If there was anything today had shown, it was that Zuko had become a lesser man than he'd been before his banishment. He'd become a coward.

He'd been sitting here in this war meeting since a little after dawn, going along with the atrocities his father's high council was planning. Seated beside him atop the raised dais, his father and sister were also listening to the council and occasionally offering up an idea that was somehow even more inhumane than the last one.

He'd mostly stopped listening after his father had declared he'd be burning the entirety of the Earth Kingdom to the ground, as though the millions of lives they'd be taking were nothing more than just statistics. He simply couldn't stomach any more of it. And yet, he didn't speak up against the plans either, afraid that this meeting would end up with him in the Agni Kai Arena just like the last one. Coward.

As the meeting dragged out from morning till late into the night, he felt his energy waning along with his firebending. His chest armor felt a hundred times heavier than its actual weight, pressing down on his shoulders like it was trying to sink him underground. So he was relieved when the meeting was finally declared over, and politely declined the generals and noblemen that wanted a word with him, alleging he was tired and needed to excuse himself. And he was—it'd been a long day—but more than that, he needed time to process everything he'd just witnessed.

His eyes were fixed on the floor and his lips were sloped downward in a scowl as he walked down the hallway, passing by Mai, who was leaning on the wall waiting for him.

"So, how did it go?" she asked, stepping in line with him.

"When I got to the meeting, everyone welcomed me," he said softly, without slowing down or looking up. "My father had saved me a seat. He wanted me next to him. I was literally at his right hand."

"Zuko, that's wonderful! You must be happy."

He wished he was, but he knew he'd never quite achieve happiness. Moments of joy, maybe, but true happiness was a castle in the air for him—too good to be true, always one step out of his reach. But he couldn't complain. Cowards didn't deserve happiness.

The two teenagers stopped at the intersection of two hallways and stared up at the official painting of the Fire Lord looming over them, somehow appearing to be more daunting than in person.

"During the meeting, I was the perfect prince. The son my father wanted." Zuko looked down and closed his eyes. "But I wasn't me."

After a beat, he felt his girlfriend put a hand on the back of his chest armor. "Come, let's go back to mine. This place is miserable."

A little more than ten minutes and a quiet palanquin ride later, they were back at her house, in her bedroom. Zuko had taken off his armor the moment he'd stepped into the room, and Mai had taken out all of her throwing knives hidden inside her sleeves and boots and set them down on the nightstand beside her bed, right next to the bottle of sake and two small ceramic cups atop the cabinet.

They'd discovered, during their time together, a good old roll in the hay to be a solid remedy for stress. So they figured it'd be the perfect way to end the horrible day Zuko had had today… except Mai was drier than the Si Wong Desert, and Zuko was… Well…

"I'm sorry," he rasped meekly as he put his pants back on after minutes of trying to get hard without success and leaving his girlfriend unsatisfied. He hoped the flush of shame and embarrassment he felt creeping onto his cheeks wasn't visible to her in the dim candlelight.

Mai sighed, changing into her nightdress in front of him. "You don't need to apologize every time."

Zuko tied the straps that held his pants together, then flopped onto the bed and buried his face in his hands.

He didn't know what he'd done to anger the spirits so much, but he was certain Agni himself had cursed him. That was the only explanation for his utter wreck of a life.

What really drove the final nail in the coffin, though—even more than the unimaginable humility of not being able to stay hard, if he could get it up at all—was that no matter what he'd done, he'd never gotten his girlfriend to climax. Not once. Not even in their best of days. He'd never gotten her to moan his name like he'd overheard the crew of his ship boast about. He'd tried all the methods he'd read in the romance scrolls he'd found in the palace library—with his mouth, fingers, and whatnot—but nothing had worked. There had also been a few times where he'd seen her roll her eyes while he was doing his best to pleasure her, but he didn't want to think about them.

And with each passing day, something shifted between them, drove them further apart little by little. Now, every other one of their conversations ended in a fight, and she rarely ever got wet enough for him to be with her without hurting her. He was as much a disappointment in bed as he was in every other aspect of his life.

Zuko heard her quiet footsteps approach the bed. They stopped near where the nightstand was. First, a bottle being picked up reached his ears, then the warble of the liquid inside being poured.

"Could you pour me a glass, too?" he asked his girlfriend, draping a forearm over his eyes.

"No."

Blinking, he hoisted himself up onto his elbows and stared at her. "What do you mean 'No'?"

"Want me to pull up a dictionary for you?"

Zuko sent her a cross scowl—to which she paid no heed and proceeded to down her cup of sake in one go.

"Your drinking is getting out of hand," she told him casually when she was done, setting down the ceramic cup. "Someone needs to keep you in check."

Zuko's scowl morphed into a glower. "I have everything under control."

"Really." She turned to him and looked him dead in the eyes. "Is that why you wake up with a hangover every day?"

Zuko sat upright on the bed, his features slowly twisting into a glare. "I'm doing perfectly fine. Just give me the damn drink."

"No."

Huffing, Zuko shot up to his feet and stomped over to the nightstand. If Mai wouldn't give him what he wanted, he would get it himself.

But before he could, she stepped in his way, guarding the nightstand with her body.

"Mai, step aside," he ordered.

"No." The fierce glow of defiance and stubbornness shone in her grey eyes.

Zuko took a step toward her and glared down at her. "Get out of my way."

She lifted her chin. "You need to find better ways to cope with your problems. Downing half a bottle of sake every time things don't go well for you isn't the way."

Zuko felt his anger spike seemingly out of nowhere.

"Oh, it isn't?! You don't listen when I try to talk to you, and when you do actually listen for once, you write off everything I say! What the fuck do you want me to do?!"

Mai seemed impassive as always, but her narrowed eyes betrayed the irritation that lurked underneath her stoic features. "I do listen to you."

Zuko scoffed. "Telling me not to worry about my problems isn't exactly listening."

"Well, I'm sorry I can't be your therapist."

Zuko growled deep in his throat. "I don't want you to be my therapist! I just want you to be there for me when I need you!"

Mai glowered at him from under her lashes. "I was there for you today. I didn't wait out there for Agni knows how long for nothing."

"Yeah, because I asked you to! That's the fucking problem!"

Mai stayed silent, crossing her arms and fixing her gaze on the window on the wall. Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose and paced back and forth in the room to calm himself. The bottle of sake that had started this fight stood idly in the back, entirely forgotten.

Then Zuko whipped around to his girlfriend, breathing heavily through his nose. "Why would you even kiss me in the first place if you didn't care about me."

"Of course I care about you."

"How about you act like it, then! I mean…" He panted, struggling to find the right words. "We've been dating for two months, Mai. Two fucking months, and we never once held hands! Is that something normal couples do?!"

Mai made a show of rolling her eyes and muttered under her breath, "Here we go again." She then sighed and met his glare. "What do you want from me? If you want a touchy-feely girlfriend, go date Ty Lee. I'm sure she'll be more than happy to babysit you all day."

Zuko's fists clenched so tightly his nails nearly tore into his skin. "What."

"Isn't that what you want? For someone to pat you on the back and call you a good boy every time you do something?" She charged at him and got into his face, her anger finally coming forth. "Well, guess what, the world doesn't work that way. So grow up!"

Zuko felt his breath get stuck in his throat as if her words had literally knocked the wind out of him. Pain flared in his eyes for a split second, before they hardened into stone.

"You think everyone has a happy childhood like you, don't you?" he seethed. "Your parents gave you everything you wanted in exchange for you to stay quiet. But me? Do you have any fucking idea of the things I've been through?!" He took a step toward her, getting so close that he could feel her rapid breaths on his skin. "Fuck you."

Mai snorted derisively, a little spitefully even. "I wish you could fuck me. Maybe I'd actually enjoy it for once."

Smoke rose from Zuko's fists. Low blow.

"If you didn't lay there like a sack of potatoes all night, I could! But that's all you ever do—you just lay there and sigh and whine and bitch about everything all day. You have no passion, no heart, no soul, no nothing. You are nothing. You're just a big blah!"

Mai simmered before him, but didn't respond. She only glared back at him, her eyes cold and sharp like her daggers—his, livid with unfiltered rage. But if she was trying to seem intimidating, she was failing at it. Her breathing was getting heavier and it looked like she was on the verge of tears.

Exhaling heavily, Mai closed her eyes and turned away. "You're wrong," she said at last. "I do have a heart. But now I see you don't deserve a place in it." She wrapped her arms around herself. "Get out of my house. We're done."

"Good," Zuko spat. "I didn't wanna see your face again anyway."

Mai's furious eyes snapped to his. She snarled through gritted teeth, "Get. Out."

Zuko huffed in her face, then whipped around and stormed out of the room, his jaw clenched tight and nostrils flaring. The heat emanating from his body was so severe, if someone were to put a block of ice anywhere near him, he'd melt it in seconds. As he stomped toward the doors, they opened for him, hauled open by the servants on the other side. Without so much as glancing at them, he marched through the living room, then down the stairs and out the main door of the house. He was about to race down another flight of stairs outside when the voice of a servant stopped him.

"Will Your Highness be taking the palanqui—"

Zuko let out an infuriated roar and punched a ball of fire at the palanquin. The carriage instantly went up in flames and the palanquin bearers gathered around it jumped back at the sudden attack.

"There!" Zuko yelled at the servant trembling in terror. "Have fun with your palanquin!"

He continued on to sprint down the stairs and toward the palace across the desolate street. The palace guards rushed to open the gigantic gates of the palace for him, more erratically than usual. Similarly, all the maids, servants and guards unfortunate enough to come across him within the halls of the palace immediately stepped aside and kept their heads low and mouths shut to spare themselves from the wrath of their crown prince fuming through the hallways.

The moment he arrived at his bed chambers, Zuko slammed the doors behind him and made for the alcohol cabinet near his bed. Grabbing the closest bottle to him, he pressed the mouth of the ceramic bottle against his lips and downed a hefty amount of sake at once, then grimaced when the alcohol singed his throat. But he didn't mind the trouble. This was the exact reason he'd taken a liking to drinking in the first place—to be distracted by the horrible taste and sensations it left on his tongue and throat, and keep his mother, uncle, the Water Tribe girl and all of the problems he'd been having with Mai out of his mind. So what if it tasted foul? Alcohol was the only thing in this world that eased his nerves, and Zuko was forever grateful for it.

So, he wiped the excess sake dripping from his chin with the back of his hand, chugged another big gulp, then rammed the bottle onto the cabinet so hard, the ceramic shattered on impact. The liquid inside splashed all over his hand and robes, and the broken pieces of the ceramic splattered everywhere.

It took everything in Zuko not to burn down the palace at that very second.

He buried his head in his hands and folded in half to yell out all the curses in his lexicon at the top of his lungs. Then he straightened and began marching up and down the vacant spaces of his room, panting with fury. He reached up to the base of his hair that was pulled into a top-knot, yanked out his headpiece, then hurled the delicate ornament to the floor with full strength, and tangled his fingers in his shaggy hair.

Never had a piece of broken ceramic depicted Zuko's life so perfectly. He'd always ruined everything he'd touched—his mother's life, his uncle's life, the Water Tribe girl's life, his own life. It'd been a mistake to assume his relationship with Mai would turn out any different. Father had been right all those times he'd called Zuko incompetent and a failure—a waste of air and space, a disgrace to the royal bloodline, a living mistake.

Zuko wobbled over to his bed, shaking with rage, and collapsed onto the mattress. He just lied there, staring up at the canopy above, while his breathing and heart rate returned to normal. Closing his eyes, he gulped and let out a deep breath—a breath laden with frustration and guilt and shame and countless other emotions he couldn't name.

Regret filled the void in his heart left by receding anger. He replayed his fight with Mai behind his closed eyelids, and winced at every word that had come out of his mouth. He'd been too harsh with her, calling her heartless and all, just because she hadn't let him drink.

They'd fought and broken up plenty of times before, but this time had felt different. It'd felt final.

Zuko had ruined everything again. He'd driven off one of the only people that had held him dear. Again.

He lost track of time as he laid there mulling over everything that had gone wrong with Mai, round and round in his mind. Despite the late hour of the night, he was wide awake, and before he knew it, the warmth of the sun had started trickling in his veins. The shimmering sun poured into his room through the window by his bed soon after, and he was left without sleep once more.

-o-

In the days following his break up, it had become increasingly difficult to tell the Fire Prince apart from a specter with blood-shot eyes and a deathly pale face that roamed the halls of the palace. He wouldn't speak unless he absolutely had to, wouldn't look anyone in the eye, wouldn't eat more than a couple of bites out of his food, and he never would've gotten out of his bed every morning if it weren't for the servants banging on his doors.

But though suffering in the loneliness he'd only felt once before—after he'd parted ways his uncle in the Earth Kingdom—didn't get easier, the first morning had been the worst by far, if only for Azula and her theatrics.

"Again?" she'd asked in a mocking tone, one brow raised, when she'd inquired why Mai and Ty Lee had refused to show up for breakfast and he'd begrudgingly confessed.

She'd jeered at him for being incapable of maintaining a relationship for more than two seconds with the only girl that'd ever stomached looking at him. But then she'd given up after a few minutes when he'd had no reaction whatsoever to her jabs. He'd simply continued to play with his food in complete silence rather than blowing up like he typically would.

Yet, remarkably, Zuko still hadn't deterred from his daily routine of having breakfast with his sister, enduring a full day of private lessons on politics, military strategy, history, economics, and law taught by cranky old men, then locking himself up in his bedchambers to sulk all night and drink himself to sleep—just to wake up to a horrible hangover and repeat everything all over again. He'd get his much-needed sleep during the couple of hours reserved for his daily firebending training and lunch.

Now, shortly before dusk, he was walking back to his chambers from his last lesson of the day. The guards standing by the feet of the doors to his bedroom bowed to him. He bypassed them and locked the doors behind himself without paying attention. Once he was in, he nearly shred his robes apart until he was left in his nightshirt and pants that he wore underneath his daily clothes. Normally, he would've taken off his shirt as well, but there were too many people in the palace that could barge into his room, even if he'd locked the doors. Too many scars from childhood smeared his skin—he'd rather nobody saw them.

He picked up a bottle from the alcohol cabinet on his way to his bed, took a sip from his drink, and he sat on the edge of the mattress—his back propped up against the bedpost, head tilted back, eyes closed, and one leg stretched over the bed, the other dangling freely from the side. By the time the sun had set and the moon was riding high in the sky, the bottle in his hand was half empty, and he could feel drunkenness setting in.

He was still sitting in the same position on his bed, brooding over Mai and how much he must've broken her heart, when someone knocked on the door. He ignored it, hoping whoever it was would assume he was sleeping and go away. Exactly 30 seconds later, another knock came.

Heaving a sigh, he opened his eyes.

"What?" he asked, raising his voice to be heard from across the room.

From behind the doors came the gruff voice of one of his guards, "Forgive me for disturbing, sir, but Princess Azula has sent Your Highness a present."

Zuko's brows creased. "Why?"

"I do not know, sir."

Sighing once more, Zuko squeezed the bridge of his nose. "Fine. Just… leave it by the doors." He knew his guards had the keys to all of his chambers in case of an emergency.

As the doors unlocked and opened, he closed his eyes again. But then they shot open when he heard a pair of footsteps enter his room and the doors close behind it. Before the footsteps exited first. And he hadn't heard any gift being placed on the floor either.

He whipped his head to see a slender young woman standing before the doors, her head bowed low and hands clasped before her. But he'd moved too abruptly for the alcohol in his bloodstream, and had to wait for a moment or two for his dizziness to pass before he blurted out, "Who're you?"

Subtlety had never been his strong suit, and frankly, he didn't care. Azula had sent this woman—the same Azula who had, on multiple occasions, tried to murder him. Breaking up with her best friend could've very well been another reason for her to want him dead. Though, this woman didn't seem to be carrying any weapons on her—the scarlet robe she wore hung too tightly to her curves and left too little to the imagination to sport a hiding place for even the smallest of knives.

"I am Shila of House Yao, Your Highness," the woman said, curtsying. "I am a humble servant in your esteemed harem."

Zuko looked her up and down. Of course he was aware he had a harem, but this was the first time he'd actually seen someone in it. He'd been too obsessed with politics to pay attention to girls when he'd been given his harem on his thirteenth birthday as palace tradition demanded. Still, he'd heard many rumors of the girls in the Royal Harem throughout his banishment—most of them centering around their unearthly beauty unmatched by any other, and their prowess in bed that could make any man finish within seconds.

Zuko quickly shook himself out of these thoughts. He'd just broken up with Mai not even a week ago—he couldn't be ogling at other women. Especially not this particular one that could've been an assassin sent to eliminate him.

"What're you doing here?" he demanded, sitting up straight and putting more authority into his voice.

"Princess Azula has asked me to extend her condolences regarding your relationship with Lady Mai, Your Highness. Her Highness said she was deeply saddened to see you in such despair."

Yeah, he was sure his adoring little sister would be sad to see him like this.

"Give her my thanks," he said, eyeing the woman carefully—well, as carefully as he could while the world spun and his head spun with it, anyway.

There were two ways this could go—the woman could either leave like he'd ordered, or she could stay and prove her true intentions as Azula's not-so-invisible hand. At least she was all the way across his bedroom—Zuko would be able to see any attack coming from a mile away, and defend himself in his intoxicated state. Hopefully.

For a moment, it seemed like she was going to take the latter route, as she defied his direct order and lingered in her place, her head still bowed respectively. But then, defying all palace protocol, she lifted her head and looked him right in the eyes, so unlike the submissive maiden she'd been a second ago and headstrong.

"Her Highness has also asked me to comfort you. Your Highness," she added as if it were an afterthought.

This, Zuko hadn't been expecting. Though he should've seen it coming—she was from his harem, after all. But this could be a ploy for her to get close enough to strangle him, too.

He opened his mouth to dismiss her, but the words died on his tongue the moment her lean fingers came up to the sash wrapped around her waist and pulled one end of it. Her crimson robe slipped open at the chest, offering him a glimpse of the porcelain skin that laid underneath, then she slid the silky fabric from her shoulders and let it flutter to the floor in a pile of ruby-red at her feet, leaving her completely nude before his eyes.

Zuko's mouth turned dry and he felt his head partially clear up at the sight.

His heart began thumping in his chest, the possibility that she might've been here to assassinate him thrown out the window. He drank in her perfect breasts and the valley between her legs, gawking like an idiot, before coming back to his senses. He cleared his throat and fixed his eyes on his bedsheets.

"I have a girlfriend," he rasped. His voice was hoarser than usual.

"Do you?"

"Excuse me?!" Zuko snapped his head toward her, remembering one second too late that she was very much naked, and immediately looked away again.

He felt blood rush to his cheeks and down his neck, as well as his other, more southern regions. And he was having no trouble with it either, despite the issues he'd had with it during his time with Mai or all the alcohol he'd consumed tonight.

The woman's quiet footsteps sounded as she stepped out of the pile of her robe around her ankles and began a leisurely walk toward him, taking her time. "I asked if you really have a girlfriend, or do you just like to think that you have one. What do you think you'd be doing right now if you did have a girlfriend, anyway? Let me answer that for you—fighting, as you always did."

Zuko ground his teeth, yet he still couldn't bring himself to look at her, too scared that he might do something he'd regret in the morning if he did.

"How dare you speak to me like this. I'm your prince!" Although his tone held the power his title demanded, his face being the same shade of red as his bedsheets automatically undermined his authority, and the fact that he shied away from her intense gaze didn't help.

"You are…" the woman said, almost at the stairs that led up to his bed now. "But I've heard many things about you, and none of them paint you as the type that would punish someone for misspeaking. You didn't punish Mai for breaking up with you. You won't hurt me either. It's not who you are."

Zuko's hands formed fists where he'd placed them on the sheets, bunching the silk material in his grip. She was right—he never would hurt an innocent—but he didn't like it when people bragged about being right—it reminded him too much of his sister.

"You know nothing about me," he grumbled. "And stay out of my life. It's none of your business."

"Oh, but I'm afraid it is. Because, you see," she began walking up the stairs, "my father didn't gift me to your harem just so you can be with other women. You're mine, and I'm yours. That's our fate."

Succumbing to the filthy images plaguing his mind, Zuko glanced up at her. The moment his eyes left the spot on the sheets they'd sought refuge in, they locked on the smooth, round breasts that bounced with each stair their owner climbed. He swallowed thickly. His eyes remained on her, taking her in in all her glory before he tore them away to look up at her face. Her sneer was shining through the curtains her chestnut hair had draped over her face, clearly aware of the rousing effect she had on him.

She trod over to him, now on the same plane as his bed—and with her every step, Zuko inched closer to her, pushing himself off of the bedpost and planting his feet on the ground to face her fully. His breath hitched when she finally reached him.

"Don't worry, I don't bite," she purred, putting her hands on his shoulders and settling her knees on either side of his thighs to straddle him. "Unless you want me to, of course."

With her sitting right on top of his now-tended pants and her breasts brushing against his shirt, Zuko was a hair's breadth away from losing control. His fingers clawed at the sheets. One part of him that wanted to reach for her, to enact on his fantasies—but the other, more reasoning part evoked images of Mai, reminded him of how much more he'd be breaking her heart if he got together with someone else so soon.

But the logical side of his mind shut off when the woman inclined her head and planted an open-mouthed kiss on the crook of his neck.

"Let her go, Zuko," she whispered into his skin, then licked up the column of his neck. It was all Zuko could do to not melt into a puddle of pleasure right then and there. She played with the lobe of his unscarred ear with her tongue, and breathed against the sensitive skin, "Let yourself go."

Zuko tried to resist his desires. He really did. But he was a teenage boy in the prime of his adolescence, and there was a beautiful, naked woman sitting on his lap, licking him like that, that wanted him to touch her.

In the blink of an eye, his hands flew up to grab her waist, then he spun her around so that he was on top of her, and slammed her onto the bed. She gasped at the sudden show of force, but didn't get to react any more before Zuko crashed his lips to hers, fervent and hungry.

And he did just as she'd asked—he let his pent-up aggression and guilt tear through him, channeling it all into her, wave after wave until he'd collapsed onto the bed beside her in late hours of the night, spent. Whether he regretted this or not, he didn't know yet—he only knew that he'd slept just a little bit better than the previous night, and that was something he could always appreciate.

A/N

Welp, not only have we gone 8 chapters without Zutara, now I go and give Zuko another romantic interest. But don't worry, the Zutara parts are coming very soon.

I'm aware that the pacing is really slow. I don't mean it to be, obviously, and I try to keep this set-up stuff short, but I always end up writing so much more than I originally intended. The thing is, the Zuko/Shila stuff is necessary for the story to move forward. Plus, the plot's gotta plot, ya know? I hope you'll forgive me once you see the full scope of how she and their 'romance' ties into the story, and I hope you'll keep reading :)

Re Mai, I tried my best not to antagonize her because, even though I don't particularly like her and Zuko as a couple, I do like her as a character, and I wanted to do her justice.