Chapter 40

Zuko strolled downstairs after waking up, yawning as he went. Izara wasn't in her room; the door was open, and she wasn't in the bathroom either. He guessed she'd already gotten up, so he came down to check on her. One of the shoji doors was open, and Izara was hanging wet clothes on the small line outside. A bucket of soapy water and a washboard were on the ground next to the line, and he guessed she'd been out there for a while. Sighing, he slid on some shoes and headed out to join her.

"You know I brought you here to relax and heal, right? Not do laundry." He said loudly to alert her to his presence, even though she'd likely heard his footsteps.

"Well, I'm basically out of clean clothes. I don't own much." She offered with a shrug, pegging a pair of pants up.

There were only a few pieces of clothing were on the line, and Zuko sadly assumed she'd not had a chance to buy some new casual clothes since the attack.

He recognised the pair of pants as his own, then saw that she was hanging up his shirt. "Wait, you did mine, too?"

"Yeah. I wasn't just going to do mine and not yours. Are you embarrassed that I've seen your unmentionables?" She teased him with a smirk over her shoulder. A moment later, she winced in slight discomfort.

"You haven't even given yourself a chance to heal properly." He scolded softly, worrying about her.

"I'm fine, really. I can't just do nothing." Izara pegged the last shirt up and then turned to face him.

"Even if I ask you to?" Zuko allowed his tone to become a little more forceful. She wasn't listening to him.

She raised an eyebrow at him in response but didn't say anything. Her silence was enough of an answer anyway.

"Your uncle, Uzan. Did he ever give you a day off?" Although he didn't want to mention her uncle, he knew this would likely hit home with her.

Her answering scoff said everything, and she turned her back to him, crossing her arms over her chest.

He growled in answer to her affirmation, but made a mental note to ensure Uzan retired very soon. "And before you were with him?"

She whirled to face him, narrowed her eyes almost imperceptibly, but schooled her expression a moment later. It didn't matter. He knew her well enough to notice those slight changes on her face and figure out how she felt. Her mouth was usually the giveaway, and it was downturned in frustration.

"Ah, yes. Remind me to punch Kazan in the nose for that. I had fully intended to leave all that behind—the moniker, the skillset, the blood—all of it." Izara said slowly, hinting at menace, as she moved to lean against the clothesline pole.

"We aren't much different." Zuko knew he'd hit a nerve but felt it was necessary, so he wanted to remind her that they shared common ground.

"Is that right?" She asked sarcastically.

"I hunted the Avatar. The fucking Avatar. Intending to capture him once I found him. I had plenty of ideas about what would happen to him after." He felt his temper bubbling inside him, but his stranglehold on it was loosening.

Izara took a breath, staring. Her golden eyes bore into his as her face fell into the blank mask he'd seen when she had reported to him and his council about what had happened during her capture. It was a definite attempt to intimidate him, but it wouldn't work. It felt like she was just throwing his attempts to relate to her back in his face. Stalking towards him as she lowered her arms, he stood his ground.

"I spied. I ambushed. I sabotaged. I slit throats. I killed. Murdered." She corrected herself. "We are not the same." Her voice was dark and erred towards threatening.

Zuko frowned at her. He'd done his fair share of grievous bodily harm. "That doesn't mean you don't deserve a chance to rest. That you need to punish yourself for the rest of your life."

Her gaze intensified. "Then what should I do? You are the epitome of redemption, after all. You tell me." Her voice was full of barely restrained outrage.

Zuko knew her anger wasn't directed at him, but it still stung. He would accept it, though. Getting through her forgive herself wouldn't be easy. He'd been ready to allow himself to let lightning strike him in the depths of his fury, and despair. Even after he'd become friends with Aang and helped to stop his father and Azula, it still took them many years to work through the turbulence and chaos they'd experienced. They'd spent a lot of time talking things out, and Aang had forgiven him and accepted him so readily. Instead of biting back in anger, he wouldn't rise to it.

"You should rest. Just stop for a minute and let the world continue while you rest." His voice was soft and gentle.

"And that will right all my wrongs? Make up for all the blood I've spilled?" Her sardonic tone pushed his buttons, but he knew she was truly angry with herself.

"Forgiveness is earned. You are working hard towards making a better future. Every bit of yourself that you've sacrificed has worked towards that. Drinking poison, letting yourself get captured and tortured. We've both got the scars to prove it." He was intent on showing her how much good she was doing and that it mattered.

"You know I manipulated you, right? Made you react exactly how I wanted to ensure I would be a target for capture." Her eyes narrowed at him sharply.

Zuko held her gaze. Now, this was becoming personal. He listened as she continued on her tirade and walked closer, her hips swaying rhythmically.

"I manipulated you so you would be concerned and worried. Enough for a supremacist to notice and assume I was important. I played you like a tsungi horn." She stood just before him, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes.

"Is that what it was when you kissed me back? You manipulating me?" His temper flared.

"It worked, didn't it?" She chewed her bottom lip seductively, dragging a finger across his chest.

Behind the swagger in her body language, he could see the deep wells of loneliness in her eyes. She couldn't hide it, maybe from most people, but not from him. He could recognise it all too well from his reflection, and his anger waned upon noticing it. Izara was trying to push him away, just like she had before. She didn't think that she deserved happiness at all. With anyone.

If only he could somehow show her what she looked like from his perspective. The kind and curious spirit that had been dampened by years of blood and darkness. She wasn't a bad person; she was just someone else that war had made jaded and hardened. He'd hoped that he'd delved into who she was behind her walls and softened her exterior, and this reaction told him that he had been successful. She was trying to turn him against her because she didn't think she deserved it.

Zuko suddenly understood his uncle Iroh more than ever. He had loved him unconditionally, despite all the angst and frustration Zuko threw at him, and welcomed him with open arms regardless of what he'd done. Iroh had encouraged him until he chose the right path for himself, and continued to support him in everything. He wouldn't rise to Izara's provocations.

So he stepped closer, closing the gap between them. Their chests brushed against each other, close enough to feel the body heat radiating. She didn't move away, rising to his silent challenge.

"Izara. You can't fool me." His brow furrowed together in sadness for her.

Her eyes widened, and she flinched ever so slightly as if his words had a physical effect. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him again, trying to appear unaffected.

"I know you. This is not who you are." He let his voice lower, slow and smooth.

"I think I would know who I am." She was still trying to fight it.

"This is who you show to people. It's only a mask." Zuko pressed, and she shrunk backward.

He took another step, not allowing her to back away from him.

"You don't need to hide yourself anymore. You are not the terrible person you see yourself as. You are good and kind." As he spoke, he reached out and brushed his hands against hers. They were by her sides and tightened into fists.

Zuko fiddled with her fingers until they relaxed, then moved his thumbs in circles against her palms in a calming gesture. Izara stared at him with widened eyes, unable to move. She was barely blinking or breathing, her jaw clenched tightly.

"You deserve to be happy. Truly happy. But you need to allow yourself the chance. You need to forgive yourself."

Hoping that he was making progress, he pressed a little further. These were all the same things he'd heard while going through these emotions from his uncle Iroh. All of these affirmations from the people around him eventually broke through the walls he'd built around himself. Their warmth, support, and unconditional love had stripped him back to his original form, raw and visceral. They built him back up, helping him become the man he was today. Someone he was proud to be.

Touching her cheek cautiously, he cupped her face and held her gaze when she didn't shy away from him.

"You deserve it." His voice was whisper quiet.

Zuko tilted her head forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. He heard her breath hitch in her throat, but she didn't pull away from him. Instead, he felt her tremble and wrapped his arms around her.

The torrent of emotion that Izara let loose seemed to surprise them both. All but breaking down in Zuko's embrace, she collapsed to the ground, and he went with her. She began to sob in earnest, the sounds of her crying broke Zuko's heart. Her head was buried in the crook of his neck and shoulder while his hand moved in soothing circles over her back. His best guess was that she'd never allowed herself to grieve for how much of her life she had spent fighting, literally and figuratively, to survive. All of the bad things she had to do just to feed herself. Zuko understood all too well that good people usually punished themselves for their wrongdoings far worse than anyone else could.

After the emotional exodus had continued long enough that there was a large wet patch on Zuko's shirt and Izara squinted as if she had developed a headache from crying, they headed inside. Zuko ushered her upstairs and into her bedroom so that she could get some rest. She was far too exhausted to fight against him, barely able to shuffle her way up the stairs. He pulled back the covers but made her drink some water before lying down. She hadn't looked at him since she'd broken down but grabbed his hand when he went to leave.

Her golden eyes were bloodshot and still glassy, and her face was red. Izara looked up at him hesitantly but lowered her eyes a second later. Zuko hadn't seen her so vulnerable before, and he wasn't sure how she would react, but he wanted to ask anyway.

"Do you want me to stay?" He kept his voice quiet, knowing her head was likely pounding painfully.

Izara chewed her bottom lip for a moment before nodding faintly. She shuffled over to make room for him. Zuko cautiously got under the covers and laid down beside her. He rolled onto his side to get comfortable and saw her nervously glancing at him.

"Sleep." He suggested softly.

"Thank you," she whispered, and blinked a few times before closing her eyes.

"Anytime," Zuko replied with a smile.

They slept peacefully…