Back at the house, Zuko retreated to the sitting room with another scroll. He had barely read the first sentence when Azah poked her head out of the kitchen.

"My lord," and the formality sounded out of place after all her casual conversation that day, "would you mind lighting the fire? There doesn't seem to be a set of flint and steel anywhere."

Grumbling internally, Zuko went over and sent a controlled blast of fire into the dip in the counter over which a pot hung.

Azah bobbed her head. "Thank you. I've got it from here."

He returned to his scroll. This time, he made it nearly to the end before Azah brought out the teapot and two cups, followed by two bowls of rice and a small plate of dumplings.

"I tried cutting up the mangoes and putting the chunks over the rice," she explained as he eyed the gooey yellow substance atop his rice. "I guess it's obvious that they were a little overripe." She shrugged. "So now it's a... sauce."

Aware of her gaze on him, Zuko picked up the chopsticks and, bracing himself, scooped a bit of the mango-covered rice into his mouth.

The flavor was a sickly kind of sweet, but it was much better than he'd expected. "'S good," he mumbled around it, and continued eating, hoping that his full mouth would deter further conversation.

No such luck.

"So," Azah began after a sip of tea, "I was thinking earlier—"

Zuko suppressed a sarcastic comment.

"—and, considering that we've known one another for barely a week, I'd like to break the ice..." She looked at him expectantly.

He swallowed before asking, with no small amount of trepidation, "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, what my theatre troupe usually did to build camaraderie between cast and crew members at the beginning of work on a production was some form of game."

Oh joy, a game.

She must have seen the look on his face, because she faltered for a moment. "I-it wasn't something outrageous, like... improvisation or anything physical. That's more of something the actors would do in their own group. What we would do all together was more along the lines of a getting-to-know-you exercise."

"Like...?"

She took a quick bite of a dumpling, chewed, and swallowed before replying. "Okay, here's one: each of us says three things—two true and one false—about ourself, and the other guesses which of the three statements is false. Or—"

"That sounds great," Zuko interrupted. The sooner he agreed to something, the sooner it would be over. "Who goes first?"

Her face lit up. "If you want to, you can start. Or I could start, and you can have a moment to come up with your statements."

He motioned with his chopsticks. "You go ahead."

Azah settled back on her ankles with a thoughtful expression. After a moment, she spoke. "I've never seen an Agni Kai, my favorite color is yellow, and I don't like the sound of drums."

Zuko paused. He supposed all of those could be true. Ember Island was a very laid-back place; even though firebending duels were common just about everywhere in the Fire Nation, it seemed plausible that Azah had never personally witnessed one. Favorite color was almost impossible to ascertain, really, and drums were a key part of most Fire Nation music: Ember Islanders, especially, implemented them in everything. But she'd be trying to trick him, wouldn't she?

So... Ugh. This is too hard. Better just pick one. "Your favorite color isn't yellow?"

"Wrong!" Azah declared cheerfully. "It is. The first one was false; I've seen three Agni Kais in my lifetime..." She trailed off at that, glancing at her lap, before perking up again. "All right, now it's your turn!" She returned to eating as he thought.

Okay. Time to trip her up.

"Uh... I've been in a Fire Nation prison... I can't generate lightning... And I hate seafood."

Azah's brows knit. She set down her chopsticks. A long moment of silence passed. Finally, she spoke. "I'm going to say that the second one was a lie."

Zuko shook his head. "No. I really can't. My uncle taught me to redirect lightning, but I can't generate it myself. The third was the lie. Seafood is okay. After all the time I spent in exile, I've got pretty low standards for meals."

She grinned at him. "That's a relief to hear after inflicting my cooking on you. So, prison, huh?"

"Yeah. The Boiling Rock. After I joined forces with the Avatar—"

"You don't have to refer to Aang formally around me," she interrupted. "He told me to call him by his name back when you introduced us."

"—with Aang and the others," Zuko backtracked before continuing, "I went on a mission with Sokka to find his and Katara's father in the most likely place for him to be held. We disguised ourselves as guards at first, but I was caught and imprisoned. In the end, Sokka and his father worked out a plan that got not only the three of us, but also Suki and another stranger, out." He was careful to leave Mai's involvement out of his tale, but the memory hit him like a charging komodo rhino.

"Wow." She refilled her teacup and his. "Someday, you'll have to give me the full version—that sounds like a thrilling story!" He shrugged his noncommittal, taking a sip of tea. Azah smirked at him. "Or I could ask Sokka, I suppose. I'm sure he'd have plenty of embellishment to add onto it."

Zuko couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes.

"All right," she huffed good-naturedly, "my turn again. Let's see… I have two cousins, I'm afraid of the dark, and I have never acted in a play."

He hesitated. Considering that one of the few things he knew about his wife was her passion for the theatre, the last statement seemed unlikely, but then, he had only seen her involved in a production once, and she was then a member of the crew. If any of the three statements had been disproved to him before now, it was most likely the second. Azah had never displayed any such fear, and something told him that if ever she felt truly frightened, she would likely react in a much more obvious way.

"You're not afraid of the dark."

"You're right;" she beamed, "I'm not. See, we know one another better already!"

He gave another shrug and finished off the last bit of rice from his bowl before standing up and gathering all dishes but the teapot and cups.

"Oh, you don't need to—" Azah stood, speaking hurriedly. "I mean, I should—I made dinner, so—"

Zuko ignored her and carried the dishes into the kitchen, where he set them into an empty washbin for later. She followed him back out to the table, repeating her thanks. They sat down once more.

"Back to you," she said with a nod, picking up her tea.

How long was she going to drag this out? "All right… My favorite animal is a komodo rhino, I was not responsible for the death of Admiral Zhao at the North Pole, and I got my two biggest scars from family members."

At the last one, Azah flinched a little. She paused before saying, with no small amount of uncertainty, "The first one...?"

He nodded. "I think you can guess the truth."

A small smile touched her lips. "I like turtle ducks, too. My favorite animal is probably an iguana seal."

Zuko finished his tea and held out his hand for her cup. She allowed him to take it and picked up the teapot herself. They took the dishes to the washbin. Azah moved toward the bucket used for fetching water, but he stopped her.

"I'll handle the dishes. You've done enough."

Her face flushed a little. "But—" She yawned, cutting herself off. "Well, okay. I think I'm going to bed, in that case. Good night, my lord."

She was already fast asleep, curled into a tight little ball around her pillow, when Zuko made it to the bedroom. Her hair was splayed over her face like a curtain, and only the occasional flutter of a strand or two gave any indication of her breathing. He changed into a softer tunic and pants before getting into bed on the other side. After a moment of lying on his back and staring at the ceiling slats, willing his mind to be silent, he rolled over to face Azah, keeping a foot of the mattress between them.

*shuffles onstage* Hi, guys. Um. It's been a while. Over two years, in fact. But here we are. I actually had two and 3/4ths chapters written even then that I was planning to edit and just... lost motivation over. Which is embarrassing, given my statement in the AN for Chapter One, huh?

A lot has changed in two years. I'm about to graduate high school, I've committed to a college and know what I'll be studying, and I've fallen headfirst down the petrorabbit hole that is the Transformers fandom. And I quit theatre last spring after a great run of productions—God was really calling me to look at my social life and who I was trying to impress, and it wasn't the right answer.

SO ANYWAY, this story has continued to get follows/favorites/reviews over the past two years, and each one has motivated me to at least glance over the drafted chapters, but y'all can thank onceuponaminute for being the review that broke the Liz's block, so to speak. I think it was all down to timing. Thanks, onceuponaminute. I owe ya one.

Yeah. So I decided to stop angsting over whether scenes were too cheesy or whatever and just post this sucker. Hopefully the trend will continue, and you guys can expect the next in a month or so. (I'm a busy lady now!)

Thank you so much for your support and sticking around as long as you have. God bless!

—Liz 3