Facade

Day 2: October 12

There were cracks in the mask, that sometimes formed during the day. Cracks in his facade as the noble Fire Lord, true and honest and healing. Healing the world from a century long war.

Sometimes, he didn't think about the work before him, when there was work to be done. Sometimes, he didn't listen when the meetings droned on and on in the throne room, or when the nobles flooded the palace during galas.

Sometimes, when he was supposed to be focusing, all he could focus on was Mai, sometimes sitting right next to him, sometimes across the room, sometimes miles away from him. He could almost feel her, though she was not touching him.

Behind the mask he wore for the public, he thought private things.

Of Mai's hair spilled on the pillowcase beneath her while she moaned. Of him kissing down her neck, his tongue flicking gently at her skin, before he nipped at one of her nipples. Of his name being chanted on her tongue as she neared climax, her back arching and her words slurring together to make the most beautiful music.

He could see it now; Mai's thighs wet as his fingers slid between her legs, rubbing at her clit while he bit and kissed at her shoulder, her hair tangled and smelling of jasmine and musk. She would moan was pleasure coursed through her, sparks of white-hot fire in her veins, and her hips would writhe, grinding her body back up against him, stroking his growing erection that he longed to...

"Fire Lord Zuko," came a loud voice, cutting straight into his thoughts. He looked up, seeing the face of the palace envoy standing near the threshold, waiting to be ushered in. Zuko waved at him, and he strolled in, standing next to the company that was gathered around him.

"What is it?" he asked the young envoy.

"News from the Western Province," the boy said, and held out a rolled up scroll for Zuko to grab. It was stamped with a noble seal, one that he was supposed to recognize, but didn't. Another part of the facade he wore; he wasn't completely sure what he was doing.

He was sometimes sure that he would fail.

But then his thoughts would drift back to Mai. He would think on her words, her encouragement. How she didn't have a single doubt within her mind that he would be a good Fire Lord, that he would lead this nation to prosperity, and restore the damage done unto it.

"Thanks," Zuko said, and waved him away.

Get lost, Zuko thought to himself, as the door closed behind the leaving figure. But he couldn't say it aloud, or even think it hard enough. He was in the presence of company; of regal and important company.

He had to maintain the facade.