Burning was easy.

The hot Summer breeze caressed his skin, breathing life back even into the dull scar tissue that had claimed so much of his face. Although his hands were resting calmly against his knees, his palms buzzed with energy; his body wanted to move.

Inhaling deeply, he embraced the dry heat surrounding him.

In his mind, the world had been reduced to everything that burned and anything that was not on fire, yet.

Underneath him, the ancient river of magma flowed in tune to the tireless power in his veins; it would be so easy to let the world go up in flames.

From high above, the merciless sun whispered into his ear.

Do not hold back…

It wanted to feast through him. It wanted to consume. It wanted to leave nothing but ashes in its wake. The easiest way out was to give in—it was always the same old promise.

Zuko did not enjoy destroying very much, though, and it had been a long time since he had believed in false promises of power. Ignoring the fire within, he found serenity in his daughter's warm presence next to him. Zuko was pleased with her even breathing, the perfect silence between them.

True mastery of their element meant not burning, not giving in. It was to channel power and not to be controlled by it. To feed the flame without leaving waste behind. To find silence in the blaze; freedom in peace.

Zuko emptied his mind; took in the world around him, everything that lived, everything that he would not let burn.

He was anchored by the sound of his son's and uncle's gentle laughter from the shaded pyeong-sang. If he focused, he could hear the twins' soft cries and a lovely lullaby from somewhere within the palace. He imagined running his fingers through thick dark curls and felt like dipping his hands into the turtleduck pond; to simply extinguish the ever consuming fire in his bones. He–

The candles in front of them flickered. Kya yawned.

"Did we come out here to nap?" Zuko asked calmly, ignoring the moan that followed his question.

"This is boring, baba."

"That's the point of meditation."

"And my butt hurts."

"No talking, Kya."

"You talked first."

Zuko opened his eyes against the bright afternoon light when Kya's candle went out. Raising an eyebrow at its waxy remains, he extinguished his own candle with a flicker of his wrist and suppressed a sigh.

"You were supposed to not let it burn down."

Kya shrugged and untangled her legs from underneath her. She stretched her tan arms towards the sun, yawning once again. Her father considered her.

Nobody could deny that she was an excellent young Firebender. Her footwork was outstanding; her technique graceful and clever. Aged nine, Kya was able to incorporate numerous different bending and non-bending styles into her movements, which had earned her high praise from all her teachers. Zuko knew she had everything it took to become a master of her element.

If only she were a little more disciplined, somewhat less impatient…

Instructing the Avatar in the arts of Firebending had not been as nerve-wracking as teaching this one little girl how to sit still, and the world had been at stake then.

At times like this, Zuko wondered if Katara was right and he was too soft on their daughter. He regularly observed Katara and Iroh practice; his wife was a gentle and dedicated teacher but did not tolerate idleness when it came to Waterbending. Zuko was convinced Iroh's bending skill was a direct result of Katara's firm guidance.

Straightening his spine, Zuko chided, "You're not taking this seriously enough, Kya."

Perfectly unimpressed, the girl looked over at her brother and grandfather who were still giggling over their game of Pai Sho.

"I don't want to watch a candle burn all day," she pouted, "I want to show Grandpa my new moves."

How was Zuko supposed to be firm when he understood so well? Summer was at its peak, the dry air was buzzing with energy and how could he say no when she looked like the spitting image of her mother whenever she made that face?

Cursing himself, Zuko drew Kya's attention back to him by gently pulling the tip of her thick braid.

He held out his hand and the bright smile on her face made it all worth it.

Spirits, he was too soft.

"Let's show this old man how it's done, then."

"Focus, Kya," he instructed, sidestepping her attack. "Go for the shins."

A ball of flames hit the ground, scorching the grass where his feet had been only a moment ago. The General and little Iroh cheered loudly.

"Good. Again."

Whatever impatience Kya had for meditation and candles was replaced by determined endurance in combat. She had outgrown singeing her own hair. Her movements were swift and well-calculated; someone unfamiliar to her style would hardly be able to predict her next strike. Zuko felt pride rushing through him.

"Keep your leg straight when you kick."

The girl spun and the blaze from her hands flashed more blue than red. Although Zuko had smothered the flame easily, she stumbled back a few steps, before remembering to raise her arms in a simple defensive stance.

"It's alright. Keep the temperature down like we practised last week."

Nodding, Kya composed herself; danced around him for a bit before daring to attack again. This time, her form was near perfect and Zuko told her so, which earned him a smirk that reminded him a little too much of his sister.

Parrying her next move, Zuko locked his foot behind her ankle and pulled her legs from underneath her. Kya squeaked as she lost her balance.

"Enough for today, firecracker," Zuko said, catching her before she could hit the ground.

Iroh ran over to Kya, splashing her with water from the pond. Scandalised by the sudden disturbance, the turtleducks quacked in unison, which made the children laugh even more.

Stepping on the pyeong-sang, Zuko took his son's abandoned seat at the Pai Sho board.

"Our Crown Princess is improving by the day," observed the old General, offering his nephew a cup of tea.

"She is too eager," Zuko sighed, wiping the sweat off his palms before taking the cup. "Too impulsive."

They watched the children's playful fight. Kya had locked her foot behind her brother's leg, trying out the same move Zuko had used on her only a few minutes before—except that both children fell backwards into the shallow pond when Iroh lost his balance, dragging his sister with him. The men laughed as the drenched children emerged from the pond and while Iroh lifted the water off his clothes, Kya had engulfed herself in a cloud of rapidly rising steam.

"Kya! Too hot, again!"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Zuko closed his eyes and moaned. "Spirits, how often do I have to tell her?"

The older man took a sip from his teacup and considered the Fire Lord.

"Too eager. Too impulsive. Doesn't listen to what she's being told..." the General mused soberly. "I wonder who dear Princess Kya takes after."

Suddenly being highly aware of what his uncle meant, Zuko scowled. "This is different!"

"If you say so, dear nephew..."

Avoiding his uncle's self-satisfied grin, Zuko observed the unfinished Pai Sho game. He frowned; the White Lily was not supposed to be placed like this, was it?

"You're not scamming a seven-year-old, are you, Uncle?"

The old man laughed and swiftly picked up the artful tiles, returning them to their proper starting position.

"I was just showing young Iroh how to increase his odds of winning..."

The children's laughter ceased abruptly, then.

The sudden wave of heat could have easily been mistaken for a late Summer breeze, but Zuko and General Iroh knew better than that.

They were Firebenders after all.

Afterwards, Zuko was shamefully grateful that he had not actually seen it happen. He had felt it in his bones, though, had read it in his uncle's terrified eyes. It was already over when he saw his son hitting the ground.

In one second, the world had come to a halt; in the next, Zuko was in motion. Knocking over the Pai Sho board, he jumped off the wooden platform and ran.

Zuko wondered when he had last moved this fast.

Had it been when a two-year-old Kya had climbed on the balcony railing without anybody noticing?

The one time Iroh had gone missing in the streets of Ba Sing Se?

When he had been notified of the twins' birth right after being lost on an arctic ocean with Sokka for three days straight?

No, he thought, the last time he had moved this fast, he had caught lightning with his heart.

The pain in his knees did nothing to clear his head when he dropped to the ground next to Iroh. Angry red blisters were already growing from his jaw up to his ear; the stench of burnt skin penetrated Zuko's mind, dragging him back to where he usually dared not to venture. He knew the pain, knew the wild look in Iroh's huge blue eyes, knew that he had no means to make the pain stop. He watched helplessly as the boy fell unconscious.

Zuko heard himself groan.

This could not be happening. He would rather take lightning again, a hundred times, if it meant not seeing his child like this.

Bile rose in his throat. This was his fault, was it not? He had failed to protect him. What if the boy would be disfigured forever? His son? Was this some sick kind of joke?

How was he supposed to earth himself on spinning ground?

It felt like hours until the old General had made it to them. He pushed Zuko gently aside and examined the child's face.

"Fetch the Fire Lady, please," he told the first servant who had come to see what the commotion in the gardens was about.

Katara? Zuko stared as his uncle patted Iroh's uninjured cheek. Katara. Of course! Katara could fix this mess. Iroh would be fine because Katara would set everything right like she always did.

"Can Mama heal him?"

Kya's shaking voice drew his attention away from Iroh. Her face had turned ghastly pale and suddenly Zuko's brain started to catch up with the world around him. He stared at the girl, his own child, who had not moved an inch from where she had hurt her little brother with her bending. The real lightning struck Zuko, then. She had done it. She had burned half her brother's face off—for what?

Zuko felt the old heat boiling in his core.

"You can't rely on other people to fix your mistakes!"

Kya flinched and he wished immediately that he had not yelled at her. Yelling was not something he did when it came to his children but his voice was firm and the words came easy for once and he was already back on his feet, back in motion. Burning.

"Look what you have done!"

How did things always end up like this within these royal walls? Family did not naturally turn against family. Maybe there was something wrong with him and his blood after all?

"I've told you a million times to be careful!"

Zuko towered over her. "What have you done!?"

Kya's eyes brimmed with hot tears and his head hurt even more by the sight of it, but it was so much easier to embrace the pain than to think.

"What is wrong with you?"

"Zuko, stop!"

He was not sure whether his uncle or Katara had spoked, but he let out a sigh of relief upon seeing Katara and her entourage of healers hurry over to them.

Zuko rushed towards his wife; there was the sun on his horizon. She had some ink stains on her cheek and her hair was ruffled, but she looked regal carrying Yuka in a wrap on her back while balancing an upset Yutu on her hip. She pressed the toddler into Zuko's arms as she went past him.

"He is burned, Katara," he called after her, but nobody seemed to take notice of him, except for Yutu whose bright blue eyes observed him closely.

Katara had kneeled down to examine the injury on her son's face. She exchanged a few hushed words with the General, before waving a young Waterbender over to her. The teenager handed her a flacon filled with water before stepping back to observe his teacher's movements. The water embracing Katara's hands glowed coolly as it was led over Iroh's small face.

Zuko held his breath.

It took but a moment before Iroh stirred under his mother's healing touch.

"Hello, penguin," Katara smiled when Iroh slowly opened his eyes.

Clinging to Yutu, Zuko could only watch as Katara and the General helped the dazed boy sit. Like magic, the blisters on his face were gone, replaced by a reddened patch of smooth skin.

Zuko released the breath he had been holding. Everything would be fine now.

"Let's go inside to get a better look, alright?"

Ignoring Katara's words, Iroh looked around in worried confusion, before settling his gaze on his father.

"Baba, where is Kya?"

"We are positive that Crown Princess Kya has left the Palace grounds," reported the guard stiffly, "A search-group is on its way to the city as we speak. By my honour, we will find her soon, your Majesty."

Night had fallen over the Royal Palace and Zuko's migraine grew stronger by the minute.

Kya was still afraid of the dark; there was no way she would be hiding outside, let alone in the big city, but he was too exhausted to go over this with the guards again.

They did not know her as he did. They wanted to cover their bases because it was their job to find the Crown Princess. They did not really care—not as he did.

Taking a deep breath, he waved the man off. It was not the guards' fault that Kya was missing; Zuko alone was to blame.

Watching the man leave, he dragged a hand over his face. It had been one of the worst days of his life and it did not seem to be nearly done with him.

Katara was mad at him for scaring Kya away.

Iroh was highly upset about his big sister's disappearance.

The twins were teething and his uncle had nothing but useless advice for him.

Within hours, the palace had turned into a madhouse and Zuko was sure he would be the first person to lose his mind if they did not find Kya any time soon.

But where could she have gone?

Zuko was sure she had not left the palace, but even so, the possibilities of her whereabouts were endless. They had searched the most obvious places over and over again but the palace was huge and she was just one little girl.

Zuko let out a frustrated groan. He had found the elusive Avatar once; damn him if he could not find his own daughter under his own roof.

Closing his eyes, Zuko tried to focus. He had to approach this rationally and with the utmost care.

Kya must have been quite upset when she had run off. Knowing her and her notoriously long cooling-off-periods, she could not have made it far.

She had not eaten since noon, so she would probably be hungry by now. They had already searched the kitchens, but Kya was small and swift on her feet, knew the palace like the back of her hand; she might have sneaked into the kitchens without anybody noticing…

Zuko decided it was as good a place to double-check as any.

By now, the kitchens laid dark and empty. Making his round, Zuko looked under the tables and into some cupboards for any signs of Kya, but all he found was a mother cat and her kittens who had made themselves comfortable next to one of the fireplaces.

"How did you guys get in…?" he wondered, but the answer struck him as he spoke. The kittens. He should have thought of them sooner.

Zuko hurried over to the backdoor, which was opened just wide enough for the animals to sneak in from the courtyard. Looking outside, he sighed with relief as he spotted the fine rice bowls Kya set out to feed the palace stray cats every evening. He could not quite remember when she had taken up the habit, but she had made it her personal duty to care for the cats—no matter what.

Zuko could not help but chuckle as he examined the empty bowls. Only Kya would arrange them to stand under the small roof to protect the cats from the rain, even in the annual dry season; because that was what his daughter did—making sure that everybody was fine.

Kya had indeed not left the palace. She had come to feed the cats after nightfall, even though she must have been afraid and upset. After all that had happened today, she had remembered her responsibility.

Suddenly, Zuko knew exactly where she was.

"Kya."

The throne room was used only a couple of times a year as it was drafty and uninviting by design; it was not built to hold fond memories within its walls.

The girl was looking up at the Fire Throne when Zuko entered. Engulfed in darkness, he saw the outline of her small frame flinch as his voice echoed through the silence—at least he hoped this to be the reason for her reaction.

"Father."

Kya's voice shook as she turned slowly. He could not make out her face and was about to approach her, to hold her and tell her that he was sorry when she started rushing towards him.

The weight of the past few hours was instantly lifted off Zuko's shoulders. Everything would be fine again.

He opened his arms for the embrace that did not come.

Kya threw herself at her father's feet, bowing her head deeply enough for her forehead to touch the cold ground.

"Forgive me!"

It was Zuko's turn to flinch. Only now was she close enough for him to notice that her pretty braid was gone; sloppily chopped strands of hair were streaming over her face, hiding her from him.

"I never meant to hurt him, father, I swear it! I didn't do it on purpose!"

The sheer terror in her voice made his skin crawl. What had he done?

"I will never bend again if that is what you want!"

Her violent sobbing filled the otherwise silent room.

"I'm so sorry!"

He could only stare at his firstborn.

"I promise I will be good now."

Whatever panic and fury had taken hold of him earlier in the gardens was nothing compared to the pain he was feeling now.

How much could change within so little time?

Had it been hours since they had all laughed together under the hot Summer sun, or even years?

Had he destroyed any trust this child had ever had in him with so little words?

The gruesome scene in front of him broke his heart.

In one moment Zuko had been looking at Kya, in the next, he was dropping to the ground, gathering her into his arms. He held her as tightly as he could without hurting her, lest he would shatter.

Zuko cradled Kya to his chest as her sobs ebbed away. They sat on the stairs to the sinister throne that was both their fate. Zuko whispered apologies against her silken hair that now only barely reached below her chin. Katara would be so mad at him, Zuko thought, but after today he could take that, too.

"Will Iroh be alright?" Kya sniffed. They were her first words since… earlier.

Zuko nodded, resting his cheek against her head.

"Promised?"

"Promised."

Relaxing a little, she nodded, too.

"Is Ma mad at me?"

"No. But she's mad at me. Rightfully so," he cleared his throat. "I'm very sorry that I yelled at you, Kya, I shouldn't have."

"It's okay, baba. I shouldn't have hurt Iroh either."

It was not okay, not unless she understood why he had been so upset.

They sat in silence for a moment, before Zuko sighed. He lifted Kya's head, brushed some hair from her face and looked into her tear-streaked amber eyes that were so much like his own.

"Do you know how I got this scar?"

"This one?" frowning, Kya pointed at his chest.

"No, the other one."

She shook her head.

And so Zuko told her.

"What if you hadn't been here?" he murmured against the soft skin of her shoulder. "Iroh could've been... disfigured."

Katara stopped caressing his arm which he had draped around her waist and turned to frown at him in the half-darkness. "Disfigured like you?"

Avoiding her eyes, he nodded. He was glad that he had made up with Kya, but the day's numerous shocks were still sitting deep.

"You're a perfect idiot sometimes, Fire Lord." Katara punched him softly against the chest before she laid her hand against the rough scar tissue of his face. Her blue eyes had gone soft. "I'm very proud of you, you know?"

Zuko leaned into the touch, kissing her wrist. "Proud that I made a huge mess of today?"

She shook her head, leaning in to kiss his temple.

"I'm proud that you care."

His brow.

"That you know when you did wrong."

His cheek.

"That you're kind."

His lips.

"That you love us."

He returned her kiss, drowning in her until she pulled away.

"And by the way," she grinned, wrapping her legs around his hips. "I don't think we would have four children if I didn't think you were handsome..."