AN: Before anything else, let's get this out of the way. There are seven sages behind Azula when she's getting crowned, but I wrote five here because I was thinking about the sages in "The Winter Solstice" episode. Oops. I didn't change it because it doesn't bear too much meaning on the plot, and having seven sages floating around the palace seems a bit much. Also, I constantly forgot about Sokka's broken leg.

This is practically, meaningless, plotless rambling, but I think, enjoyable rambling. It popped up bit by bit while I was writing another story,Revenant, and I ended up finishing now. Sprouts from the idea that the day of Sozin's Comet and Zuko's coronation probably had a few days in-between.

Enjoy. As this was mostly a writing exercise, criticism or tips on my writing would be valued.

"What do you mean I'm not Firelord!?" Zuko's voice is close to a painful screech but it also has that threatening, princely undertone which Katara usually found annoyingly effective.

It's intimidating enough that none of the sages seem obliged to answer. If it had worked, it would have saved them days of unbelievably frustrating work, but Zuko was also drowsy and leaning on her pretty heavily and his clothes were ragged and she guessed no matter how menacing he made his voice, it didn't cover up just how vulnerable he was at the moment.

One of them, likely the lead sage, cleared his throat, "Well, we just mean to point out that the Agni Kai did not have a clear winner."

Zuko's quick-fire, emotion backed reply, profoundly contrasted with the sages' anxious, lackluster performance.

"What do you mean we don't have a winner!?"

"I will give you, though, that Azula aiming for a bystander is open for debate. However, she did defeat you, and she was only beaten due to… interference."

Zuko's gaping, and looking back and forth like he was waiting for someone to throw up their hands and call this all a big joke. The lightning and lack of sleep probably wasn't doing his logical reasoning systems any good.

"What do you mean I'm not the Firelord!?" Now he was just getting repetitive.

"We mean, that you do not have a strong enough ground to be proclaimed Firelord."

"Listen here, you filthy, son of a-!" Katara stops him there, before he says anything he's going to regret.

"Why don't we call it a truce for now? Look, Azula's not… capable, of taking care of the Fire Nation right now, you don't need to look to her for orders. And I think it's safe to say we," she gives a little nod at Zuko, who's still bleary-eyed and raging, "have the upper hand right now."

The sages give a little side glance at each other, but don't argue.

"Let us rest and we won't burn the palace to the ground. Then, we can discuss this peacefully." Again, a glare at Zuko, who Katara suspects is starting to go cross-eyed from either anger or tiredness.

A few sages sigh, she sees at least one smile, and she takes it as a sign that not all of them hate their guts. "Very well. A ceasefire; we will not have you arrested as it is in the best interests of the Fire Nation that we settle this diplomatically."

"I'm glad we agree." Katara instantly calms. If nothing else, she doesn't have to fight a bunch of old men in pointy red hats today. She awkwardly shuffles between them, Zuko practically slung over her shoulder, hoping to dump him on a bed somewhere.

A sage clears his throat. "Uh, what about her?"

She turns around to the problem. She has to squint a bit, as her eyes had started to glaze out of focus, but she can still clearly see Azula straining rabidly at her bonds. Katara swallows warily.

"We'll take care of her. Later." She leads (drags), Zuko away. Quickly, because she does not want to have anything else to worry about.

As they stumble away, Zuko finally lets it loose. He spits out profanities like a grapeshot cannon, rapid and profuse, and Katara is unnecessarily reminded that Zuko has spent 3 years traveling the ocean, and also acquiring a sailor's notorious vocabulary.

He's dropped on the nearest couch and out like a light.

They find each other in the kitchen early the next morning, both of them counting on their mutual hunger to bring them together.

Katara, rested and fresh from the shower, rifles through the deserted kitchen cabinets. Luckily, the chefs hadn't taken the food when they were banished.

Zuko sheepishly limps to her side. He's stable at best, with a good night's sleep and a change of clothes, but the newly branded scar under his robes pulses roughly. He hovers around Katara, not sure how he could help but not wanting to sit and be useless.

Eventually she huffs at him and points at a chair. "Just sit down already."

"But I want to help."

"Just look at you. You look like you're going to fall over any minute."

"It's not that bad!"

"Do you really want to put all that hard work I put into healing you to waste? Besides; you're just getting in my way here."

Zuko sits down, slightly hurt but contrite, and also the slightest bit glad because the pain in his chest had started to spike once more. Leave it to Katara to make sure he doesn't hurt himself, but still write him off at the same time.

"I found some bandages last night. I'll patch you up after we eat something."

"Yeah, ok…" The memories of yesterday had been reviving and Zuko was rightfully abashed by it. "And sorry about yesterday… I was really out of it wasn't I?"

Katara gives a small snort of laughter as she slides some diced vegetables into a pot. "Out of it, isn't really a strong enough phrase. I don't think I, or any of the sages, knew you had such a sailor's mouth."

"It's not something I'm proud of…"

"I think Sokka and Toph would be impressed. But I don't think Aang would ever look at you the same way if he had heard you."

The teasing air fades almost instantly. The morning had been so calm, so commonplace and ordinary, that they'd chosen to forget the reality of the situation; they were enemy soldiers at war, in the heart of the enemy base with no idea whether they could count on their allies for back up, heck, they didn't even know if their allies were alive. And they were sitting around, having breakfast.

"What happened to them?"

Katara shakes her head almost imperceptivity. "I don't know. I saw a bright blue light yesterday, while you were asleep, but no word of them."

Zuko contemplates this. "So… what do you think that means?"

She sets down the knife she had been using, and turns the tap on, letting the water wash over her fingers. It's something familiar, and she's glad to have that in such a pressing scenario. "They're alive, Zuko. I know it's stubborn and naïve, but I have to believe that they've won, or else I don't know what I'd do."

He spares a glance at her, and Zuko wishes he could hold onto hope as enduringly as Katara could. But his mind couldn't help but wander into more dispiriting territory.

"Well, how about we make sure? I'm sure we can find a messenger hawk somewhere around here and we can send it out to find them. And maybe one to Ba Sing Se, too."

Katara looks back at him. "Why didn't I think of that?"

On a normal day, her expression might have made him laugh, but today was not, in any case, normal, no matter what it seemed like. He hefts himself to his feet. "Well then; let's do that."

But then Katara's inner healer springs forth and pushes him back into his chair, albeit gently. "What did I say about getting up? You stay here and eat. I'm getting the bandages and then I'll, send the letter."

Zuko sighs and almost starts up an argument. But then he remembers he has an audience with a bunch of headstrong sages later, and decides he might as well rest up.

They're waiting for him. He passes by the old war chamber and he tries his best not to shudder. He's glad the sages chose to use another room.

He'd spent the morning deliberating word choice over a bowl of soup, and busying his mind as Katara bound his chest in gauze by attempting to recall long-forgotten history lessons. Then he'd spent a while debating what to wear, whether the armor would seem too hostile or that robe too casual or that hairpiece too pretentious.

Now he's in front of the a pair of finely crafted wooden doors, cloaked in somewhat formal robes, red and black with only a touch of gold lining, hair combed but not bound in a topknot, hands sweaty and praying to the spirits he doesn't limp too badly and that old lessons on diplomacy would suddenly reveal themselves.

Zuko blows out one more breath of anxiousness, smooths over his mantle, and knocks. The interior quiets down and Zuko waits a moment before guiding the doors open.

"Good evening, esteemed sages." He holds out his hands and makes the traditional bow, first. The five of them stand, and return it.

One of them holds his hand out to a chair. "Have a seat, Prince Zuko."

Everything seemed to be going well, they had exchanged bows and they even chose to call him 'Prince'. Whether that meant they saw him as being restored into the royal family, he wasn't sure, but at least they were being civil.

The table is rectangular but not very long. The head sage sits at one end, Zuko sits at the other, and two sages sit on the right and left of him.

They are silent for a while, and Zuko contemplates whether he should speak but decides against it; he is the defending party here and speaking first would mean that he didn't acknowledge that. But perhaps speaking first would be a show of strength and control, and that's something he needs. Before he can wonder any longer, they speak.

"I see no reason to beat around the bush. As Fire Sages, it is our duty to uphold the culture and tradition of the nation. And according to those laws, we see Azula as having claim to the throne."

Zuko lays his hands over each other. He'd thought they would have spent a good chunk of time with harmless, formal banter before they dove into the thick of things.

"That claim being that she has the favor and approval of the previous Firelord?" To succeed, he needed to prove her claims null and somehow divert the succession to himself.

"And also that she is the only veritable heir. The status you and General Iroh are currently holding, renounce your place in the succession."

Well, that makes things a lot more difficult. Unless he can refute his status of 'traitor', this entire discussion would be in vain. He had to try however. The battle might have ended but they hadn't won the war just yet.

"So please, Prince Zuko. Convince us."

Katara sits on the steps leading to the Agni Kai field and she feels anything but calm.

She'd sent the hawks out hours ago, Zuko was still at his meeting and she'd had enough of walking through the crimson halls of the palace. They were dark and eerie and when she'd come across the monolith tapestries of Firelords long past, she kept feeling eyes on her back. She wondered when the last time a waterbender had walked those halls.

What more, Appa had flown away. When she saw him lumber his way into the sky she had run to him, called for him to come back desperately. When he'd flown out of earshot, she'd been crushed by an overwhelming fear that came with realizing they were essential trapped in this place. If Zuko hit the wrong nerve during his talks, they'd have nowhere to run.

But then she mulled over the whys and the whos and her mind came onto one hopeful thought: bison whistle, bison whistle, bison whistle. And by correlation, Aang.

However, there, on the porch of the arena, she couldn't hope to feel at ease.

Azula was still there, bound and unconscious, where they'd left her. Katara's hatred for her should have burned as brightly as the lightning she shot from her fingers; she had after all, shot that lightning at two people she cared deeply about.

But Katara couldn't. Her hatred was like lightning in a way; it burned bright and sudden sometimes, but them she remembered the image of Azula, straining, weeping, and the anger dissipated as quickly as it came. It was another reminder that the world wasn't black and white. Azula was a very dark gray, in her world, though.

However, she wouldn't wish for anyone to die from dehydration and exhaustion. She knew she'd have to figure something out with Zuko as soon as possible and the thought made her anxious. Dealing with Azula would make anyone anxious.

How would they do it? Knock her out? Trap her in a block of ice again? And she doubted Azula would restrain herself from roaring out a column of flames in their faces.

She chewed over her musings until the white splotch in the sky was too large to ignore. In the flurry of joy that followed, Katara leapt from her perch, slammed her feet into the charred arena floor, cheered up to the descending sky bison and unknowingly wept happy tears. Luckily, Azula was too drained to notice.

And they made quite a ruckus, but in their eyes it was completely entailed.

Aang got to her first, either because of added enthusiasm or airbending prowess. They called out to each other, and like a scene from a play, they embraced and twirled and fell to their knees with wind gently caressing them.

Then Katara looked up from her embrace and, though her eyes still swimming with tears, she could see them; Sokka, in crutches, with Toph holding him steady.

"You're alive. We're all okay." She manages to stutter, as they all kneel down and envelope each other in an embrace.

"I was so worried, Katara." Aang says. He grips her hand tight, even after they'd all settled down and released each other from their hold.

"I can't believe we did it." Sokka says wistfully, still caught in the mutual ecstasy of their reunion.

"I can believe it. I've known it all along!" Toph retorts, but Katara remembers the lines of fear and worry she had when they had set off however long ago, and she thinks Toph's a bit more relieved than she implies.

"I'm so sorry I made you guys worry. I didn't even think about sending a letter, Zuko thought about it this morning and I just… I'm so happy you guys are here. Tell me everything that happened."

"I'm so glad we're all okay. But before we get to anything else: where is Zuko?" Aang questions. The stupor they had been held in was starting to wear off, making way for worrisome yet surreal reality, but Katara doesn't mind. With all of them back together, she felt like they could face anything.

Toph also shifts a bit. "And who's over there?" She points over to the side. "Is that… is that Azula?"

Katara glances over but not for too long. She doesn't need to be burdened by those thoughts again.

"It is. We'll take care of it later. But come on - Zuko will be so relieved."

He couldn't help but feel that this debate was pointless. They hadn't gotten anywhere and he had no faith that the sages would be swayed anytime soon.

"According to the rules of Agni Kai, set down by Firelord Sozin, attempting to injure anyone other than your opponent is forbidden." Zuko tries to keep his frustration in check but that's never been his strong suit.

He hoped he had gotten his facts right. Sozin established the Agni Kai guidelines, right? But it's been part of the Fire Nation for longer... didn't Sozin's grandfather fight one? Wait, didn't Ozai revamp those rules? Spirits, he needed to do a little homework after this.

Despite Zuko assuring himself that he had made a fatal mistake, the sages contemplate this. "True. But Ozai has altered the wording of this rule, specifically; it is forbidden to injure a bystander. His Highness decided that an 'attempt' to injure, was too broad. And since the blow did not harm anyone other you, her opponent, it can be seen as legal."

Once again, Ozai was the source of his problems.

"But you have to agree that this circumstance was debatable. She did, later engage the bystander, didn't she? And without the battle being called to an official end, who the valid winner is, is murky."

Murky, that was the best he could do right now. Assure them that Azula's victory is questionable.

"He raises a fair point." A sage to his left says. Zuko's noticed that he'd been favoring him throughout the meeting. He also notices he hasn't caught any of their names yet. He should, if he's planning on working with them later, but right now anything concerning the future is murky.

The head sage scowls. Zuko gets the vibe he doesn't like him that much. "Perhaps. But even if we acknowledge that Azula forfeited the battle by engaging the waterbender, it doesn't help your case."

"How so?" He grits out.

"Simply put, Azula didn't win the Agni Kai, but as you did not defeat her, neither did you." The sage practically spits words at him. The man clearly disliked him but he didn't even have the decency to be subtle about it.

Zuko has to check himself before he makes anything spontaneously combust. He relives yesterday night, when he'd practically cussed out the sages. The memory makes him a little more humble.

"But then you'd agree that she forfeited. Therefore, I would be considered the victor."

"You fail to remember that Azula also dispatched you with that blow, in which case she would have won and we wouldn't need this discussion. But, as we have decided, I will concede to ignore this."

And once again, Zuko couldn't help but feel that this debate was pointless.

Screw diplomacy, he could light this room on fire and have them begging him to take the crown. Zuko leans back in his chair, closes his eyes and pinches his nose in an open display of frustration. If that headstrong old geezer wasn't going to be subtle about his hostility, why should Zuko have to be?

After so much adversity, from banishment to betrayal to near-death experiences, the war came to a stuttering halt here: a dusty, old war chamber filled with people too stubborn to be able to come to any agreement.

The old gasbag scoffs at him, but Zuko doesn't mind. He'd learned that he had no luck anywhere near a boardroom; peaceful exchange and patient deliberation never got him anywhere. Zuko couldn't do any good this way, but there were other options.

There's a knock at the door, but the tension's too thick for any of them to pay any notice.

"You know, Prince Zuko." He says it mockingly, and it only adds fuel to the fire that's bound to be set free. The torches flare, there's another knock on the door and there's mumbling on the other side. Not that Zuko, or anyone else, noticed.

"Maybe we should bring Firelord Azula into this discussion as well. I mean, she is a key player in this subject, isn't she?"

The slightly less hostile sage to Zuko's left rebukes him, but neither of them really pay any heed. "Sir, it is not best to provoke the other party."

"I speak only the truth. All the decisions we have agreed upon up to now should be made void. There should be a voices from both sides of this argument, don't you agree? You call yourself a man of justice, don't you, Prince Zuko?"

He straightens his chair, and rises slowly, devastatingly, like a tidal wave reaching shore. The wall sconces glow softly, threateningly, with dancing azure flames. The feat of bending makes his stomach churn and blood run cold, but he flares the flames as much as he dares. The head sage doesn't look surprised by this turn of events and if nothing else, Zuko has to admit the man is no coward.

The door opens and bright light spills into the chamber. Zuko growls and whips his head back; way to kill his vibe.

"Zuko!?" The monk's voice starts with an excited chirp, but lilts off in confusion at the end. Such a change of emotion in a two syllable word.

Zuko loosens his hold on the torches. The pressing gazes of the sages behind him mean nothing because silhouetted in the doorway are three figures he'd prayed he'd be able to see again.

"Oh…um, we'll come back later…" Aang bashfully closes the door and Toph gives him an enthusiastic wave, oblivious to what she had walked into. When the last of the light is sucked back into the hallway, Zuko dazedly waves back.

They were alive. Thank Agni, thank Tui, thank La, and thank any other spirit responsible for this. Zuko knew too well the cost of war, and he had prepared himself futilely to face the seemingly inevitable. But some higher being had spared him from the pain, and to them Zuko throws up silent praises.

He looks back at the sages and for a second all he can think is 'why aren't you happy? You should be happy!' Then reality slaps the idiotic smile off his face, but he finds that the anger is gone, and the only thing he has to fight is the urge to jump up and down in an uncustomary frenzy of joy.

He clears his throat, awkwardly, and tries to make his voice as solemn as he can. "Perhaps we should continue this tomorrow? I think we're all a little… disquieted right now."

The nice sage leaps up first. "I think that's a wonderful idea. A good rest will put everyone back in the right state of mind."

He picks up his robes and begins to leave. The head sage looks peeved but has no choice but to follow, lest people might think the great Fire Sages are less stately than they appear.

Zuko makes little note of this, as he realizes what his friends being here implies; they've won. Or almost. And right now he has to hold back from rushing out of the doorway.

Once the last sage shuffles out of the doorway, all formality is thrown out of the window as Zuko rushes through the palace like a madman, following the echo of joyful, familiar voices. He finds them, together, laughing and he'd never have thought the sight would make him so happy.

They all ground to a halt, they with grins growing on their faces, Zuko panting, the bandages at his chest somewhat constricting and robes in utter disarray. Seeing them there, alive, in front of him, emotions swim through even stronger than before, because now he knows it's real, beautifully, miraculously, real.

This one time, it's Zuko who gathers them in for the hug, and the rest of them have never let him live it down since. Once again, they are a bundle of arms and happy tears and incredulous laughs, rolling on the ground.

Zuko decides if nothing else, he's done one thing right.

They probably would have sat there, steeped in the joy of each other's company, for much longer, but Zuko starts writhing. They all throw themselves backwards, like he had the plague.

Aang's instantly panicky; asking what was happening, did he do something wrong, what should he do, was Zuko okay, spirits, did he hurt him?

Zuko doesn't answer, only clutches the scar under his robes and tries to collapse into himself.

At that point, Katara's cleared through the initial surprise and starts barking out orders. Aang, get her some water; Sokka, pillows, bandages, stat; Toph, hold him back.

Katara rolls his shirt off and rips through the bandages, and Zuko is quiet throughout it but his violent twitches speak of the pain he won't vocalize.

Aang and Sokka haven't returned yet, so Katara makes do with the liquid in her water pouch, but it looks too thinly spread across the jagged scar at his chest. Despite the fact, his pain is visibly lessened and he stops resisting Toph, who had been holding him back from tearing at the scar in anguish.

They stay like that, Katara with her hands coated in blue, trying to loosen the sickly mass of tissue at her fingertips with too little water but unable to do more than grant that initial relief, and Toph slowly releasing Zuko's arms while allowing him to use her lap as a headrest.

Katara concentrates, tries to plunge into the deeper chi lines futilely, and decidedly attempts to heal what she can for now. Sokka returns first with the supplies under one arm and Katara feels a little guilty for ordering him around when his leg was still broken but she barely glances upwards from her work.

She hears his intake of breath when he first sights the angry red mark. Aang joins them, a pail of water in tow, and his surprise is much more vocal than Sokka's, manifesting in a quick yelp followed by a swift patting of feet as he came to a crouch by her side.

With the additional water, Katara's healing increases ten-fold as she gives all the effort she can. She lets the power permeate deeper, smoothing the clot of chi like the tangles in Appa's fur and melting the snarls of choleric muscles like ice.

She feels slight shocks run up her arms, as she soaks up the remnants of Azula's attack.

She allows herself a glance upwards and sees that Zuko is bleary-eyed and dazed but isn't cringing in agony anymore.

The others are crouched at his side. Toph, having replaced her lap with Sokka's pillows for Zuko's head to rest on, looks at a point besides Katara, and rocks on the ball of her heels, nervously. Twirling the gauze in his hands, Sokka looks wary but determined to spring up and help should Katara ask for it. Aang's a bit jumpy, grazing his eyes over the area and she catches him glancing at the scar underneath his own robes and look back at Zuko's, likely connecting the dots. He catches Katara's own eyes on him and his look is one of a person holding back a thousand questions.

She asks for the bandages, and they end the impromptu healing session by laying Zuko back down on his cushions. She wrapped the bindings less tightly, as it seems that the last application had restricted his breathing.

Zuko breathes deeply but comfortably and she almost thinks he's asleep but he opens his eyes halfway, like anymore would be too tiring. Katara breaks the silence.

"You are a complete idiot." It isn't indignant, or mocking. She says it like it is an undisputable fact, but it's said coolly enough that the nervousness in the air shatters.

It even outs more when a small smile finds its way on Zuko's face. "I know. Sorry."

Katara snorts. The others relax at the sound of Zuko's quiet, but stable, voice.

"If none of you mind," Toph starts flatly, "can someone please tell me why Sparky over there just started dying!?" Her voice ends as coarse and insulting but Katara realizes it didn't just root back from a want to be sarcastic, but also a hint of hysteria.

She scans her friends' faces and she remembers that they hadn't yet talked about what had happened yesterday. Katara always knew Zuko would be alright, that this was just a result of him provoking the injury and he was in no fatal pain, but for them it might have seemed like a life-or-death situation.

"He's fine, guys. He was never in any danger." Katara decides it's best to clear that up first.

"You tell us that now." Sokka's voice is dry. "Then what's with the big scar?"

"What scar?" Toph asks.

Zuko brings his hand to the bandages at his chest, almost self-consciously.

"Lightning?" Zuko nods to Aang's question.

Katara meets his eyes, mournful, then a question; are you going to tell them? Then, Zuko widens an eye.

"Azula."

"Azula?"

"Azula. Is she still out there?"

Well, they had to deal with her eventually. "Yeah. She is."

"We need to move her. She hasn't eaten or anything for at least a day and we can't leave her there. She'll get sick."

For a moment, it sounds like Zuko's just an anxious older brother watching over his sister.

"I- I can't send her anywhere else yet. I guess we can take her to the prison for now."

Sokka says cynically, "Where else would we put Princess Crazy. Other than a mental ward."

The joke isn't taken lightly. "You didn't see her yesterday, Sokka. Come on."

Katara recognizes what the rise in Zuko's shoulders mean.

"Oh no, you are staying right here." The self-destructive oaf made like he was about to say something.

"Did I mention how stupid it was for you to run here?" He gave a soft murmur. She scoffs. "How do you just forget, about a wound like that? And I told you not to firebend with your chi still all messed up!"

"I didn't fireben…" Oh. Wait. He did.

"Sure you didn't."

"You should listen to Katara, Zuko." Aang starts. "She's usually right and I don't think it's good to do much while you're healing. I mean, I slept for weeks when I got hit by lightning."

"Don't remind me."

"It's not the same thing. And how come Sokka's helping when he's got a broken leg?"

"I for one, am the brains of this operation. And unless you have any to offer, you and your creepy spasms can stay right there."

"Yeah, no one drags Snoozles around for the muscle."

"Excuse you, but remember when these muscles kept you from falling of an airship? Cuz I certainly do."

"Remember when these muscles earthbent you into a stone coffin? Oh, wait, maybe I'm looking at the future!"

After a minor scuffle, the four manage to hobble away, not giving heed to Zuko's complaints.

"I never said I wanted to help anyway…" He grumbles to no one in particular.

He contemplates getting up and doing something productive. The shifting made chills run up body, stiffening and aching his joints and the thought is struck down.

Feeling like a lame old man, Zuko taps his fingers idly on the table. It wore a thin coat of dust. He was going to need to rehire the servants once he was Firelord.

And he would be Firelord, he refused to doubt it.

He'd need to free Mai and Ty Lee once this was over. Also the other prisoners of war.

Before that, he'd need to call back the army. He'd need to send messages to the ground troops, the navy, he'd need to pull back the forces at Ba Sing Se. And Omashu. And a dozen other colonies. Then he'd need to send couriers to inform the public.

He groans just imagining how much effort it would take. He should probably write this down.

First though, he'd send search parties for his mother. Azula, he'd find her someplace that could help her.

His senses must have been dulled; he hadn't heard the man's footsteps as he stepped into the room. Red robed and aged, the sage didn't seem to expect him there.

"Sage- uh sage…" He made to stand up but the flare in his chest condemned him.

"Sage Ruhon, my prince. I heard some bumping around the area and decided to investigate."

"Oh, well, the Avatar and his friend were having a bit of a… disagreement."

"Where have they gone, anyway, may I ask?"

"They've gone to… deal with Azula. She needs somewhere safe to stay."

"The jailhouse, I presume."

He nods unwittingly. "I'll find a more proper place, once everything is cleared up."

"Yes, and hopefully that is soon. I expect that tomorrow will not be a repeat of today's episode?"

His voice reminded him of his old tutors, which irked him, but as they were then, he was right.

"I assure you, sage Ruhon. I acted immaturely, under the hand of emotions."

"I think we all did."

"Yes, the other one…" Zuko contemplated whether it was inappropriate to be mentioning someone behind their back, "…was a little crude…"

"The years under Ozai's rule has made us… disillusioned. Kan especially, that is why he was made high sage."

"I should have expected that." He suspected that his father had never been much of a religious man.

"Do not lose heart. I trust that we will forge the path greatest for the nation. The others will see it; at the core, we are men of faith."

"I only hope quickly. The world's waiting for us to make or break this peace, and I don't know when either side will decide to make a move." The pause in the air spoke of him agreement.

"Rest, Prince Zuko. I should run up to the jailhouse; I doubt the guards would take custody of their Princess quietly. Especially when it's the Avatar who's handing her over."

He paled. "Oh…"

"Don't worry too much. The guards won't do anything rash, and I think my orders will be enough to assuage their confusion. But next time, I recommend you and your companions keep your heads down."