ADVICE NOT TAKEN
by Madame Bomb
Zuki Week – Day 7 (April 4th)
Prompt: THE JASMINE DRAGON
Rating: M+
Summary: Months after a tragic loss, Zuko and Suki return to the Jasmine Dragon, where the ghosts of old memories bring them together at last.
Notes: Sad but sexy...which is a thing. It is!
The sound of the bell over the door was forlorn and echoing in the darkened tea shop. The air inside was still, but one soft inhale of breath brought back the ghosts of a dozen teas. Their gentle scents, earthy and fragrant, green and spiced, floated on the edges of the senses, boiled into the wood and walls, into the beams and floors, and carefully arranged shelves.
Someone had put all of the chairs onto the tables, upside down. There was dust on everything. It had been months since anyone had been in the Jasmine Dragon.
Not since they had carried General Iroh, Prince of the Fire Nation, out of the shop forever in an elegant but simple wooden coffin. He had been draped in the flag of the Fire Nation, and carried with honor by the Earth King's men to a ship, which took him across the seas to his mourning homeland. Customers and the people of Ba Sing Se, who had come to know their one-time would-be conqueror as a gentle and funny shopkeeper, had lined the streets. They had tossed flowers behind the wagon, onto the draped coffin, a sign of respect for the man they had embraced as one of them.
The streets had smelled like flowers for days.
The funeral had been a stately affair. Everyone had come. The people who had known him best had mourned. They'd wept and celebrated, and felt the hole in their lives where once there had been life and laughter, wisdom, and tea. Always tea.
One of Iroh's employees had closed up the shop and sent the key to his nephew. No one had been in the place since that day. It had been months since the funeral.
Suki stood back against the door, staring at the dust motes dancing in the last light of sunset coming from the cracks in the shuttered windows. Zuko stepped into the center of the room, his shoulders hunched. He'd been very quiet on the journey to Ba Sing Se.
He'd been very quiet since the funeral, in fact, staring at nothing sometimes, his eyes filled with sadness. Sometimes he smiled, when he thought no one was watching him.
Suki was usually watching him. She'd seen those smiles and she knew that he was remembering something his uncle had done, some bit of wisdom or a joke. Something that made the sadness clinging to him lessen, just for a moment.
Then it all tumbled back over him, and in his grief, he let it. She let him mourn; afraid to intrude, but wanting to be there for him. There were things between the two of them too, things they weren't saying. She didn't know if he wanted to say them or not.
She was afraid that he didn't.
But when Zuko had asked her to come to Ba Sing Se with him, so that he could go through Iroh's things and sell the tea shop for good, she'd said yes immediately. And not just because she wanted to guard him, or because of those unspoken things between them. At least, not entirely. She was worried about him.
She knew what going to Iroh's home would do to him. He was still raw about his uncle's death. He hadn't fully processed it, and she knew, even if he didn't, what he might feel just being there, in the places Iroh had loved the best.
She could feel Iroh's presence in the shuttered tea shop, even now, months after his death. It was a warm feeling, of comfort and good food, better tea, and gentle laughter. Suki breathed in the scent of the old teas and some of the sorrow she felt for Zuko eased a little.
Her eyes landed on Zuko, still standing in the middle of the room. He breathed in the smell of tea too, and then his shoulders hunched. He let out a ragged sound and his pack hit the floor at his feet with a thud.
Suki dropped her own bag by the door, and crossed the distance between them instantly, even though she wasn't sure if Zuko would want her to see him cry or not. It didn't matter. He was hurting and she couldn't resist going to him.
Her hand touched his shoulder, and he let out a soft sound, turning to her.
"Suki..." he said, and she saw tears in his eyes. It hit her then, that she hadn't seen him cry. Not when he'd gotten the Earth King's letter. Not when the ship had arrived at the docks, with the draped coffin. Not at the funeral. Not at the feast held in his honor, attended by everyone Iroh had loved best. Not even afterward, when she'd found Zuko in the garden, walking in the moonlight alone.
His eyes had been dry that night, but his sorrow had been like a weight on his shoulders. When she'd looped her arm with his, he hadn't asked her to leave. He'd held onto her tightly and they'd walked in the garden for hours, until dawn. Neither of them had spoken a single word, not even after he'd kissed her.
But he hadn't cried.
Now, with the scent of tea in the air, and the almost ghost of cheer and warmth that was so very Iroh, Zuko's strength gave out on him at last. He looked at her and crumpled, his face contorting as all of the grief he'd been keeping back out of some stubborn pride, came tumbling out of him all at once.
"He's really gone," Zuko breathed and then her arms were around him, bringing him tightly against her body, as if she could shelter him from his grief that way. But there was no stopping the flood now that the gates were open.
Zuko's sobs were soft, but heartbreaking, as he cried into her shoulder, clutching at her, his face buried in her hair. They ended up on the floor, right in the middle of the dusty tea shop, the Fire Lord crying his heart out for everything he'd lost. His mentor, his protector, his guiding light. His beloved uncle. The father he should have had...did have.
She didn't tell him that it was going to be okay. She didn't try to soothe his sobs. She let him do what he'd needed to do for months, and that was grieve. Really grieve. Suki held him, stroking her hands through his hair, rocking him like a child while he clung to her, his fingers looped in hers.
The sun had gone by the time Zuko came back to himself. His head was in her lap, his eyes nearly swollen shut with his tears. Suki's fingers stroked his cheek, her own face glazed with tears. She had done her mourning for Iroh, a man who had embraced her wholeheartedly, and given her advice when she'd needed it most.
Advice she had, sadly, never gotten to follow, except once. In the moonlight with tears in her eyes.
She missed him, but it was for Zuko that she was mourning now. She felt his pain, had been feeling it since the funeral. She'd known how badly he had pent up his feelings and not dealt with his grief; she'd been waiting for him to break for some time now. She knew him too well. He had reached his breaking point, finally, and here was the result.
"I'm sorry," he said softly, after a long while, as she stroked his cheek and into his damp hair. The shadows were stretching long and deep in the dusty shop, creeping over them, threatening to swallow them whole.
"For what?" Suki whispered.
"I shouldn't have broken down like that," Zuko said thickly, and he lifted his head. His nose was bright red and leaking. Suki smiled gently in the gloom and pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket.
"You should have done it months ago," she said, as he blew his nose like a foghorn. "You don't have to be so damned strong all of the time, you know."
"I'm the Fire Lord," he started, and then grimaced, wiping at his nose again.
"You're a man," she said. "You men all think crying is a weakness or something." Her smile took the sting out of her words, though she meant them. "You miss him, Zuko. You're allowed to grieve for him. You're allowed to cry whenever you want. That doesn't make you anything but human. Even Fire Lord's get to grieve."
"I didn't want to believe he was really gone," he said, looking down at the crumpled cloth in his fingers. "But he is."
Suki nodded. "He is."
Zuko took a few deep breaths and then looked up at her. "Thank you, Suki. For being here. For..."
"You never have to thank me, Zuko. There's nowhere else I'd rather be than here with you," she said truthfully, as Zuko touched her hand. Her fingers turned, and their hands laced together. His skin was hot against hers as he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the backs of her fingers slowly.
She tried to ignore the tingles shooting through her body, or the way his red eyes searched hers. All of the silence between them since the funeral stretched out in that moment. She held her breath, remembering the look in his eyes in the garden, with the moon streaming down on them.
She could still remember that wild light in his eyes, the confusion and need, and the way his hands had shaken when he'd cupped her face. And when he'd kissed her...
It was everything she'd wanted for months, but it had confused her, that kiss. Zuko had been too torn up that night, the night of Iroh's funeral, to make rational decisions. Even though his kiss had been full of heat and things both of them hadn't been saying for months, she had pulled back.
She'd been afraid he was doing something he might regret later, when he emerged from the haze of his grief. She hadn't wanted him to regret kissing her.
She was afraid that he had anyway.
They hadn't talked about it. Not that night, nor any night since. It lay between them, as dusty as the teapots on the shelves around them.
"Zuko..." she started, but he took another ragged breath and slowly let go of her fingers. Fire bloomed between them, over his outstretched fingers. She blinked in the sudden light, only then realizing just how dark it had become in the shop.
"We should..." he started, but stopped, unable to get the words out. She understood anyway, and when he stood, she took the hand he offered. He pulled her to her feet, but quickly let her go.
She didn't know what he was thinking. She was afraid to ask.
They left the shop, and entered Iroh's living quarters at the back. Iroh's employee, a woman named Tana, had cleaned out the kitchen before she'd closed the place up, so no food had been left to rot, but she hadn't touched anything else. Everything was just as Iroh had left it.
Zuko lit the lamps, and walked around the rooms one by one, running his fingertips over every little item, from pillows, to paintings, to books neatly lined up on shelves, to the collection of ancient porcelain tea cups on a shelf above the cold, iron-bellied stove that had always been warm and cheerily burning away when Iroh had been there.
Even surrounded by his things, the feeling of emptiness was palpable. Iroh's ghost was there, but it was a pale shade of the larger than life man he'd been. She knew Zuko could feel it too. He didn't break down again though; he seemed beyond tears now.
Or maybe he had just finally let himself believe that his beloved uncle was truly gone from the world. Maybe he was ready to make peace with it.
There were two guest rooms, and Iroh's old bedroom. They were both exhausted by the journey to Ba Sing Se, and the emotions of the moment, but neither of them moved toward the bedrooms. Instead, Zuko retrieved their packs and then pulled out a tin of tea. She knew that it had been a gift from Iroh.
Suki sat at the table she and Zuko, and Aang, Katara, Sokka, Toph, Mai, Azula, and Ty Lee had all sat around at one time or another, laughing and safe and happy, drinking tea and eating sweet buns, playing pai sho, while Momo stole peaches from the shelves and scampered around the room chittering. So many happy days, gone now.
Suki watched Zuko wordlessly rinse out a dusty teapot, Iroh's favorite, and then fill it with water. He lit the iron-bellied stove, and the heat and light filled the room. It seemed to be almost a ritual, as Zuko silently went to work, making the tea with his back turned to her.
When the tea was done he came to the table with the cups on a tray. Steam rose from the pot and the scent of the tea was no longer a ghost, but a wreathing spirit, filling her nose with the heady scent.
Zuko prepared three cups, one for him, one for her, and the other he set out in front of the empty chair Iroh had always sat in. Zuko sank into a chair, letting out a sigh, as if making the tea had taken all of the strength he had left.
He stared into the depths of tea for a long moment and then looked up at her rawly. He lifted his tea cup high.
"To Uncle."
Suki lifted her cup too and clinked it against his. "To Iroh."
They sipped their tea, neither of them looking at the steaming cup sitting in honor at the head of the table. When Suki looked up, Zuko was watching her with soft eyes.
"What are you thinking?"
"I don't know," Zuko said over the rim of his cup. Then he set the cup down. "That's a lie. I know what I'm thinking."
She didn't say anything. She watched him as he struggled with something; she could practically see the gears in his head grinding together.
"Uncle gave me some advice a few months before he died. I was too afraid to follow it. I'm sure he was very disappointed in me," he said bitterly, still staring at her in the soft firelight from the lanterns and the stove. His eyes were still red, bloodshot, but there was something very clear there too.
"He was never disappointed in you," Suki said, smiling a little. "He was always so proud of you."
"I know," he said and then ran a hand through his hair. "I just wish... I wish I'd followed his advice back then. He would have liked to have seen his handiwork, I think. Scheming old man that he was."
Zuko smiled, that same far-away smile she sometimes caught on his lips when no one but her was looking.
Suki spun her half-empty cup on the table in front of her. She remembered the advice she'd also gotten from Iroh a few months before he'd died too. She'd only followed that advice once, and now that kiss sat between them like a stone.
"What advice?" she asked, heat on the back of her neck as she looked up at him again. Zuko licked his lips, and he searched her face for a long moment.
"That I deserved to be happy. That... I shouldn't be afraid to be with the person I love," Zuko said quietly.
Suki stared at him, her heart beating furiously.
"And you didn't take his advice?" she asked after a moment.
"I tried to. Once," he said softly.
"You... You did?" she whispered.
"That night in the garden..." he started and then stopped, running a hand down his face. He looked away from her. "I..."
"Zuko?"
He looked at her again and he still seemed torn. She could read him like a book usually, but the look in his eyes confused her. He looked like he wanted to say something to her, but the pain in his eyes made him stop. His lips pressed together for a long moment as she sat there with her heart in her throat.
Just tell me how you feel, Zuko... Please... she practically begged him with her eyes. But Zuko drained his cup and then abruptly stood up.
"We can talk about that tomorrow. It's late. You're tired and I'm... I need to think. You should get some sleep."
His sudden change of subject sent her reeling. She looked down at her tea for a moment and then back up at him. "Okay, if that's what you want."
"Suki, I..." He started, but then looked away again. He seemed unable to look at her again, grabbing the empty cups and kettle and turning his back on her as he tidied up the kitchen. Suki didn't know what to do. There was so much between them; she could feel the weight of it all, sitting there like a massive rock crushing them both, but if he didn't want to budge it, she wasn't going to try either.
She'd give him all the time he needed, if that was what it took.
Suki grabbed her pack and wordlessly headed for one of the two guest bedrooms. She hesitated at the doorway of one of the rooms, as Zuko extinguished the lanterns he'd lit in the main room. When he turned around to face her, their eyes met.
"You know," Suki started, unable to stop herself. "Iroh gave me some advice too."
"What kind of advice?"
"That some things are worth waiting for. And that when the time was right I'd know it," she said. She smiled softly. "Goodnight, Zuko."
She could feel Zuko's eyes on her as she stepped into the guest room and closed the door, but not before she heard him whisper, "Goodnight, Suki."
Suki's heart was beating hard. Something about the look in Zuko's eyes had made her knees weak. She remember too well Iroh's sage words, as he'd comforted her in her unrequited heartache. Iroh hadn't said it then, but he'd just smiled at her when he'd told her to wait. And then he'd winked at her, as if he'd known something she hadn't.
Suki put on her nightclothes, and climbed into bed. The room was dusty, but the sheets felt clean and that was good enough for her. She lay there, watching the moon rising from a sliver in the shutters.
All she could think about was Zuko's kiss in the garden months ago, the way his hands had shaken, the way he'd breathed her name. The heat of his mouth, the desperation and sorrow in his kiss that had both made her cling to him and made her pull back in equal measure.
She still ached at the memory. It filled her up like grief, with no corners left empty for her hide in. Her heart hurt, thinking of the look in his eyes that night, and again tonight, as he'd cried in her arms, finally letting everything out.
Suki felt tears in her eyes. She didn't know why she was crying. For Iroh, for Zuko...for her own aching heart... It didn't matter.
A knock sounded on the door, startling her into sitting up. She reached for the fan she'd tucked beneath her pillow, but stopped when she heard Zuko's voice on the other side of the sliding rice paper door.
"Suki? Are you awake?"
She got out of the bed in a rush, her heart in her throat. When she opened the door, Zuko was standing on the other side, shirtless, his long hair unbound to his waist. He'd rinsed his face, and the redness was mostly gone. She could still see the sadness lingering in his eyes, but there was something else in his expression.
It was the same look he'd had on his face that night in the garden, just before he'd kissed her. Her breath caught in her chest as they stared at one another. And all of the things they hadn't said, they seemed to spill out between them in that moment. And she perfectly understood him, just as he understood her.
"Suki... I..." Zuko started, and then he rushed forward, entering the room and crashing into her as she crashed into him. Her arms went around his neck and he lifted her against his chest, his mouth hot and wanting against hers.
She didn't try to stop him. Not this time. She had pulled back that night in the garden, afraid that his grief had gotten the better of him, that he'd kissed her just to feel something, despite all of the signals she'd been getting from him before then.
But this...
This was different. She could see the need in him, the desire, and it was exactly how she felt too.
Zuko groaned against her mouth, walking her backward toward the bed. His mouth was dangerous; his kisses igniting her like a wildfire, a blaze beyond her control. His tongue dipped into her mouth and he stole her breath. She didn't care one bit, gasping between each deep kiss, her fingers digging into his hot, muscled shoulders.
Zuko set her on her feet and his hands slid down her back to her ass, cupping her, bringing her against him. Then his hands slipped up beneath her nightgown and with one almighty wrench he pulled it up and over her head.
He tossed it aside and then clasped her to him, his mouth dashing hungrily across hers. When he worked his mouth down her neck and then lifted her again, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He took her weight with ease, but he didn't hold her up for long.
They crashed onto the bed together, limbs tangled, mouths finding each other again. She got her fingers into the back of his soft, loose pajama pants, pushing them down his ass. Then she brought her legs up, hooking her toes into the sides and dragging them down his thighs, but not completely off of him.
He growled against her mouth at that, as his cock brushed heavily against her stomach. He leaned back on his knees, and grasped her panties. His hair spilled in his face as he ripped them neatly down the side, the sound of the fabric ripping loud and unforgiving.
He shoved the ragged bits of fabric aside and looked up at her in the moonlight. She expected his eyes to be wild, but there was nothing but desire there, a deep, aching need that she could feel in the galloping pace of her own ragged breathing.
"Is this okay?" he breathed, his eyes searching hers.
"Yes, yes, yes, please," she panted in a rush, lifting her head to capture his mouth. She reached for him at the same time, hooking her legs around his thighs as his mouth devoured hers again. Her fingers dug into his ass as Zuko positioned himself at her opening. And then...
They both broke the kiss as he entered her, their mouths dragging against one another, their breathing guttural, filled with heat and burning pleasure. He filled her slowly, as Suki held him to her.
His nose nuzzled hers, his open lips dragging against hers as she shivered beneath him. Zuko tensed, stilling above her as he bottomed out.
"Zuko," Suki breathed, her voice barely audible above the catch of his breath. Then he kissed the words from her lips and he took her.
He wasn't gentle. She didn't want him to be. She'd wanted him, inside of her, on top of her, his skin against hers, his mouth warm and wet against hers for too long. His need was just as deep, as wild and violent as hers.
Her fingers dug half-moons into his ass, and then dragged his back as he fucked her hard and deep, taking her in long strokes that rocked the bed beneath them. The sound of his body against hers was loud, as loud as the hard gasps she made between his deep kisses.
When he reached down, cupping beneath her ass and readjusting them, her head dug back into the pillows. His mouth attached to her throat, digging in until all she could do was clutch at his head as he rocked them in place on the narrow bed.
His hair was everywhere and she tangled her fingers in it, dragging him back to her mouth as he brought her closer and closer to the edge. Zuko's hand slipped beneath her neck as he pulled back, lifting up to watch her in the darkness, his hips rocking against hers. Her eyes closed as she felt her body giving, coiling with pleasure too intense to deny.
"Look at me..." he whispered and she did, meeting his eyes in that sliver of silver moonlight. His eyes glittered as she gasped his name, her head digging back, eyes on his.
She came with a hard cry, pulling him down into her arms again. Zuko didn't stop, working her through her orgasm with a roll of his hips. A breathless laugh left her; she couldn't stop it. She felt giddy, overwhelmed, as Zuko buried his face in her neck.
She lifted into him, taking him as he took her. Her lips scattered along his muscular shoulder, kissing the welts her fingers had dragged.
His hands found hers, and their fingers laced again. When he rolled them, she laughed again, giddily, and so did he this time. The sound from him was foreign, so unexpected after months of his brooding, grief-stricken silences, that all she could do was wrap her arms and legs around him, settling into his lap. She rained kisses across his face as their furious pace slowed. His pleasure was a slow rumble in his chest, his big hands smoothing up her back as she rode him.
She could see the smile on his face in the moonlight as she rocked gently against his hips, her breasts against his chest.
"What are you smiling about?" she whispered, still breathless, her hands cupping his face. Zuko searched her eyes and then he kissed her, soft and sweet.
"I love you," he said when he pulled back. Suki stilled completely, her breath catching. Zuko seemed to realize what he'd said a moment later and she saw his eyes widen in the moonlight. Her eyes searched his for a long moment.
Then she leaned in and kissed his scarred eyelid. Zuko let out a soft sigh as she rained kisses down his cheek. Her fingers twisted up in his long hair as her mouth hovered over his.
"I love you too," Suki said and kissed him. Zuko groaned again, his arms tightening around her, kissing her the way he'd kissed her that night in the garden.
They made love for what felt like hours, until her body was singing and sweat clung to every inch of her. He ripped the tattered remnants of her panties off at some point and she missed them not at all. His pants, still tangling his knees, were soon kicked aside. They learned each other's bodies in little breathless pants, soft caresses, gentle nips. She teased them both, riding him into a frenzy and then slowing her pace until they both groaned for release.
They teetered on the edge and she brought them both over together, Zuko's head digging into the pillow and her name on his lips like a prayer.
All of the strength went out of her at once and she collapsed forward against his chest. She could hear his heart beating, practically galloping as he struggled to find his breath. His hands twined into her damp hair and he held her to his trembling chest, even though they were both sweating, too warm, overstimulated.
"Do you know how long I've wanted to do that?" Zuko panted into the darkness.
"Not as long as I've wanted to," she said with a laugh against his chest. She lifted her head and Zuko's brow arched.
"Wanna bet?" he said and then he smiled again. Suki couldn't help herself. She darted forward, kissing that smile on his lips. Then bit his bottom lip for good measure. The kiss turned deadly serious though, almost instantly, and she found herself being rolled over in place. He pulled out of her body then, and she made a pleased sound at the ache that followed.
His mouth trailed down her body, lingering on her breasts and then he pushed her shaking legs open. It was all she could do not to come out of her skin, her back bowing, clinging to him, the churned up sheets and blankets, the wooden headboard, her aching breasts. He made soft sounds as he pleasured her, and when she was sure she couldn't take any more, he let her fall over the precipice of another orgasm that left her shaking, clinging to him.
He worked his way back to her mouth and nuzzled her nose with his. She felt his smile against her mouth, and then he kissed her again, as heated as before, the taste of her body sweet on his tongue.
When Zuko finally pulled back, they were both breathless again. He sat up on his knees and then waved his hands at the oil lamps on the nightstands. They came to life, and she blinked in the sudden brightness.
Zuko's eyes flashed as he looked down at her, naked and spread beneath him. His teeth dug into his bottom lip for a moment.
"Spirits, I should have done that from the start," he said a groan and she preened as his eyes flicked over her naked body. Her own eyes followed the trail of hair on his lower stomach.
"I agree. What a view," she said and he laughed, a genuine sound of happiness that made her heart soar. Then he swung his legs out of the bed. "And just where are you going?"
"I'm going to make us some tea," he said, dashing a smile back in her direction before snatching his discarded pants from the tangle of blankets they'd tossed aside at some point. "I worked up a thirst."
And he walked out of the room, gloriously naked, leaving Suki to collapse against the mattress, her head spinning.
He loved her. Zuko loved her. He was in love with her.
That felt like something they should talk about.
Just as soon as my legs start working again, Suki thought stupidly, smiling as she stared up at the ceiling. But as much as she wanted to lay there in a post-coital stupor and nap, there were things she had to take care of. She found her nightgown on the floor, and pulled it on.
When she left the room, wobbly legs and all, Zuko was standing at the big, iron-bellied stove, humming happily to himself. He'd put his pants back on, and his hair was tumbled and tangled half-way down his back. She could still see the welts she'd put in his skin, little red streaks like tattoos of her pleasure.
She tiptoed into the privy and cleaned herself up. She washed her hands and came out to find that Zuko had retrieved some of the food they'd packed with them for the journey. He was still humming as he worked, but little snatches of song peppered the hums as he chopped up chunks of cheese with a sharp-bladed knife. Suki leaned against the wall and watched the firelight play on his back as he worked, her heart thumping hard, her head spinning.
"It's a long, long way to Ba Sing Se, but the girls in the city, they look so pretty," Zuko sang, his voice clear and rich. She'd never heard him sing before, and it made her whole body tingle. "They kiss so sweet, that you really have to meet, the girls from Ba Sing Se..."
The tea kettle on the stove let out a loud whistle and he retrieved it, turning down the flames on the stove and then practically bouncing toward the table. He saw her standing there when he looked up and the smile he shot her was radiant.
That expression and his obvious happiness hit her like a thunderbolt. The grief that had been slowly drowning him for months now seemed far away, a distant ghost clinging to the corners of his eyes. Still there, but just shadows now.
All of the worries she'd had about him, the sleepless nights, and her own grief over his grief, dissipated in that look. A knot in her stomach loosened.
Zuko was going to be okay.
"Hey," she said.
"Hey," he breathed, putting down the kettle. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving." He gestured to the plate of cheese, some sliced apples, a handful of nuts, a bunch of glossy purple grapes, and two large hunks of toasted bread slathered with honey. They hadn't brought much with them on their journey, but Zuko had made it look like a feast. Or maybe, like him, she'd worked up an appetite.
"That looks amazing," she said, sitting down at the table. Zuko popped a hunk of cheese into his mouth and chewed it while he made their cups of tea.
He only made two cups this time.
"I feel like I haven't eaten in months," Zuko said as he finally sat down. Suki was slowly eating the grapes, watching him with her heart on fire.
"You haven't. I've been worried about you. All you do is pick at your plate," she said and then flushed a little. Zuko looked up and saw the expression on her face.
"I know you've been worried about me, Suki."
"That's my job," she said warmly, but Zuko's hand landed on her knee and caressed it.
"I knew it was more than that," Zuko said and then cleared his throat. "Or at least I was hoping it was. I wanted to tell you. About how I felt. That I was in love with you. I was just afraid. That was before Uncle... Afterward... Well, I haven't been dealing with... This." He gestured to the dusty kitchen and the shop beyond it. "It's been hard."
Her hand covered his and she squeezed. "I know. I was afraid too."
Zuko studied her face for a moment. "Afraid of what?"
Suki chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, picking at her bread. She licked honey off of her fingertip and the sweet, sticky flavor spread on her tongue. "That night in the garden, after the funeral... I was afraid you didn't mean it. I thought you were just upset."
"I was. That doesn't mean I didn't mean it," Zuko said and then laughed, leaning back in his chair. "I was afraid you didn't mean it either. You pulled away from me that night. I thought I'd been misreading it the entire time."
"You weren't," Suki said and she laughed too, putting her hand over her face. "So this entire time? How long?"
"Too long," Zuko said darkly. "Uncle kept pushing me to tell you for months, but I couldn't do it."
"He kept telling me to tell you too. He knew how we both felt about each other. He must have thought we were idiots."
"He said something to that effect more than once," Zuko mused, popping a grape into his mouth.
"He was right, you know."
"He usually was," Zuko said, and his gaze became far away for a moment. It wasn't the same sad, distant look he'd been wearing for months, though. It was a fond kind of acceptance. "We were both idiots. Or maybe just me."
"That's not what I meant," Suki said. Zuko's brow arched in question.
Suki smiled and then swiftly straddled his lap. Zuko didn't seem surprised, even when she kissed him. His arms immediately went around her and he kissed her back with interest, humming that happy sound against her lips. He tasted like grapes and tea, with honey clinging to both of their lips.
Suki pulled back and brushed his hair back behind his ears. She looked into his eyes.
"You were worth the wait. And when the time was right, I did know. I love you."
Zuko didn't say anything. He smiled and then kissed her again, and that was all she needed. She could feel how he felt about her in that kiss. He'd tried to tell her that night in the garden, but maybe they hadn't been ready yet. Now they were.
She'd miss Iroh. They all would, and no one more than Zuko, but even now, months after his death Iroh was still with them. She could feel him there in his dusty kitchen, with its old smells of tea and happiness, the lingering spirits of comfort and family still resting in the corners like old friends.
It was a place of love and happiness, of tea and sympathy, not a place for grief and pain.
Iroh had been right. They both deserved happiness, even in the wake of tragedy.
It was advice they were both happy to take.
(end)