Mai sat quietly in her drawing-room, her legs tucked up underneath her, her head resting against the back of her chair. She'd retired to this room after breakfast, leaving instructions that she was not to be disturbed – that had been nearly three hours ago. Her back was to the window, but it didn't matter; Mai wasn't looking at anything in particular. She was thinking deeply.

Zuko...it's always Zuko. She closed her eyes. My one weakness, my Achilles heel. All he had to do was ask, and I gave in. I think I'd even have married him! What was it that Azula said once – 'you'd pick Zuko over me again if he snapped his fingers for you.' Mai drew a corner of her shawl between her fingers and toyed with it absently. I think maybe she was right.

She opened her eyes and gazed blankly at a decorative vase that stood in the corner. Just what did I agree to last night, anyway? She replayed her conversation with Zuko in her mind. I told him I was willing to 'try'. What does that mean, exactly? What is he to me, now? Is he my lord, my betrothed, my enemy, my boyfriend – what? She sighed in frustration. If he's trying to put me off-balance, he's certainly succeeded, she thought ruefully. The thing is, I'm pretty sure he isn't doing it on purpose. I think he really is still the awkward, sincere little boy I fell in love with all those years ago. She looked down at her own hands. Despite the careful regime of cold creams and manicures she'd begun, they still looked very different than they once had. She could remember when they had been flawlessly white and smooth. Now they were rough and discolored in places. But who am I? Does the Mai he once loved still exist, I wonder?

There came a soft knocking at the door. Annoyed, Mai looked up and saw the timid servant girl from the day before. "Forgive the interruption, my lady," the girl said softly, fidgeting awkwardly with her fingers. "F-Fire Lord Zuko has come."

Mai's eyes flew open. "Zuko's here?" she said sharply. The servant stared at her, evidently floored by her casual use of the fire lord's first name. Mai didn't care. Where...where exactly does one receive the fire lord? She looked around. This drawing room was probably ideal. "All right," she said, collecting herself again. "Show him in." The servant bowed and vanished accordingly. Slowly, Mai rose to her feet and laid her shawl aside. She felt as giddy and nervous as a lovestruck teenager. Stop it, she told herself sharply, annoyed. At least try to keep your wits about you! Then the door opened, and her thoughts left her.

Zuko stepped inside, shutting the door behind him, and stood quietly looking at her. He was dressed in a simple crimson robe with gold trim, very like the garments he had worn as the Crown Prince. His hair was in a royal topknot, but he wasn't wearing the five-pointed flame pin that displayed his status as the fire lord. He looked like himself – like the Zuko she remembered. Her eyes flicked briefly to the couch, and the memory of the nights they had spent on it together flitted past her mind's eye. She felt a faint heat rise in her face as she looked back at him. "My lord," she said calmly. "To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "I had a few hours free. Figured I'd come and chat." There was a pause; she regarded him warily, even as the blush faded from her cheeks. "Do you mind if I sit down, Mai?" he asked finally, a small smile playing about the corners of his lips.

"No. No, of course not." She quickly tucked her hands into her sleeves, struggling to mask her uncertainty. His amber eyes swept the room thoughtfully. Then, with great deliberation, he sat down on the crimson-cushioned couch. She felt her cheeks grown warm again as his gaze met hers. "Did...would you like some refreshments, my lord?"

He shook his head. "No. I just want to talk." He smiled then, a real smile, and patted the cushion beside him. "Come, sit down." Mai hesitated, biting the inside of her lip. Then she moved smoothly to the couch and sat down, taking care to stay out of his immediate reach. "You look well," he said, his eyes sweeping over her. "You must be feeling better."

"I'm stronger," she allowed cautiously. "I can manage a little training now. Marathons might still be a bit out of my reach, though."

"Well, tetanus is a pretty serious thing." His brows knitted. "I asked the palace doctors about it, and they said it can easily be fatal." He paused. "Can I ask what happened?"

Her face was expressionless. "We were attacked," she said simply. "I was hit with two shuriken." Her hand rested briefly on her abdomen. "It seems they were poisoned. Fortunately, we were near enough to a village that Azula and Ty Lee were able to get me to a healer."

"I'm glad," Zuko said quietly. "I wouldn't have wanted to lose you that way."

Mai's eyes narrowed, and she tilted her head back a little. "Forgive me for being cynical, but I don't think I believe that. You were the one who exiled us, Zuko. You must have known what you were condemning us to. If you'd wanted me to somehow be safe, I would think you would have sentenced me to prison."

The fire lord shifted uneasily, turning away from her gaze. "I did think about it," he admitted. "But I couldn't do that to you, Mai. This way at least you had Azula and Ty Lee with you – I figured the three of you would be more than a match for anyone who might try to harm you." He paused. "And I thought that maybe, after the heat had died down, we could...try again."

She narrowed her eyes still more. "So let me get this straight," she said. "You've actually been waiting for me all these years? You haven't been looking for a wife because you were still hoping that I might be your queen?"

Zuko rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well...yes. Something like that," he said.

Mai's lips tightened. She got up suddenly and turned to face him, dropping her arms to her sides. "That would be political suicide," she said coldly. "Zuko, you know that. What fire lord has ever taken a convicted traitor as his consort? Your enemies would have a field day. You'd undermine your own hold on the throne!"

He scowled. "You think I don't know that? I was born a prince. There wasn't a day that went by without my being reminded of how what I did affected my power base." He smirked a little. "Besides, the same people who'd be on you about being a traitor are the ones already sneering at me for being one, so it wouldn't undermine me as much as you might think." He paused. "There are people who like you, Mai. They aren't all against you. Your family's well-respected, and your record of service under my father and my sister was good. You can even truthfully claim to have saved my life. That's not such a terrible resume, is it?"

She sighed, rubbing her forehead, and turned away. Her bluster faded, leaving only her confusion. "Well...no, I guess not. But..."

Zuko's arms suddenly encircled her from behind, wringing a gasp from her lips. Mai went rigid as she felt his chest press up against her back. His hands slowly slid from her elbows to her wrists; she felt her eyes widen as he drew her left hand upward. His chin rested on her shoulder as his lips brushed gently over the palm of her hand, pressing a soft kiss to the base of each finger. Mai's head was spinning. I remember this. He used to do this, before...back when we were far more innocent. Zuko's right arm pulled her close as his left drew her hand downward so that he could kiss her fingertips. She tried to squirm away. Instead, she found herself leaning back into his body, her head falling back to rest against his shoulder – her eyes closed. She felt his lips trailing gently down her palm to her wrist, and uttered a soft groan.

"Mai," he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. "I love you. I've forgiven you, and I've missed you." He pressed a kiss against the soft inside of her wrist; she felt his tongue flick lightly at the skin. Her breath hitched sharply. "I want you to be my queen," he said gently. "Will you give me a chance? Let me court you again." His mouth moved to the side of her neck. Mai listened as if hypnotized, her lips parted. "Let me court you," he whispered again. "Let me make up for the way I treated you. I won't take you for granted – I'll make you feel like the queen that you are. I promise." The soft kisses trailed up, then down her jawline. "Will you let me?"

The young noblewoman twisted around in his grip to face him. There was a lump rising in her throat, and she could feel herself trembling dangerously. "Zuko -!" Her voice failed her. Slumping against him, she let her face fall against his neck; her tears soaked into his collar. She wanted to stay like this forever – here in Zuko's arms, letting the tears wash away all of the wasted years.