The wind blew a hundred tiny shards of ice into Bolin's face, like Korra in a particularly bad mood. He felt like he'd been walking in circles for hours, and if his feet didn't hurt it was because he couldn't feel them anymore. "Let's go camping in the mountains with my family, you said. It'll be fun, you said."

"Are you sure I said that?" said Iroh. "Because it sounds more like something you'd say."

"True," Bolin admitted. "It has been fun, mostly. I thought your grandfather would be scary, but he's totally not. Heh, leaf me alone, I'm bushed." That was a good one. "Your niece, on the other hand . . . ."

A glowing grin spread across Iroh's face and melted the snow all around his head. Not fair. "I keep telling Ursa, I don't care if she's only thirteen, that girl's ready for officer's school. That pattern of lights she made to lead us off the path? Brilliant!"

"You are super cute when you get all excited about military stuff," said Bolin. "But we're still lost in a snowstorm?"

"I know! Imagine what she'll do when we let her loose on the enemy!"

"I am the enemy, to her." Oops. Iroh was scowling now, Bolin hated that. But since he'd started, he might as well finish. "I'm pretty sure she was planning to marry you herself once she got a bit older."

"Don't be absurd," Iroh snapped. "That's—"

"Completely traditional for Fire Nation royalty?" Bolin suggested innocently.

"My family's old-fashioned, but we're not that old-fashioned. Zara does have a head full of epic poems, maybe." Iroh walked into a snowdrift as deep as his knees, and stumbled to a stop. "We're not finding our way back in this, are we."

Bolin peered as far as he could into the white distance. "Since neither of us can bend water or air, I'm going with . . . nope." He wasn't nearly as grumpy about that as he'd been a minute ago. He was having an idea. "We'll have to wait it out."

"I'd think you were hypothermic, but you have that mad gleam in your eye about half the time anyway," said Iroh. "I'm almost afraid to ask . . . ."

"Come on." Bolin dragged Iroh over to the nearest hillside—that was something he could find, anyway—and laid a gloved hand against the rock. He brought forth a wall, another one, a roof, and made a bow with a flourish. "Your palace, sir."

"My palaces are much nicer than this," Iroh grumbled. He cupped a small flame in his hand, playing it over the smooth curves of the walls, the entrance angled to keep out the wind. "Or, well, maybe not. It certainly is cozy."

"I can think of something you could do to make it cozier, hotman," said Bolin.

"Oh, right." Iroh transferred the flame from his hand into the dip in the center of the floor, where it blazed up and crackled happily without any need for fuel.

"Niiice," said Bolin. "But not what I had in mind." He undid the fastenings on his parka and peeled it off. Iroh just stared. "Well? Come on, man, I need skin-to-skin contact. You don't want me to freeze, do you?"

"That would be bad," Iroh agreed, shrugging out of his own coat. "Clearly."

And in short order, they were snuggled up in front of the fire, Bolin's parka draped over both of them. "I told you this camping trip was gonna be fun," Bolin mumbled into Iroh's chest.

Iroh brushed Bolin's hair out of the way and kissed him on the ear. "So you did," he said.