Shang and Zuko were two days’ travel from Omashu when Kouji’s letter caught up with them.

Shang read it first, and swore quite imaginatively.

“What is it?” the Firelord asked, frowning beneath his hood and absently rubbing at his bad knee.

“Guess who turned up at the palace.”

“Who?” he asked, his frown deepening. “Is anyone hurt?”

“No, nobody’s hurt.  But Kouji’s back.  With his sister.  And your son.”

Zuko stiffened a bit. “I know what you’re going to say,” he said, quietly, after a moment. “But if I hadn’t gone, I’d never have been able to forgive myself.”

“Let’s just go back.”

He nodded, pushing himself up, wincing under his hood when his knee popped a bit. “Lead on.”

It was a long trip back, but the two men made good time even with Zuko’s disability.

“…Katara isn’t going to be very happy with us. Nor is Iroh,” Zuko said, the night before they arrived, rubbing at his sore knee again.

“We’re both fucked, you mean,” said the soldier bluntly.

“…Somehow,” the Firelord replied dryly, “I don’t think that’ll be my problem.”

Shang smirked.  “Ah, then I’m fucked and you’re couched.”

“Exactly.”

“I’ll trade you.”

He laughed a little, with less humour. “Sometimes I wish.”

“Well, we’ll be there tomorrow.  We’ll just have to live with it.”

“Indeed.”

Shang sighed.  “Let’s get some rest.  You want first watch?”

“Sure.”

“Wake me when the night’s half over.”  With that, his bodyguard curled up and went to sleep.

Zuko, long since fallen into his old travel habits, woke Shang up after closer to two thirds of the night.  In retaliation and out of concern for his lord, Shang didn’t wake Zuko and instead let him sleep himself out.  “You should’ve woken me,” was the first thing the other man said.

“You needed the sleep,” Shang replied, unrepentant.

Zuko just glared at him and levered himself back up. “Let’s go, then.”

“Sir.”  Shang followed him.

They arrived the capital around midday, and managed to slip into the palace without incident. “You should go report to Iroh. I’m going to go find my wife.”

The bodyguard flinched.  “I’ll report in once you’re with her.”

“…You wouldn’t rather dodge this?” Zuko asked, a little surprised.

“I’m dodging nothing,” Shang retorted.  “Just go.”

The Firelord sighed, and limped off to his and Katara’s private chambers — even if he didn’t find Katara there, he could at least set down his bag before she started yelling.  Shang shadowed him the entire way.

Katara was, in fact, in the room. “You’re back.”

“Yes.”

She slapped him.

Shang flinched and left to report in to Iroh.

He could hear the Firelady’s yelling, muffled by the door, which Zuko had hastily shut after Shang left, halfway down the hall.

“Spirits help us all,” he muttered as he reached the General’s office.  He hesitated, then knocked.

The door opened right away. “Sergeant.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Explain.”

“He was leaving either way, sir.  Sooner or later he was going to get past me.  I decided it was better to go with him rather than have him on his own.”

The General nodded. “Fine. Anything to report about the trip?”

“Nothing particularly eventful, sir.  Ran into one of your spies, but I imagine he’s made it back by now.”

“Yes, he reported the incident.”

“That’s all I can think of, then, sir.”

“Write up a full detailed report and have it on my desk by tomorrow morning.”

Shang flinched; he hated writing reports.  “Yes, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

The sergeant bowed and left; he was in deep.

 

Not in nearly as deep shit as his lord was. Zuko had only escaped his wife’s yelling by slipping off to go meet his son.

He eventually found the boy outside with a teenage girl he didn’t recognise.  Something about her facial structure reminded him of Kouji, however; this combined with her age meant she must be his twin, Yui.

He stood there, awkwardly, knuckles going white on his cane. “Um… hello…”

The girl turned, and her amber eyes went wide.  “Lord Zuko,” she breathed, bowing.

The boy turned around as well, eyes also wide.

Zuko froze again. He looks like me… Unconsciously, his free hand drifted up to brush his scar. “Hello,” he repeated.

“H-hi…” the boy said, bowing carefully. His father bowed back, just as carefully, tightening his hold on his cane to make sure his knee didn’t give out.

The girl put a gentle — and protective — hand on the boy’s shoulder.

Zuko was silent for another long moment. “I… I know I haven’t…” He faded again, unsure what to say.

“How come you have a stick?” Mikoto asked, more to break the tension than because he was all that eager to open a conversation with this stranger.

“I hurt my knee,” he replied.

“Oh. How?”

Zuko hesitated a minute, unwilling to lie to his son or to tell him the truth. He settled for a half-truth. “I broke it. There wasn’t time to fix it right.”

“Sorry.”

“Thank you,” the Firelord said, after a surprised second.

Now the girl smiled, and moved her hand from Mikoto’s shoulder.  “Go ahead,” she said softly to him.  “It’s all right.”

A little hesitantly, he closed the distance between himself and his father. “I’m Mikoto.”

“And I’m Zuko. Uh, hello,” he said, for the third time.

The girl backed away, out of hearing range, so as to give the two of them privacy.

They talked for a few minutes. It was highly awkward, but it was a start.

Yui smiled from where she watched father and son, and tried to bury some of her… was it jealousy or pain?  She wasn’t sure.  You knew he wasn’t yours.  Stop that.  He deserves to be with his daddy.

After those few minutes were over, Zuko pushed himself back to his feet, promised Mikoto they’d talk again later, and limped back to the palace to face the music and deal with his uncle.

The child wandered back to Yui. “I don’t know why the guards said he was a bad man.”

She hugged him.  “I don’t know why either, Mito.”

“I asked him if you could stay,” he said, after a minute. “He said yes.”

Yui’s eyes widened, and she hugged him tighter.  “Thank you, Mito,” she whispered.

He hugged back.

After a few moments, Yui let go and grinned at him.  “Wanna feed the turtleducks?”

“Okay!”

She laughed and ruffled his hair, then followed him to the pond.

 

*                       *                       *

 

It had been a pleasant month since Zuko and Shang had returned to the palace.  Mikoto was getting to know both his father and stepmother, and he was also getting schooling in both bending and normal subjects as well.  A compromise had been reached between the Firelord and Yui, wherein she would work for him in a capacity somewhat similar as to that of a nanny.

When Mikoto was getting an education, however, she had free time, and she used that to explore the maze of a palace and learn to get around.

“Hello there,” one of Zuko’s many interchangeable aides said, smiling at her.

She blinked.  “Hi,” she replied, a bit suspicious.  Then again, she’d been suspicious of everyone she didn’t know since her kidnapping. 

“Nice day, isn’t it?” He approached her. “How are you enjoying life at the palace so far?”

“It’s all right,” she said, taking a step back.

“Have you made friends?” he asked, closing the distance again.

“I don’t… get along well with people,” she replied, stepping back again and feeling her back press against the wall.  What was it with these people and personal space issues?

“Pretty girl like you?” he asked, grin widening. “I don’t believe it.”

“Correction: I don’t like people.”

“That’s a shame. I’m sure people like you. I know I do.” Was that his hand on her shoulder? Yes. Yes, it was. And it was drifting uncomfortably down and in.

Amber eyes narrowed dangerously.  To those who knew Yui well, it was a warning sign as clear as bared fangs.  “Let go.”

He didn’t answer, only smiled a bit. His hand was now definately on her chest.

Yui smiled sweetly — the wild beast was in mid-pounce and her prey was so much dinner — and put her hands on his wrist.

In a single smooth motion, she yanked him closer and drove her knee into the soft point between his legs; a turn to the side brought her breast out from his unwanted attentions while a quick twist brought a musical snap to her ears.

He yelled and dropped to his knees.

Unfortunately for Yui, the aide’s shout had brought further attention. “What the hell?” the guard who arrived first on the scene yelped.

Yui ignored the guard for the moment.  “I told you to let go,” she said calmly.  “Maybe next time you’ll keep your hands to yourself.”

“Bitch,” the aide spat.

The guard smoothly stepped between them. “What happened?”

“He groped me,” Yui replied.  “I did tell him to let go before I hurt him, if it helps.”

“I did not,” the aide insisted. “We were just talking.”

Yui rolled her eyes.  “And my boobs suddenly developed a magnet-like force that drew your hand to them, right?”

“I never touched her,” he spat.

The guard sighed. “This is out of my hands. Sir, I’m going to take you to the infirmary, you need to get your arm set. As for you ma’am…” He shrugged. “I’ll report this and let my superior officers sort it out.”

Yui bowed, still looking annoyed.  “Yes, sir.”

The guard helped the aide off to the infirmary.

 

A few hours later, she got a very terse note telling her to report to the Firelord’s study.

Somewhat nervous, Yui nevertheless complied.

When she knocked on the door, a now-familiar voice called, “It’s open.”

Yui entered and bowed.  “You sent for me, Lord Zuko?”

“Yes. I did.” He looked up from whatever he’d been working on. “I’m going to have to ask you not to cripple my staff.”

“So long as your staff understands that these,” she bounced slightly to get her point across, “are not free-range, I won’t.”

Zuko coloured faintly. “I’m aware of what he did. The man’s a stupid ass anyway. But did you have to break his arm?”

“I wanted to make sure he got the point, my lord.”

“The low blow wasn’t enough?”

“No, sir.  That pain would eventually fade.  The arm will last a bit longer, and remind him to keep his hands to himself every time it rains.”

The Firelord sighed, and rubbed at his temples. “If there’s a next time, don’t break any limbs. If you have to get the point across by breaking something, break something that he doesn’t need to do his job.”

“How ‘bout I break the arm they don’t need?”

“You can’t be certain you’ve got the right one,” he pointed out.

“I can always ask.  They can consider it a second warning.”

“I would prefer it if you found something else to break,” he said, after a long silence.

“The nose, then?”

“Nose is fine. Break that.”

She smiled and bowed to him.  “Is that all, my lord?”

“Yes,” he replied, with a faint smile in return.

“Very well.”  With that, she quit the room, certain that this particular story would spread and she would be spared the indignity of a repeat performance.

 

*                       *                       *

 

Another month passed, with still no overt signs of movement from the Róng Yào. Lady Katara, now roughly four or five months along, was just starting to show, which led to a noticeable increase in her husband’s general twitchiness and paranoia.

The capital seemed to be holding its breath, winding tighter and tighter. Lady Mai was in and out several times a week, collecting and delivering intercepted communications for decoding.  One of those times, she passed by Ichiro, who had dropped in to visit his siblings.  He greeted her with a small smile.

She nodded a return greeting, then a scurrying page slammed into her, making her drop all of the scrolls she was holding.  The young farmer stopped and helped her to gather them.  “Here you go,” he said softly.

“Thank you, Ichiro,” she said, with a tiny smile.

“Would you like any help with them?”

She considered a moment, then nodded, handing him half of them.  The tall young man followed her from there in relative quiet.  This batch of scrolls was apparently destined to be worked on in her house. When they arrived, she paused at the doorway. “Would you like a drink or something?”

He hesitated for a bare moment.  “Yes, please,” he said at last.

She gave him another tiny smile, and led him inside. “What would you like?” she asked, after depositing her scrolls on a table already littered with paper.

“Tea is fine,” Ichiro replied, following suit with his load.

“What kind?”

“I’m rather partial to black tea.”

She nodded, and went for the tea. “So, how have you been?”

“Not bad,” he replied.  “Keeping an eye out for trouble since last spring, but there’s not been a hint of it in my area, at least.”

“Good.”

“And yourself?”

“Codebreaking.”

“Sounds… largely boring, actually.”  He smiled slightly.  “But I was never good with puzzles.  I leave that mess to Kou-kou.”

She gave him her tiny smile again. “That’s one word for it. Some of these are useless, too — ‘nothing to report, everything on schedule,’ etc.”

“And they don’t even have the courtesy to say what’s on schedule, do they?”

“Of course not. The people the messages are going between already know.”

“Tch.  Then why bother with the code?”

“Better safe than sorry.”

“Yes, true.”  Ichiro frowned slightly.

“Something wrong?”

“It’s been months,” he said, “and they haven’t moved again.  It… bothers me.”

“Bothers the rest of us, too. Makes us wonder what they’re waiting for.”

“That’s a disturbing thought.  Any important events coming up?  Anniversaries, holidays?”

“Not that I can think of.”

“…when is the Firelady due?”

“Four or five months.”

“Might that be what they’re waiting for?”

“…It’s possible. I’m sure the General’s already taken that into account, but I’ll remind him anyway.”

Ichiro nodded and fell silent, sipping his tea.  Mai did the same thing.  After awhile, Ichiro regretfully stood.  “I should probably start heading back.”

“It was nice talking to you again,” she said, quietly.

“And to you, Lady Mai.”

She rose, and bowed, then turned back to her scrolls.  Ichiro hesitated, then leaned in and kissed her cheek before leaving.  She coloured faintly, but gave no other indication that she’d even noticed.  Ichiro, flushing slightly himself, quickly made his way out into the main city.