positively venomous. Spell broken, Zuko stepped back from the carriage, fingers threading through his wife's as they separated. "Be safe."
She reclined into the plush of the lavish bench, shaking her head as though he were still a ridiculous teenager. Perhaps, to her, he always would be. "Yes, dear." Then, softly, "I love you."
The fist squeezed so tightly, he thought his heart might burst. "I love you, too." He waved to Ba, who gestured ecstatically to the driver. The ostrich horses pawed the ground, and the carriage started toward the walls' grand gate.
But not before Zuko checked the harnesses one last time. Personally.