A/N: i'm sorry it's taken forever for me to update, but, as you probably know if you read these notes at the beginning of every chapter/if you follow me on tumblr, between work/school/clubs/job hunting/grad school applications i have absolutely zero free time (but i'm not giving up on this fic i swear). i had to edit this chapter a lot because, ironically, i thought it was too shippy... (lol the first few drafts of this chapter were really cringy and corny) but i didn't want to ruin the flow of the fic sooo i hope you enjoy this and leave a review por favor xx

"Thank you," Katara says, without any prompting. Zuko looks at Katara and realizes that she's talking to him. This is a stupid realization; he and Katara are the only ones on Appa, but still, her voice, despite being so familiar, always sounds so foreign when it's addressing him. She hasn't really been talking since they faced Yon Rha without prodding, and he's surprised that this is her first attempt at initiating interaction. He looks at her quickly; it's his turn to steer Appa back to the group and he prefers to have his eyes trained in front of him, but even in a passing glance, Katara looks better than she has in the past few days. Her eyes are still duller than usual and her small smile seems forced, but she's smiling in his direction. He thinks that maybe, she'll recover from this. She'll be okay after all.

"For what?" Zuko asks. He feels silly for not knowing and having to ask, and he's sure this must be ruining the moment somehow. The wind blows lightly and the sun is beginning to set, painting the sky a gradient of blues and reds and oranges. Appa grunts occasionally to fill the silence, but for now, the world is truly just Zuko and Katara, the only two beings in this moment.

"For going on this trip with me. For giving me a choice." Her voice fades out for a while. "For understanding."

Zuko forces himself to turn around and look at Katara now, despite his instinct to keep looking forward. She doesn't have to elaborate for him to know what she means. They'll be back with the others soon, but no matter how many times they might have to recount their adventure, no one will ever understand the mutual connection they now share because of it.

"I should thank you too, then," Zuko says.

"For?"

"For giving me a second chance. Letting me redeem myself to you..." He thinks for a moment before he continues. "For being the first person to ever trust me." They float through the quiet air, with Appa's grunts as background noise. The sun reluctantly tips beyond the horizon and the sky darkens to a rich indigo within the blink of an eye. The moment is almost lost until Katara eventually speaks up.

"You earned it," she assures him, and Zuko has no doubts about her sincerity.

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"I'm just not sure how well you thought this through."

The words aren't foreign to Zuko, especially not from Iroh as the pair find themselves sitting out in the garden. This is one of Zuko's least favorite places to get work done, with all the animals crawling and chirping to distract him. He finds it especially irritating this morning, considering the fact that he'd been up far too late talking to Azula the previous night. He's sure his exhaustion shows in the circles under his eyes and the slump of his shoulders, but his uncle enjoys the fresh air, so as they sit under the drooping leaves of one of the old, oaky trees, Zuko refrains from complaining as much as he really wants to.

"Nothing is set in stone yet, Uncle," Zuko says. He gestures to the handful of scrolls seated on his lap while trying his hardest not to let his boredom consume him. His council made sure to provide as much information as they could about the situation in Ba Sing Se, though from what he can tell, a minimal amount seems to pertain to his mother. Zuko knows it's selfish to think this way, but having any hints of his mother's whereabouts incites a kind of genuine hope in him that he hasn't felt in years, and he can only pray that he won't regret getting this emotional for nothing should the rumors of his mother's location be false. He fiddles with a scroll at random and skims the writing quickly. "I have to figure out where to start looking first, at least."

"There's just so much that you have to consider, nephew," Iroh says. "Of course, I'm not telling you to ignore this altogether. I understand why you need to go on this journey. But you also have to realize how dangerous this mission is. I don't think you fully grasp the conflict in Ba Sing Se right now."

Zuko opens his mouth to contest this, but has no good responses.

"I'm working on getting our military out of the Earth Kingdom as soon as possible," Zuko finally says. "Once that's done I'm sure the problems in the Earth Kingdom will begin to die down."

"The issue runs far deeper than this," Iroh says. He gives Zuko a pointed look, one that says Zuko should know all this from the meetings (had he been listening like any halfway responsible person would've), but doesn't verbally reprimand him. "Small riots have been happening all over the city, demanding for Ba Sing Se to be cleansed. Many of the people want any Fire Nation citizens, not just our military, to leave their land. Some are even demanding anyone other than Earth Kingdom citizen be pushed out. Removing our military presence at this point may not be enough to persuade people to remain peaceful, especially not after a century of war."

Zuko finds himself chewing lightly on the inside of his cheek. He knows he is partly responsible for the disarray of Ba Sing Se, and though Iroh never brings it up, Zuko can't help but pin the blame on himself for this.

"How bad is it?" Zuko asks. He's not exactly meeting Iroh's gaze; he can't shake the feeling of shame that overwhelms him when it comes to this city, but he has to know what the situation is like. He needs to know how much his actions have affected others.

"There have been no casualties so far but… Things have been becoming more unstable. Immigrants are being strictly monitored to prevent Fire Nation citizens from entering. Arrests are being made over fears of firebenders starting trouble or planning to overthrow the city. Things have yet to escalate to extreme physical violence but it is not the safest place for any member of the Fire Nation to be right now."

"Including my mother," Zuko points out. His grips the scroll in his hand a little tighter.

"Including you," Iroh supplements. There's a long pause before Zuko finally sighs and continues looking at his scrolls.

"Well, that's why you're not coming with me," Zuko says. "I need someone here to oversee everything until I get back."

"I understand," Iroh says. He looks out at the garden and all the reddened leaves swaying in the breeze. "But I advise that you do not set your hopes too high. There is a possibility that you will come back from this journey having found something that you did not know you were looking for." Zuko isn't really reading anymore; his eyes land on the characters inscribed on the parchment, and he's tempted to tell Iroh to stop being so abstract in his speech, but instead, he resigns, and heeds his uncle's advice.

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"You can't be mad at me forever." Zuko looks at Mai from across the dining room as she continues to pick at the neatly packed noodles in the bowl in front of her. He hates feeling this frustrated. It'd be just as easy for him to ignore whatever tension is brewing between them the way she seems to, but he knows it's a trap. The second he stops begging and vying for her attention, everything will turn around and be his fault. It'll be his fault for not caring, for not trying, for being too emotionally detached for her to ever make things right.

The longer they go on with this spat, the more he wants to fall into the trap. He picks at his own bowl of noodles, but the ambiance of the room ruins his appetite.

"You can't expect me to pretend to agree with every decision you make," Mai finally retorts. She quietly takes a bite of her lunch, never bothering to offer Zuko so much as a glance, and he can feel himself seething from the other end of the table. "I'm your girlfriend, Zuko, not your yes-man."

"My political decisions shouldn't affect how you see me," Zuko says. "I thought long and hard about removing our military from Ba Sing Se, and I know it's what's best for our people. I thought you'd at least appreciate the fact that I was the one to tell you so you wouldn't have to hear it from someone else."

"What do you want? A pat on the back?" Mai breaks her deadpan demeanor long enough to scowl at Zuko and it's the most emotion he's seen her exhibit in a long time. "My father won't have a job anymore once you're done moving the military around, did you think about that? And then you're thinking about sending our people to the North and South Pole to fix those crummy villages you used to tell me about? How did you expect me to react?"

Zuko's eyes narrow. "I told you about those things before I joined the Avatar."

"Right," Mai says. "Because joining the Avatar and his ragtag team of misfits really changed you as a person."

"Yes," Zuko says defensively. "It really did." He wants to ask what she doesn't understand about this, but he almost doesn't want to know. There's something brewing and he feels like if he asks too many questions, they'll never be able to salvage what they had.

"Whatever," Mai says. "Don't think I'm going to act like I think any of these decisions are right just because you made them."

"I'm the Fire Lord," he says, ignoring how childish it feels to have to affirm his position to Mai of all people. "My decisions might not always seem right, but they will be respected." Mai's eyes flutter as if she's using all her self control not to roll them.

"Your father stripped you of your birth right for years and you spent months living as a fugitive," Mai says. "Being the Fire Lord doesn't absolve you of criticism." Zuko pretends that the tightness in his chest is a knee jerk reflex out of anger, rather than hurt. He knows this is how all arguments with Mai go, but this time, it hurts a lot more than he remembers it ever feeling. Zuko picks at his noodles and Mai stays quiet as they both let silence float around them.

"You know," Zuko finally speaks up. He's still looking at his noodles as he speaks; he's not sure how his anger will manifest itself if he looks at Mai right now. "I don't want a pat on the back or anything for telling you this, but I thought you should also know that I'm not just removing our military from the Earth Kingdom. I'm going to Ba Sing Se to find my mother." Zuko waits for reprimanding until he realizes that he can't even hear the squelching of noodles between chopsticks. When he finally looks up, Mai is staring back at him with big blank eyes.

"Your mother?" she repeats. She mulls over this information, picking it apart and processing every piece of it. "How do you know she's there?"

"There have been rumors―"

"Ah," Mai interrupts, a sardonic smile making an appearance on her face. "Of course. Rumors." Zuko sighs; he can't help it. It's exhausting, it's draining to be playing these games and dancing in circles when they both know Mai knows exactly how to say what she feels.

"What's that supposed to mean, Mai?" Zuko demands. "Just tell me."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she repeats. Her voice raises a few decibels as her sentences progress. "It means of course you're running off again. Anytime you have something good going for you here in the Fire Nation you find a way to ruin it for yourself. You did it as a child when you spoke out against your father. You did it when you walked out on me to join the Avatar. And now that you're here and you're the Fire Lord―you could have anything you want! You could actually put our people first like you've always preached about before your coronation―you're ready to just up and leave at the first chance you get."

Zuko feels his chest ache again, and this time he knows it's not out of anger. His eyes burn like mad, and he wants to get up and run and forget this interaction ever happened, but he knows to keep his dignity in tact, he has to stay here and take everything she says without a physical reaction.

"I just thought," Zuko pauses to clear his throat when he realizes how croaky and distorted it sounds. "I thought I should be the one to tell you," Zuko murmurs. Mai doesn't respond. They spend the rest of their lunch picking at their bowls of uneaten food. Neither one of them says a word.

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This is wrong.

He knows it's wrong as soon as the urge hits him and he genuinely toys with the idea to leave his room in the middle of the night to go see Katara. After all, it's not a far walk. If he wanted, he could make it to her chamber in a few short minutes, ignoring the questioning and staring from the guards doing their nightly rounds. He has no way of telling how late it is and can only assume that sunrise is still hours away. All he knows is how starkly awake he is right now, from the thoughts buzzing in his brain, to the twitch of his muscles that's usually faint enough to ignore, and all he wants is some sort of company to quell him.

He knows this is wrong, because his first thought should be to go to Mai to work out whatever it is that he's feeling, but it isn't. And no matter how much he knows that logically, he should feel worse about this, all he feels is the unrelenting urge to speak to Katara until he feels peace and solace.

He tries to list all the possible consequences of him going to Katara at this hour to deter himself from seeing her.

Naturally, he rolls out of bed anyway.

It takes a moment for him to throw on something more appropriate than a silk robe and to pull his hair up and out of his face. He slips into the hall, not even bothering to light the path for himself. Even with the years lost to his banishment, he knows the palace corridors like the skin on his bones. When he encounters his guards, he doesn't engage with them. He doesn't greet them or do anything to make his presence known. He stands tall, stays quiet, ignores the confused, salutations until he's in the wing Katara currently resides in. Perhaps he'll regret his stoic manner in the morning when his head's clearer.

When he reaches her door, there's a moment's hesitation as his knuckles linger on the hard surface. Maybe he'd be waking her. Maybe this was a poorer decision than he'd originally thought. His dull nails dig lightly into his palms as his fist remains suspended in front of him. When he finally works up the courage to knock, it feels as though his hand is working independently from the rest of his body.

There's a long, numbing silence before he can hear some shuffling on Katara's end and the door finally creaks open. Big blue eyes peer up at him from the opening, as sleepy as they are confused.

"Katara." He exhales her name and it feels soothing just to be in her presence.

She squints before opening the door wider and mutters, "This is only going to reinforce the idea that I'm your concubine."

Zuko cracks a halfhearted smile at Katara's quip, and takes her nonverbal cue to step inside her chamber.

"I didn't mean to wake you," Zuko begins, though he feels foolish for saying it. He did mean to―he wouldn't be here if that wasn't his intention―but he doesn't really have a reason for coming to see her. He wanted to, he thought it would make his restlessness a bit more bearable, but now that he's with her, he's not sure what he really thought was going to happen. He fumbles through the darkness with her and his eyes adjust to the lack of light. He can see her moving to her bed; the sheets rustle as she shimmies back amongst her blankets. Zuko chooses to sit on the ground. He already feels like he's intruding. He doesn't want to invade her personal space too.

"It's okay," Katara assures him, and even while she's between yawns, she manages to mellow the mood. "Is everything alright, though?"

"Yes," Zuko says too quickly. He huffs, and the silhouette of Katara's head tilts as if she's waiting for the real answer. "I'm just thinking too much as usual. Can't fall asleep."

"You have a lot to think about," Katara says. The only illumination at the moment is the bit of moonlight that manages to creep in from her window. Zuko doesn't need to see Katara to know she's exhausted. Her voice is fragile, groggy. Her shadow twists and slumps on her bed in a futile attempt to keep her tired body awake and upright. But she's conscious, she's listening, and he already feels the weight of the world being lifted off his shoulders.

"Don't I always?" he asks. He swings his wrist around so that a flame dances in the cozy cage of his fingers, lighting her room just enough for him to be able to make out the outline of her features. She looks older than when they met, more mature and jaded, but she doesn't look broken. She doesn't look so irreversibly changed, the way Zuko feels.

"I know it was impulsive to say I'm going to find my mother," he finally admits. If he hadn't been able to see her, he would've thought Katara had fallen asleep amidst the silence. Instead, she looks at the flame in his hand. Flecks of reds and yellows shimmer in her eyes and he wonders if this is as far as the conversation will go. Maybe there were limits to how much he could open up to her that he hadn't realized before. Maybe he misjudged how receptive Katara would be. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made such a rash decision and I shouldn't have woken you up to talk about it either but―"

"Do you think I'm going to lecture you about wanting to find your mother?" Katara asks. Zuko's body feels hot, and he knows it's not from the flame he's currently manipulating. The question sounds rhetorical, but her firm stare lets him know that his hesitation cannot let the silence between them last forever.

"I know I didn't handle the situation as well as I could have." Zuko huffs. "Should have."

"Of course I understand how you're feeling, Zuko," Katara says. She doesn't have to say it, but he knows that she empathizes with him wholeheartedly. Even in her sleepy eyes, he can see the girl he saw in the crystal catacombs all those months ago, optimistic, caring, and hopeful, letting him pour his heart out like blood on her lap. But this time is different. He sees all of her, the girl from the catacombs, but also the girl that encountered Yon Rha, passionate, impulsive, confused yet controlled. Fueling him. Supporting him. Invigorating him.

Katara's not touching Zuko; she hasn't gotten closer than arm's length since he entered the room, but something about her words makes him feel safer. Calmer. Cared for. He doesn't bother trying to hide how sincere his smile is with apathy or wit. Instead, he says, "I don't think you understand how good that is to hear."

He can't see very well, and he knows it might be a trick of the light, but he's almost certain Katara smiles at him with the same tenderness he feels in his chest.