(dis)trust

sacred

this fic is so much talking and so much thinking and so little (literal) doing. very on brand for me tbh

~*~

"What's the hardest part about being Fire Lord today?"

A smile twitches at Zuko's lips. Aang has asked this question nearly every time their paths have crossed in the past several years, from official diplomatic interactions to intimate moments shared only between them. Most times, Zuko will answer with a quip, a joke—some unassuming remark that allows the conversation to move past this query that always acts as a potential stumbling block. Zuko doesn't like to talk politics with his lover unless the situation requires it.

Right now, though, right now is certainly far from a situation that begets a political response, right now as they share Zuko's bed while Zuko rests his head atop Aang's bare chest and Aang runs a slow hand through Zuko's ever longer hair. But today has been difficult—an understatement—and Zuko may be a talented firebender but even he cannot prevent his words from tumbling out his lips like a volcanic explosion.

"The distrust," he says, vehemence biting at his tone, and Aang hums in quiet acknowledgement. He doesn't stop running a gentle hand through Zuko's hair.

"Towards yourself?"

Zuko sighs. "Towards everything."

Even from his low vantage point, Zuko can see a hint of an amused smile tug at Aang's lips. "Well, 'everything' is quite a large expanse. Maybe you should narrow your concerns."

Zuko chuckles. "Practically speaking, yes, that is my plan." He sighs a second time. "But practicality can't keep me from thinking about the big picture." And how annoying such expansive concern was.

Maybe being a nation's leader would be easier if Zuko didn't care so much all the damn time.

He pushes that thought away before it can take root, living in perpetual fear of history's violence repeating itself beneath his reign.

Aang brushes Zuko's hair out of his forehead, his fingers tracing the top of Zuko's scar. "What are people..." He trails off, searching for the right words. "You said the problem is distrust?"

"Mhm," Zuko confirms. He closes his eyes, allowing some of the tension in his body to float away beneath the warm touch of Aang's hand. "Distrust of me and my government, although that"—he chuckles, borderline amused—"yeah, I can't really hold that against anyone. But there's also distrust of increased influence from the other nations. Distrust of our revisions to youth education, distrust of new theatrical pieces now that we've booted the Ember Island Players, even distrust of you, Aang."

Aang doesn't respond immediately, continuing the slow, steady, uninterrupted process of threading a hand through Zuko's hair. Zuko's head, still resting against Aang's chest, rises and falls with each breath Aang takes, and the balanced pace never wavers.

"Is it distrust of me," Aang says, "or distrust of the Avatar?"

A bitter laugh escapes Zuko's lips before he can stop it. "I don't know. Probably the second."

Zuko sits up, taking Aang's hand that had been combing through his hair into his own and lacing their fingers together. His gaze starts to drift down to the tattoos that line Aang's body, but he manages to lift his eyes upward and keep them aligned with Aang's. "The way some people speak, Aang, about the Avatar cycle..."

Zuko shakes his head, and he feels like the weight of the world will never stop resting on his and Aang's shoulders. "It's like nothing is sacred to them."

Aang nods with a sympathetic smile. "I can see how that might be frustrating."

Although it has taken time, so much time, too much time to get to this point in the Fire Nation's reconstructive efforts, one of Zuko's key priorities now is the reform of the Fire Sages. Slowly but surely, he is doing what he can with the records he has, but he knows more must be done, and he knows all he does may never be enough.