A month has passed since he returned when he joins Mai on the balcony. She's watching the sun set, humming half a lullabye to Kya.
She stops when Zuko comes.
There is a long silence. Too long. Kya starts to mewl, quietly.
And Mai.
Speaks.
Tells him everything she should have said, very long ago, eyes fixed on the setting sun.
'I would not open up to you, Zuko, I flinched away, because when I was imprisoned my family disowned me. Once you were back in power they were very happy, uncle included, to make it possible for me to get to you as soon as possible. But in the prison.
They were no longer my family.
There was a cell filled with light. And there was a blindfold. And there were soldiers who beat me and who broke me and who raped me, Zuko, because Azula told them to. Told them to ruin and to wreck me, the girl who chose love over fear.
And I would not tell you. Because I did not want to hurt you too.
But I did hurt you. So you chose her.
And I know why. All that time in the dark with her – she was the best, the bravest, the most kind hearted person I have ever met. And she died with your name on her lips – you have to know that. She died after having fought and won. And if she had known you were alive, she would have won again, against everything they did to her. To find a way back to you.
So. Now you know. Why I couldn't have your child. Why I turned away.
Why I wouldn't drink that wretched jasmine tea.'
'I'm sorry.' He's crying – and so is she. Both of them, weeping as the sun paints them gold. 'I'm so, so sorry.'
She turns to walk away.
'Can – can I hold her?'
Mai turns again. She meets her husband's eyes. Silently she passes him the child.
Kya silences when he father takes her, holds her awkwardly, carefully, his tears wetting her face. She reaches up her hand and brushes at his cheek.
Then Mai is steadying his shaking arms, and helping him hold his daughter.
They look into her eyes – a blue beyond thought.
The sun sets, and turns them all to gold.