"Zuko, calm down," Mai said, arms folded across her chest, watching her boyfriend pace back and forth the massive hallway. "As long as you don't do anything stupid in there, you'll be fine."

Zuko scoffed, shaking his head and continuing his trotting, not even sparing her a glance. "Of course you don't understand."

She frowned. "I do understand. My parents aren't exactly the loving type either."

The Fire Prince stopped dead in his tracks, then turned to his girlfriend with a spiteful glare.

He was composed as he spoke, but the underlying venom in his voice was unmistakable, "Well, at least your father doesn't burn half your face off for speaking out of turn, does he?"

Mai's face fell even further, and she looked away. Zuko continued piercing her with bitter eyes for a second, before huffing and picking up his pacing again.

They'd been bickering all day. And the day before that. And the weeks and months before that, too. They fought more and more often as time went on, especially as the day Zuko would be seeing his father for the first time since their Agni Kai drew nearer. Although this particular argument hadn't been too bad, their words against each other grew harsher and more vicious with each fight—and they were followed by long, sleepless nights, driven by guilt and shame for all that had been said.

He reached down to the belt of his armor and detached the metal flask of sake hanging from it. There was nothing good old alcohol couldn't fix. He'd learned that lesson well over the past two months since he'd started drinking.

"Yeah, just go ahead and drink your problems away," Mai grumbled from the wall she was leaning against.

Zuko gave her an irritated side glance but otherwise disregarded her remark, throwing his head back and taking a hearty gulp of his sake. The alcohol burned his mouth and throat, but he'd long since become used to the acrid sensation. He barely even winced anymore. And he wasn't worried about getting drunk on a mere flask of it either—his days of easy drunkenness were long past.

The giant Fire Nation insignia stood imposing on the crimson curtain that served as a door to the room that had changed his life forever, and everything he'd been losing sleep over these past months flooded his mind all at once. He had no idea what awaited him in that room. For all he knew, there could've been assassins in there, waiting to take him out the moment he set foot inside. Or maybe his father had really forgiven him, as Azula had said he would.

Zuko had been treated with the respect and luxury his title demanded ever since Ba Sing Se, and was given a hero's welcome at the welcoming ceremony yesterday, but what would they matter if his father didn't want him back? Zuko had let the Avatar slip away from his grasp multiple times—what if his father was still angry about that? What if Father was mad at him for becoming a refugee and living like a peasant, bringing only more shame and humiliation to the family's name?

Several minutes passed as the Prince continued marching up and down the corridor, sipping his sake again and again to ease his nerves, while his girlfriend watched from the side, shaking her head in disapproval. Then he heard the curtain of the war room billow open behind him. Murmurs of a hoard of men and their footfalls filled the uncomfortable stillness of the hallway.

Zuko turned around to find generals and noblemen of his father's high council exiting the room, quietly conversing with one another. The men walked up and bowed to him, to their crown prince. He stood around awkwardly for a moment, unsure of how to respond, before pulling himself together and squaring his chest, nodding in return as a sign of mutual respect—even though these were the same people that had stayed silent during his Agni Kai with his father.

Some of the men stayed around briefly to give him their congratulations for restoring his title and honor—all of them so theatrical and fake it made him sick to his stomach—while the others simply straightened from their bow and went on with their conversations.

"Looks like your dad's meeting's over," Mai said once they were all out of earshot, watching them walk away. She pushed herself off of the wall to come stand beside him, and opened her palm before her in a demanding manner. "I'll take that now."

Zuko blinked at her. "Hmm?"

"Your flask." She cocked a brow. "Or would you rather your father sees you with it?"

Oh. Right.

"Will you be waiting for me until I come back?" Zuko asked while handing the metal container over.

He already suspected what her answer would be, but he wanted to give it a shot nonetheless. Maybe, just maybe, she'd see how much he needed her support at this moment.

To his chagrin, however, Mai rolled her eyes. "We were on a ship for an entire week, Zuko. I'm not gonna stand here for Agni knows how long when I can go home and rest instead."

Suppressing a sigh, Zuko slumped his shoulders and uttered a meek, "Okay."

"Azula invited me and Ty for breakfast tomorrow. I'll see you there."

The Fire Prince softly nodded and leaned in to give his girlfriend a chaste goodbye kiss. With desperation seeping out of his lips, he silently begged for her to stay here, to be there for him when he needed her the most. But his silent plea fell on deaf ears. Mai just stood there passively until he drew back, not even returning his kiss, as had become their norm. When he did, she offered her typical not-a-smile, inclining her head, before wordlessly turning and treading down the long hallway, leaving him all alone to face his father.

A set of almost noiseless footsteps approached Zuko as he gazed helplessly after his girlfriend, taking him out of his brooding—so quiet he would've surely missed it had it not been for his years of stealth training. Normally, he would've exploded onto whoever it was that had dared disturb his thoughts, but right now, he was only grateful for the distraction.

When he turned around, a servant was bowing low before him.

"Prince Zuko, His Royal Majesty Fire Lord Ozai will see you now," the servant said without rising from his deep bow, then stepped aside to clear the way to the war room.

In the blink of an eye, everything going on with Mai evaporated from Zuko's mind, dread quickly filling in the newly created vacuum of thoughts. He swallowed the lump that began forming in his throat. There was no point in standing around here anymore—if Father wasn't mad at him now, he certainly would be if Zuko made him wait, and there was no saying what would happen then.

Fear eating at his insides, he started his way toward the door. He stopped, however, a few steps ahead of the curtain and stared at the golden insignia printed on it. Only after taking in a deep breath could he truly steel himself and neutralize his expression to face whatever fate had been decided for him.

Letting out a quivering breath, he pulled the heavy flaps of the curtain apart and stepped in.

The war room was exactly as he remembered it—a grandiose hall with rows upon rows of grand columns, an ornately carved, sky-high ceiling above him, and, of course, the Supreme Leader of the Fire Nation sitting on an elevated throne behind a wall of flames, his face cast in shadows, right at the mouth of a painting of a golden dragon behind him. His heart pounding in his ears, Zuko cast his eyes on the wooden floor as he walked toward the throne, though his chin was still lifted high—he couldn't afford to appear weak in front of his father.

Once he'd reached the appropriate distance from the raised dais the Fire Lord sat on, he stopped, got down on his knees, and bent down until his forehead nearly touched the ground, kowtowing before his sovereign.

"You've been away for a long time," came the gravelly voice he remembered so well from above him, the same voice that had frequented his nightmares for as long as he could remember. "I see the weight of your travels has changed you. You have redeemed yourself, my son."

My son. Those words, those two words were all Zuko had ever wanted to hear from his father. He'd dreamt of them, of this moment all his life, the moment Father would finally come to love him. Yet it wasn't happiness he felt in his heart—it was inexplicable resentment, toward whom or what, he didn't know.

Over the roaring of the firewall, he heard the shuffling of clothes and then the smothering of a small portion of the wall of flames. He sat upright in his place at the sounds of footsteps walking down the stairs before the throne. And when he looked up, the Lord of the Fire Nation was towering above him, his hands clasped behind, staring down at the young prince with golden eyes that mirrored his, not a trace of emotion on his sharp features.

"Welcome home."

Ozai then turned and began circling around his kneeling son, like a predator would its prey.

"I am proud of you, Prince Zuko. I am proud because you and your sister conquered Ba Sing Se. I am proud because when your loyalty was tested by your treacherous uncle, you did the right thing and captured the traitor."

At the barb at his uncle, Zuko's expression morphed into a glare and he side-eyed his father, keeping his head low, but the Fire Lord concluded his speech without notice, coming to a halt behind his son.

"And I am proudest of all of your most legendary accomplishments. You slayed the Avatar."

Zuko's flew wide open.

"What did you hear?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound as stunned as he felt.

"Azula told me everything. She said she was amazed and impressed at your power and ferocity at the moment of truth."

Before he could contemplate his sister's reasoning for lying about this, Ozai continued talking from behind him, his tone becoming icy as he went on.

"Though there was one other thing she said that I could not quite wrap my head around. She told me the Avatar's waterbending master was captured as well that night—yet you cut her interrogation short. You almost single-handedly end the Avatar, but lose your nerve over some enemy peasant?"

Zuko could feel his father's scrutinizing eyes sear the back of his head. He cursed himself for not learning how to lie before, and hated himself even more for thinking of the Water Tribe girl this way, but he had no other choice.

"She's in your harem, sir," he explained, more timidly than he would've preferred. "The men that were interrogating her aren't allowed to look, much less be left alone in a room with her."

When the Fire Lord didn't respond, when this didn't seem enough of a reason to intervene in harem business, Zuko squeezed his eyes shut and forced out his next words, "...And I thought you might want her in the best condition."

In the brief silence that followed, he felt his father's glare soften.

"You've thought well, my son," Ozai finally said, a little proudly even, then began walking again toward his throne.

Zuko discreetly gazed down at his right hand, at the three slightly faded lines of red, scarred tissue marking across his palm—relics of that horrid night in Ba Sing Se he'd helped the Water Tribe girl, forever ingrained into his skin. Ever since then, he'd done all he could to keep himself from thinking about her, hidden her mother's necklace somewhere no one would think to search and avoided looking at the scars on his hand at all costs.

All of his efforts had been to little avail, of course—she'd always found a way to slip into his nightmares and torment him throughout the day alike—but now, with the reminder of where she'd been taken to, he couldn't help but wonder about her, or more specifically, what would come of her now that she'd been brought to the Fire Nation on Zuko and Azula's ship.

Closing his fist, he stared up at his father walking back up the stairs. And as curiosity took over him, he let the question he'd been suppressing in his mind blossom into the material world, wording it so that it didn't seem suspicious and dreading its answer.

"Will you be enjoying your gift, Father?"

The wall of flames parted for its master as the Fire Lord passed through to get to his throne, his back turned to the Prince.

"I will not taint myself with that filth," he replied at last, sitting down on the crimson cushion and turning to his son.

Zuko prayed to Agni the relief he felt washing over him didn't reflect on his face. He swallowed down the grateful sigh that threatened to break free.

Unaware of his son's relief, the Fire Lord gave him a cold look. "Did you need something else, Prince Zuko?"

Zuko ducked his head, recognizing the dismissal. "No, sir."

Keeping his eyes down, he politely got to his feet, bowed from the waist, and backed away, already resolved to go and find his sister, find out why she'd done this—why she'd lied to Father and given him the credit for killing the Avatar.

-o-

"Will that be all, Your Highness?"

"Yes." Azula waved her hand dismissively. "You may leave."

The maids that had readied the Fire Princess for bed and given her head and hand massages, curtsied before walking backward out of the door, leaving the Princess alone. Azula rubbed her hands together to get the moisturizing lotion to absorb fully into her skin. She got up from her seat at the beauty corner of her bedchambers and crossed the gigantic room to get to her bed.

Slipping under the silk sheets draped over the enormous mattress, she rested her head on her soft pillow, closing her eyes, and began waiting for her brother. As soon as his audience with their father was over, Zuko would be coming here, questioning her about why she would've lied to Dad about the Avatar—and she wouldn't be caught off guard when that komodo-buffoon showed up.

She didn't have to wait for too long, as a pair of grouchy footsteps soon thundered outside her room, too aggressive to be belonging to any guard or servant.

Ah, little Zuzu… As predictable as ever… It was honestly a wonder he'd managed to make it this far in life.

The footsteps rose steadily in volume until her door swung open and the light of the hallway gushed into her room. A silhouette stood in the doorway.

"Why'd you do it?"

Azula smiled with her eyes still shut. "You're going to have to be a little more specific."

Zuko stomped over to the middle of the room, stopping before the short set of stairs leading to her bed. "Why did you tell Father that I was the one who killed the Avatar?"

"Can't this wait until morning?"

"It. Can't."

Sighing, Azula opened her eyes. "Fine." She sat up in her bed and turned to her brother. "You seemed so worried about how Father would treat you because you hadn't captured the Avatar. I figured if I gave you the credit, you'd have nothing to worry about."

"But why?"

"Call it a generous gesture." She answered got out of her bed and began walking toward the door. "I wanted to thank you for your help and I was happy to share the glory."

"You're lying."

Azula shrugged as she walked past him. "If you say so…"

"You have another motive for doing this," he said, turning so that he could face her, "I just haven't figured out what it is."

The Princess stopped with her back to her brother, then stretched her arms above her and turned around, an innocent expression plastered onto her features. "Please, Zuko, what ulterior motive could I have? What could I possibly gain by letting you get all the glory for defeating the Avatar?"

Zuko narrowed his eyes. "Then why tell him I stopped the Water Tribe girl's torture if you mean well?"

Azula sighed again as she passed by him on her way back to her bed. "Did you forget how many prickle-snakes roam these halls, brother? You need to be able to lie on the spot to survive here." She sat down on the soft mattress, turning to him. "I was just giving you a quick trial."

"Your 'quick trial' could've gotten me killed!"

"But it didn't, so stop crying about it." She let out a heavy breath to indicate she'd be going to sleep now, then calmly laid down on her bed once more, getting underneath the sheets, and closed her eyes with a smile on her lips. "Sleep well, Zuzu."

With a scoff, Zuko whipped around. His furious footsteps thundered in the room as he stomped back out of her bedchambers.

But as he neared the door, the severity of his stomps softened, becoming inaudible almost. Then, right by the door, with his back turned to her, he stopped entirely.

"He called me his son," he said quietly.

Azula's eyes slowly peeled open, her smile waning. There'd been a few occasions in the past where he'd opened up to her—but ever since Mom's death, he'd built a wall around himself, never letting anyone in. She wanted to know what he was feeling, mostly because there could be something in there she could use for leverage against him later, but also because she did kind of care about him, though she would never admit to this, not even if someone held a knife to her throat.

So she stayed quiet.

Silence grew between the siblings as neither uttered a word.

Then, after a long second, Zuko exhaled a shaky breath. And when he spoke again, his voice wavered.

"He said he was proud of me and called me his son."

With that, he left the room, closing the door behind him.

And just like that, Azula lost all sympathy toward him.

Even if their father didn't know Azula had shot the Avatar, he knew the truth about who conquered Ba Sing Se, something neither he nor the Dragon of the West had succeeded in. And what had she gotten for achieving that? A couple lines on a letter from him congratulating her, which had just continued on to list her responsibilities to ensure the conquest's safety. That was it. That was all she'd gotten for doing the impossible. But now he'd gone and given Zuko—the weakest chain in the family, a disgrace in every aspect of the word—the honor of his affection simply because he thought that wimp was the one that had killed the Avatar?!

Azula bunched the silk of her sheets in her fist, her breathing getting out of control just like her temper.

The main reason she'd lied about who had killed the Avatar was so that their father would accept Zuko back without making a fuss, but he wasn't actually supposed to be proud of that dimwit!

Azula had worked all her life to earn Dad's praise, done everything he'd ever asked of her without question. She was his one and only child he could ever be proud of, could ever love.

She deserved his admiration, not Zuko. She was the prodigy. She was the mastermind behind Ba Sing Se's conquest. She had ended the Avatar cycle. She was the one that was there for him when he felt alone, that warmed his bed at night. How dare he be proud of Zuko after all she'd done for him!

She hadn't shed all that blood, sweat and tears while training to be where she was at today, hadn't suffered through all that pain in the days following the nights with her father just for him to pick Zuko over her. She'd done everything to please him, let him do all he wanted with her—going so far as letting him whip her, with actual and fire whips alike—just because she knew how much he loved her and enjoyed her screaming his name in bed, out of pleasure or otherwise.

And what had Zuko done for him? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Everything Dad found so special in him was her work.

Azula felt tears of fury gather at the edge of her eyes.

She pressed her face into her pillow. She wouldn't let herself cry over this. But as these thoughts kept whirling in her mind like a mad typhoon, her tears trickled down her eyes nevertheless, wetting her pillow.

How could Dad do this to her? How could he betray her like this?

A/N

Heyy, I just created a Tumblr account (you can find it at 'siambre')! I mainly post ATLA and Zutara memes. It's fun stuff.

Thank you all for reading (and special thanks to those that left kudos and comments), and I'll see you next time!