It burned me in the night,
It blistered in my dream

-Emily Dickinson


The disgust she felt for the whisperings amongst the palace servants, whisperings that had given her the curiosity and courage to seek out the Fire Lord, were nothing compared to the horror that enveloped her mind when Iroh gave her the full story. It was a shocking contrast to her own father who was always warm and loving, who cared more about his children than his own life. Iroh had given her the barest details but they were enough to know why Zuko turned away, why he scowled constantly, why he couldn't forget and why he wouldn't forgive.

The nights after were filled with visions of how she supposed it had happened, visions that soon caused her to dread her pillow and the setting sun. She resorted to taking solace in the moon, sneaking away from the closed doors and the sleepy sounds behind them. She used the cool waters to wash away the sorrow that kept her up, but she still couldn't sleep.

And while she wondered how he must have felt, the object of her unlimited pity appeared.