When Zuko first joined their group, Aang expected him to be like Toph, resistant to outward displays of affection. He had reacted with embarrassment at first, but it was a surprise how quickly he warmed to it. Once Aang gave it more thought, it was almost heartbreaking, the way he leaned into every hug, or bumped his shoulders against theirs sitting around the fire. He flashed shy smiles, as if he were still working out whether all of this was allowed. His affection was reserved. The kind of affection you would expect to receive from a prince.

He was still like that, a little. Five years had not been enough time to wear away his hesitation completely. There was strength in the warmth he offered now, though it was often silent.

Zuko's embrace was tighter than usual when he greeted them. It was months since Aang and Katara had seen him last. One of the more unfortunate consequence of being Fire Lord was the fact that he was much more firmly bound to the capitol now, kept there dealing with matters of state. When they saw him these days it was usually because they were in the Fire Nation and staying at the Palace.

This visit was no exception. They'd come for a conference being hosted in the capitol. A small group of progressive herbalists approached Zuko months prior with the idea for what they hoped would become an annual event. Three days of medical professionals talking about chi paths, sharing plant drying techniques and swapping ointment recipes seemed dull on its face, but Zuko was treating it as an opportunity for cultural outreach. He welcomed any chance to bring people together in the Fire Nation. The three of them having nearly a week to catch up was a lucky side benefit.

They arrived on Appa at dusk, landing at the Palace stables. This was their usual tactic when they were tired and wanted to avoid crowds. The stables were at the rear of the compound and they could stroll through the gardens on the perimeter to reach the guest wing, which was exactly what they ended up doing. Zuko embraced them both and excused the attendants before escorting them to their room. Aang's boots scuffed the stone tile path as they walked together, unable to keep his weariness from showing. The gardens were illuminated by the last muted colors of the sunset and torchlight.

"You're early," Zuko remarked as they made their way past the turtleduck pond, "I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow."

"I hope you don't mind," Aang said, unnecessarily. "We've been traveling so much lately, we needed the downtime."

"An Air Nomad needed a break from traveling?" Zuko drawled, looking past Aang to turn an unconvinced eye toward Katara. She smiled and Aang returned it with sympathy.

"I needed the downtime," she admitted. "And it seemed like a good idea to beat the crowd. It'll give us a few days to put our feet up."

"Well, you're always welcome here," Zuko replied.

They entered the guest wing and talked briefly about their trip (which was uneventful) and Ba Sing Se (Uncle sent his regards). Zuko waited in the hallway once they arrived at their room, allowing them to go in before he followed. He paused on the threshold, leaning against the doorjamb, arms folded across his chest. Aang lit the lamps with a lazy flick of his wrist before seating himself on the bench situated beside the door. He began pulling off his boots.

"Do you want to come in?" Katara offered. Zuko shook his head.

"It's late and I'm sure you two are tired. Get some sleep. I'll see you both in the morning."

Katara set her bag down with a grateful smile and pulled him into another hug. He returned it, eyes closed.

"I'm sorry it's been so long," she murmured to him before stepping back.

He shrugged, "It's all right. I know how it is."

"Still, though," Aang said, straightening to look up at them, "We meant to visit sooner. We would have if it weren't for that mess in Senlin Village." He gestured between them with a smirk, "I should have just sent you two. You would have figured out what was going on faster than I did. You're the resident experts on impersonating spirits, after all."

Katara crossed her arms, pretending offense, though the coy curl of her lips spoiled the effect somewhat. She touched her fingertips to her chest.

"I prefer to think I represented the Painted Lady, if you don't mind."

He chuckled. "Katara, she was there."

"The point is," she went on, turning her attention back to Zuko with an amused roll of her eyes, "We missed you. And I hate to think of you spending all of your time cooped up in this place with only attendants and diplomats as company." She returned his sad smile and added, "Try to find some time to come to Ba Sing Se. Uncle misses you, too."

He nodded, "I will. And thank you. For thinking of me."

Katara gave a single nod, drawing in a deep breath.

"Okay," she sighed out, "I need to go soak in the tub until I start to doze off." She turned and went in the direction of the bathroom with a wave, "Good night, Zuko."

They heard the door to the bathroom slide open. Aang rocked forward on the balls of his feet to stand.

"I'm going to go and uh…make sure she doesn't drown," he said, pointing after her.

Zuko charged past the ridiculousness of this statement and the opportunity for any elaboration, "Breakfast in the morning? If you let the attendants know when you're up we can take it on the balcony in my room."

"Sure." Aang hesitated. He was on the verge of saying something else but instead settled for meeting him in the doorway for another embrace. Just as Zuko was about to pull away, Aang squeezed him harder for a second.

"Thanks again," he murmured before he released him.

Zuko nodded and stepped out into the hall. Aang waited, watching him for a moment as he turned and walked away, a solitary figure dwarfed by the open, empty space of the hallway. He closed the door.

The squeak of knobs preceded the splash of water running in the bathroom and it almost startled him. The sound carried the echo of Katara's presence. He felt suddenly aware of being alone in the room, and it confused him.

Aang's fingers brushed his scalp, the motions so automatic he barely registered the sensation. He let his hand rest on the back of his neck, eyes downcast and unfocused.

He breathed out a melancholy sigh.

XxXxX

Breakfast the next morning was a subdued affair. Aang and Katara seemed tired and Zuko wondered if all of their recent traveling was wearing them down more than they let on. The three of them looked out over the Capitol. They sipped tea and discussed the conference. Katara was looking forward to the opportunity to spend a few days with her peers, and was planning on spending the day doing some research in the palace library to brush up on her herbalism. Aang was indulging in their exceptionally open schedule and had nothing planned apart from an afternoon nap.

They didn't see each other again until mid-morning, when Zuko came looking for Katara. He had installed a shallow pool in the gym for them years ago and they were taking advantage of it, doing some waterbending practice before lunch.

When he entered the gym, Katara's back was to the door. Both of them were soaked and Aang's laughter echoed toward the front of the room. Standing in front of her, he ran his hand across his scalp to flick away some of the water. He leaned in to whisper something and Katara shoved at his chest with a feigned gasp of shock. Aang shrugged and spoke again, his smile widening into a grin as he moved closer to her. Zuko caught the end of the conversation when he reached the edge of the pool.

"You always act like I'm the crude one when you're the one who starts it," he was saying. "Which one of us was raised by monks here?"

"Yes, you're the very picture of virtuous chastity," she replied, her voice dry, bending the water off of them both. He slid his arms around her waist.

"Hey, you're my waterbending Master," Aang defended, completely dismissing her sarcasm and dragging his fingertips down her spine to the small of her back. "Shouldn't you should be setting an example?" he murmured as he leaned in to kiss her.

Unable to hold back a sputter of incredulous laughter, she spun around in his arms before he could manage it. Zuko's presence surprised her.

"Zuko! Hi." She tucked a few stray hairs back, behind her ear. "I didn't know you were standing there." Aang bent to kiss her shoulder and she gave an embarrassed, apologetic smile.

Zuko rubbed his chin, "I don't know if you two being married makes the impropriety of your student-teacher relationship better or worse," he mused.

They were used to this sort of gentle ribbing - they'd been hearing it for years - and Aang smiled up at him, arms still wrapped around Katara's middle. She traced the lines of his tattoos with her fingertips without looking, something she'd obviously done countless times.

"Should I look in on your next session with Toph?" Zuko asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"Did you notice he expressed no concern about your next session with him?" Katara pointed out, and Aang chuckled.

"You two are completely shameless," Zuko admonished, scowling in an effort to offset the heat in his face. He crouched at the edge of the pool, "Katara, the conference organizers are looking for you. They want to know if you'd mind familiarizing them with the healing practice dummies. They've been sitting in crates since we got them because they're afraid to touch them."

"I'd be delighted to," she agreed. He extended a hand, standing to help her out of the water. She stooped to pick up her tunic from where she'd left it folded on the floor. Aang leaned against the tiles. He watched Katara slip her clothing on and make her way toward the door, then returned his attention to Zuko.

"Firebending practice?" he offered.

He arched an eyebrow, hands on his hips, squinting down. "I don't think so," he replied.

"Oh, come on, why not?" Aang protested with a grin. Zuko ignored him, following Katara out of the gym.

XxXxX

People were staring.

The citizens of the Fire Nation could not remember what it was to have a Firelord who wanted to walk the streets beside them. For so long, their leader had been a figure seen from a distance, or concealed in a palanquin, and always flanked by guards. Zuko was making a continued effort to change this - much to the consternation of his advisers and security team. They protested when he left the palace unguarded, which was often, and each objection seemed more weak and absurd than the last. When he went with Sokka to visit the blacksmith they favored, or with Toph to the noodle vendor who made the scorchingly hot sauce they both liked. Or today, when he elected to take a morning trip to the market with Katara and Aang.

He felt a surge of irritation when his senior adviser threw one last, dubious glance toward his friends before they left. It was easy to forget how unassuming they appeared, especially to people who never had occasion to see Katara fight, and who had never seen Aang in the Avatar State. The odds that someone would make an attempt on his life in the heart of the capitol seemed remote. Logically, he knew he couldn't take his safety for granted. The political climate was still turbulent and there were plenty of people who weren't exactly fond of him - or of Aang, for that matter. That was sometimes hard to keep in perspective, especially on days like this.

The market was bustling, even though it was early in the day. Elderly women inspected fruit with squinting eyes. Parents held the hands of their small children. The stalls serving breakfast were busy and crowded with people hunched over bowls of juk and plates of dumplings and steaming cups of tea.

The three of them walked down the street together. They were not going anywhere in particular, though Katara was on the lookout for a yellow scarf to match Aang's formal robes. They stopped at a stall where a vendor was selling elaborate kites. People were accustomed enough to Zuko's presence that most didn't offer a full bow unless he was addressing them directly, or in close proximity. He did his best to acknowledge everyone who demonstrated their respect. Even after all this time it still felt like a small miracle that they were offering it at all.

Realization that he had not yet paid his monthly visit to Ozai twisted heavy in his gut. His throat stung with anxiety and he tried to ignore it. He wondered if Aang would go with him, if he asked. He had not seen Ozai since the tribunal.

It was more than four years ago now, though it felt more recent. The trial went on for nearly two weeks. It might not have been such a difficult time if the whole thing hadn't been such an unavoidable circus. Coordinating it was a nightmare, from both a logistical and a security standpoint. Compounding this was the fact that - in the interest of transparency - the proceedings were open to the public. It culminated in Aang's testimony and that day in particular was hard for all of them. Zuko spent the entire day nursing a sharp headache and didn't eat. Aang, by contrast, was remarkably calm, though he looked tired. His voice had recently broken and he spoke carefully, trying his best to keep it from cracking.

He talked about his battle with Ozai in a matter of fact way, recounting the events without hesitation, though there was a faraway look in his eyes at times. Zuko was disgusted by the details, which up until that point he had never heard. He was not surprised about the appalling things his father said that day, but when Aang repeated the words, it sickened Zuko to hear such hateful things coming out of his mouth. He said them in a way that indicated familiarity, that exposed the grooves they had worn into his memory. No one would have blamed him for being angry. Everyone in the courtroom was looking for anger. Instead, he sat on the stand, upright and composed and sad. More than anything, he thought Aang looked sad. Katara wept silently, the sort of hot, angry tears Zuko knew well, Sokka's arm around her.

Words failed Aang when it came time to explain how he'd taken the Phoenix King's bending, though everyone listened with rapt attention. Ozai was obviously angry about having his shame aired so publicly, but he showed no remorse while being faced with the boy whose death he would have considered a victory.

Outside the stall of kites, a small crowd had gathered. Katara was crouched at eye level with a little girl who was shyly avoiding her eyes as she spoke. Aang was talking to a young woman who was far too dressed up for a morning trip to the market. Word traveled fast in the capitol.

He wondered when they had become the poised, gracious adults standing before him today. When had Aang gone from the diminutive boy in the courtroom to the young man who was making a girl blush just by smiling at her? Katara had once responded to him with glares and sharp anger. Now when the little girl she was talking to looked over her shoulder at him with wide eyes, Katara glanced in his direction and smiled.

He had paused in the street a few feet away when they stopped, and he moved closer to them. The people respectfully dispersed, giving their lord a wide berth. Aang frowned but it was fleeting, and he gave a confused smile at the look on Zuko's face.

"What's up?" he asked. The little girl had Katara captured in an embrace, her arms around her neck. Her older sister was already walking away and called to her. She released Katara and ran off without a backwards glance.

"Nothing," Zuko said with a shake of his head, then changed his mind and added, "I'm glad you two are here."

Aang brightened, "Thanks, Sifu Hotman. I'm glad we're here, too." Katara stood, brushing at her robes. "You made a friend," he observed.

"She's actually a big fan of Lord Zuko," she corrected, and Aang's smile widened. Gently, Katara explained, "She was just telling me she learned in school last week about his Agni Kai with his sister."

Zuko's smile faltered and he nodded, "We've been updating the public school curriculum over the last couple of years." He cleared his throat and his gaze dropped away from theirs, "Since my family is so closely intertwined in the narrative of the war, our succession is included."

"She said something very interesting," Katara said, and he met her eyes again. She was smiling, though it was bittersweet. "Apparently her teacher told her a very brave waterbender saved his life. When she heard I was at the market this morning she wanted to come and tell me thank you."

Aang took Katara's hand and bumped her arm with his. He reached out and squeezed Zuko's shoulder and they stood in silence. So many of these moments had passed between the three of them in the last few years. They didn't even need to address it out loud any more to know they were all feeling the same thing.

It was so easy to doubt whether they were on the right path, there were so few signposts. It was hard to tell whether their efforts were making a difference. For a time, immediately after the end of the war, it seemed things were actually getting worse. The whole group shared a collective, breath-holding tension, loaded with doubt. They had to let it out slowly, over time, waiting for indications that things were getting better. And they'd come, here and there at first. Now it seemed to happen every time they went anywhere together. There was always some moment. Sometimes it was a thing that was outwardly big, like selecting the future site for the unified city. Most of the time it was something small, like this: a little girl in the Fire Nation thanking a waterbender for her bravery during the war. Zuko nodded slowly.

"That was really sweet of her," he said.

XxXxX

It was Katara who answered when he knocked at their door that evening. His attendants told him they'd taken dinner in their room. Most of his day was occupied with conference preparations and he wasn't able to join them, though they'd extended an invitation.

It was late enough that he knew he could expect to spend the rest of the evening undisturbed, barring some crisis. It also meant this was the best time to catch up when they visited, and it was not uncommon for them to stay up late on these occasions, probably later than they should.

He was a little thrown by her attire. She wore a robe made of maroon silk, probably kept amongst the other articles of clothing they stored in their closet for visits to the Palace. It fell mid thigh and seemed like the sort of thing she would reserve for the privacy of their room. She smiled as she opened the door fully, stepping aside to admit him.

"I'm sorry I couldn't join you two for dinner," he said as she closed the door behind him. She waved off this apology.

"It's fine. We know you're busy."

He followed her further inside, into the sitting room, where Aang was hunched at the table over what appeared to be a letter. Zuko recognized his delicate calligraphy and was not surprised when he didn't even look up, too engrossed in his work.

"Sorry, you two," he muttered, "I'll be done with this in a minute."

Aang took his correspondence seriously - beside the scroll he was working on, there was a sheet of scrap paper crowded with sentences. The disconnected paragraphs were crisscrossed with notes and revisions. Zuko recalled a recent meeting with one of his magistrates. They were discussing the upcoming trial of a band of highwaymen from the old colonies who had been arrested on the very edge of Fire Nation territory. There was a great deal of bluster from the Kuei about their extradition. Aang wrote to Zuko about it and he passed the letter along to the magistrate.

"Have you read the letter from Avatar Aang?" he asked. The man rolled his eyes.

"Not yet," he grumbled, "I'm not in the mood for poetry."

Despite his brusqueness, Zuko had to admit there was some truth to what he was saying. Aang's writing had a lyrical quality he had come to appreciate. There was something very honest about it, and it seemed to make no difference if he was writing about personal affairs or matters of state, the form remained the same.

Aang was sitting on the floor, frowning at the half finished sentence in front of him. His chest was bare, robes neatly folded on the end of the couch. Zuko wondered if he was disturbing them, since it didn't seem they'd been expecting him to visit. Almost the same moment this thought crossed his mind, it was contradicted by the three cups he spotted on the table next to the teapot. Only one of them was full. There was a glass of wine standing beside the overturned, unused teacups in bold defiance. He knew who each belonged to without asking.

Zuko had seen both of them more exposed before - just that morning, in fact - when they were sparring. Something about this felt more intimate and he wasn't sure what to make of it. Katara wasn't wearing her betrothal necklace and he wondered if she had taken a bath just before his arrival. He seated himself on the floor opposite Aang, the table between them. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, he stretched his neck side to side with his eyes closed.

"Is your neck bothering you?" Katara asked. He gave a grunt of affirmation and she frowned, "I could work on it for you if you want."

He straightened, "Oh, no that's - "

"Come on," she cajoled, "We might as well take care of it now. You'll just be back here tomorrow with a tension headache if we don't, and you'll be grouchy on top of it."

Aang glanced up at her with a smile before returning his attention to his letter.

"She makes a very compelling argument," he pointed out. Zuko gave a grudging smile.

"All right," he agreed.

Katara bent to pick up one of the large pillows beside Aang. She dropped it onto the floor next to the table and gestured to it.

"Sit there and I'll go grab my bowl."

Zuko moved to comply as she went to their bedroom. He sat with his legs folded, back to the fat pillow he knew she'd thrown down for herself. They had shared enough of these sessions that he began pulling his hair up without being asked.

Katara returned, a canvas satchel slung over her shoulder and carrying a large brass bowl. She liked these bowls so much for healing work he'd given her one as a housewarming gift when they moved into their apartment in Ba Sing Se. Aang received a set of much smaller ones - seven of them, to use as offering bowls - for his shrine.

She set the bowl down on the floor and knelt on the pillow behind him, taking her bag from her shoulder. With a furrowed brow, she scrutinized his posture, looking for whatever it was healers looked for in these situations.

"Have you been doing hand to hand training this week?" she asked, cocking her head slightly.

"Day before yesterday," he confirmed, glancing over his shoulder.

"Look at me over your other shoulder," she instructed. He did and she nodded, "Okay."

He faced forward again. Katara drew water from the bowl, holding it over his left shoulder. He closed his eyes as her hands hovered slowly up, onto the side of his neck. She moved one of them around to the other side, the cool water now suspended over his pulse, as well. The movements of her fingers were slight as she felt around, examining the area with a gentle touch.

"What's a better way to say 'disappointed'?" Aang asked, breaking the silence. He made a note on his scrap paper.

"What's wrong with 'disappointed'?" Zuko returned, opening his eyes to look over at him.

"It's a little too harsh." Aang ran the tip of the brush handle back and forth along his lower lip.

"Ah ha." There was subdued triumph in Katara's voice, "I think I found the worst of the trouble spots. It's mostly your shoulder." She pulled away and returned the water to the bowl, then began picking through her bag.

"I think I left the rub I want in the bathroom." She stood and touched his shoulder. Zuko twisted around to look at her and she indicated the pillow she'd just been sitting on.

"Take your shirt off and lay on your stomach. I'll be right back." She left the room. He turned back to Aang.

"Who are you writing to?" he asked as he began unbuttoning his shirt.

Aang sighed, set his brush down and rubbed his eyes. He covered his face with his hands.

"Kuei," he responded, his voice muffled behind his palms. Zuko rolled his eyes.

"Usually when I'm writing to Kuei I'm looking for less harsh ways to say 'insufferable' and 'annoyed' but you're much more charitable than me."

With a low groan, Aang dragged his hands down his face and scowled at his letter again, a faint crease between his brows.

"Troubled?" Zuko suggested, folding his shirt and laying it aside. Aang tilted his head, eyes darting toward him, then away. He cleared his throat and nodded, picked up his brush again.

"Thanks," he said as Zuko stretched out on his stomach, arms folded beneath his head.

Katara returned with the tin she'd been looking for and knelt beside him, rubbing her hands together to warm them. She scooped up some of the ointment and went to work on his shoulder. Her fingertips slid across his skin before she found the knot she'd identified and attacked it with steady, gentle pressure. The pain was deeper than he expected and his breath caught before he let it out in a sigh.

"Sorry," she murmured. Her tone grew firmer, along with the pressure from her fingers, "If you started working with that acupuncturist I recommended you wouldn't have this problem."

Without opening his eyes be asked, "Is scolding your patients a skill you'll be working on this week during the conference?"

He could tell she was smiling when she answered.

"We should call it Cultural Unity Through Scolding." Her cheeriness faltered but still attempting lightheartedness, she said, "It's a shame more of the healers from the North aren't coming. They're very gifted at passive aggressiveness."

Zuko opened his eyes, peering up at her from his periphery.

"I'm sorry more of them couldn't come," he said.

Couldn't wasn't strictly accurate, and they all knew it. The truth of the matter was that they wouldn't. Invitations to the conference were extended all over the world: throughout the Fire Nation to herbalists, to the Earth Kingdom apothecaries, to the healers in the Water Tribe. The response from the Water Tribe had been disappointingly lukewarm, despite Katara's efforts to convince them to attend. She met his eyes and gave a weak smile.

"The gesture is still important. You're trying, Zuko." She laid a hand on his shoulder blade. "It's just going to take time," she murmured before pulling up her water again. He closed his eyes once more.

Katara worked in silence, drawing the energy knotted in his neck and shoulders down, smoothing its' flow. The only sound was the slosh of water and the occasional scratch of a pencil as Aang made notes. After about fifteen minutes she had used up most of her water and knelt beside him without doing anything. Her eyes traveled along his back, looking with a critical gaze for anything she might have missed. He was much too relaxed and comfortable and gave a regretful groan when he realized how drowsy he was.

"I should probably get up and go to bed," he muttered into his arms, "Before I fall asleep on your floor."

"I sort of miss our camping days," Aang admitted. He rinsed out his brush and bent it dry, his letter finally finished. "It was easier to stay up all night talking when we were all around a fire together. Next time we all travel for something we should camp."

Zuko gave a grunt of assent.

"Sure, why not," Katara teased, "I haven't watched Toph pick her toes by firelight for a while."

Aang rolled his eyes as he turned to face them, leaning back on his hand. "You joke but I think it's a great idea. We don't have to wait for everyone else, either. Sokka and Suki are busy working with your dad and the United Forces and Toph is training her metalbenders. Who knows when they'll have the free time."

"Don't you have the Air Acolytes to think about?" Zuko drawled, his face still half buried in the pillow.

"The Air Acolytes do a lot of reading," Aang said lightly. "A lot of reading and a lot of solitary introspection." They all knew the dismissiveness in his tone wasn't genuine, but there was truth in his statement. "The three of us could go somewhere," he suggested. "Zuko, you should come with us next time we visit the swamp benders. Those trips are always fun."

"I'll pass, thanks," he mumbled. He took a deep breath and rolled onto his back, propping himself up on his elbows as he prepared to sit up. Katara cocked her head, looking down at him.

"Your scar looks really good, Zuko," she said. Realizing, she met his eyes, blushing. "Your chest, I mean," she explained. And then to further drive the point home, "Your lightning scar."

Zuko pulled his chin toward his chest to look down at it. He shrugged.

"I guess it's hard for me to tell since I see it every day," he said, "My herbalist starting making me something to put on it every night years ago. I guess it's making a difference."

"Can you spare some? I'd like to try it on Aang's back."

"Sure," he yawned, "Do you want me to ask for the recipe for you?"

Katara shook her head, "I'll ask her during the conference. She has to do what you say but she can say no to me if she wants."

"That's very diplomatic," Zuko replied. He sat up fully, retrieving his shirt from the floor and shifting to face them.

"I'm kind of resenting that planning for the conference is over," he confessed. "I don't have it as an excuse to avoid talking to my advisers."

"What do they want to talk to you about?" Katara asked.

He shifted his jaw side to side. He already regretted bringing it up.

"They've been hounding me to get married," he muttered.

"Have they?" she replied, leaning forward.

Zuko threw his hand up, his wide eyes mirroring hers. The surprise in her tone was validating and his voice rose, bolstered by irritation.

"You'd think I have bigger things to worry about. They come to see me and I think they're going to bring me a treaty to sign or tell me about the latest drama with the Earth King. Instead they offer to schedule meetings with matchmakers or bring up some high ranking diplomat they know whose daughter is coming of age."

"Have you thought about what you're going to do?" Katara swept her hair behind her shoulders and sat back, "I mean, I can't picture you in an arranged marriage but I'm sure it's kind of hard to date when you're the Fire Lord."

Zuko deflated a bit with a sigh.

"You're telling me," he muttered. He shook his shirt out, frowning at a wrinkle in the back before pulling it on. "I suppose I should just get used to it. If I were married they'd be pestering me about having kids, instead. It never really ends."

"No wonder you're so stressed out," Aang said. Zuko frowned, waiting for him to go on. Aang gave half a shrug and gestured to him, "It's bad enough being isolated without your advisers turning it into a national crisis. You shouldn't feel like you're failing your people on top of being lonely."

This was a keen insight, one he knew could only have been borne out of familiarity. Zuko looked down and away, from both of them. Of course they noticed, they knew him better than anyone.

"Have you decided how long you'll be staying?" he asked.

Katara went along with this change of subject. "I think we'll probably leave the day after the conference ends," she replied. "I want to go North as soon as possible while it's still fresh. I can pass along my notes and some supplies to the healers there."

Zuko was about to comment on this, his focus returning to the moment, and he was embarrassed to realize his gaze had dropped to Katara's bare knees. He looked across at her again and returned her smile, though he was worried his appeared strained. Nervous without understanding why and feeling like he had been caught at something, he turned his attention to the buttons on his shirt.

"I probably can't have breakfast with you two tomorrow," he apologized, "I have some last minute stuff to attend to."

"Firebending practice before lunch?" Aang offered. Zuko shook his head, avoiding his eyes.

"I can't. I have to meet with my head of security. He's nervous about all of the people we're going to have in the guest wing this week." The lie felt transparent and poorly thought out to him. All of the weakest lies involved other people. He wasn't sure why he was even telling it. He managed a smile as he finished with his shirt.

"At the very least I'll see you both tomorrow at dinner," he reminded them, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the ballroom, where the welcoming reception was being hosted. Katara nodded.

"Go get some sleep," she urged.

They all rose to their feet. Zuko bid them goodnight and walked toward the door. He didn't look back before he closed it behind him.