rise above the hurt

soulmates

To say Zuko had a complicated relationship with scars was... an understatement. The one he bore clawed across his face by his father's hand had been a mark of shame for an incalculable number of years, and even now there were days where he'd rather shatter a mirror with a well-placed punch than stare a second longer at his reflection.

But Zuko refrained. He and the glass remained whole.

Zuko found he didn't mind the scar on his chest quite so much. At least not in comparison. It was a reminder of his arrogance, maybe, sniping at Azula for her lack of lightning, but it was not a mark of callous cruelty towards a child. More than that, though, the scar across his chest served as a unique connection to the most important person in Zuko's life.

An imperfect match.

"Ready?" Aang asked, and Zuko nodded. They'd been working on this technique for weeks—all that remained now was to at last put it to the test.

As if summoned, lightning splintered down from the sky and raced towards them. Zuko was the nearer target, so he raised his arm to intercept it, pulling the electricity through his body and down into his stomach before letting it escape through the fingertips of his other hand. Just as they'd practiced, Aang caught it from him. Zuko was left to do nothing more than watch, enraptured, as his partner redirected the lightning with more elegance than he could ever hope to possess, sending the energy crackling back into the sky.

Aang dropped out of the stance, giving Zuko an excited smile. "Well. Now we know it works."

Zuko stepped forward, pressing a kiss to the tip of Aang's nose. "We do."

They took shelter from the storm in a cave further down the mountain, setting up a makeshift camp inside as they waited for the dreary weather to pass. They laid their robes across flat stones near the small, not quite smoldering fire Zuko had lit to help the fabric dry faster. Of course, Zuko knew that Aang could have easily airbended their clothes dry, but then neither of them would have had an excuse to see the other shirtless.

Zuko began tracing Aang's scar on his back before he knew what he was doing. Once he realized, though, he couldn't bring himself to stop, even after Aang's shoulders stiffened for the briefest of seconds. But Aang's shoulders soon fell, and he hummed at Zuko's gentle touch. Zuko took that as a sign of approval.

Perhaps Aang's scar could be considered born of Zuko's arrogance, too, a result of his foolhardy, harsh certainty that his father's appreciation would heal his shame. Zuko knew better, now. He understood true forgiveness, how it was both earned and freely given. But his understanding didn't change the fact that Aang had died all those years ago.

Zuko sometimes thought of his reciprocal scar as penance, that which bound him to the Avatar.

Of course, Zuko would argue he was bound to Aang in more ways than just the one mark, now, as he leaned down to place a chaste kiss in the center of Aang's scar. Aang shivered, and Zuko smirked. He wasn't quite the arrogant fool he used to be, but there were certain matters he still allowed himself to be a cocky bastard about. His affection towards Aang was one of them.

Aang turned around, placing his right palm atop Zuko's own lightning scar. The tips of his fingers traced the edge with feather-like softness. "Do you ever think about how we got our scars in the same way?" he asked, his tone indicating long, careful contemplation of the subject.

"No," Zuko lied.

Aang laughed. "Right. That means you think about it all the time, then." He removed his hand, and Zuko's chest immediately mourned the loss of Aang's warm, tender touch. But Aang turned around to lean his back against Zuko's chest, their scars lining up to near perfection, and Zuko decided he much preferred this type of embrace. He wrapped his arms around Aang, pressing a kiss to the nape of his partner's neck.

After a moment, Aang asked, "Do they still believe in soulmarks in the Fire Nation?"

Zuko frowned, tilting his head in puzzlement. He'd heard the term 'soulmate' thrown around in casual conversation once or twice before, but soulmark? "No, I don't think so. Not that I know about."

"I had a feeling you wouldn't. Kuzon always told me he had more friends at school who no longer believed in them than those who still did."

Though Zuko suspected he already knew the answer, or at least had an inkling— "What are they?" he asked. "Soulmarks?"

Aang freed one of Zuko's hands from around his waist to lace their fingers together, leaning further back into Zuko's chest. "Just an old romantic legend from the Fire Nation, more or less. A rare few people, people who were fated to be together against all odds, would be born with identical marks in matching places on their bodies."

Zuko chuckled. "Sounds like that would make a lot of people overthink their birthmarks."

"Oh, you have no idea." Zuko could see a wistful smile tug at Aang's lips. "It was fun to pretend and to daydream about, though. Kuzon had a little mark right here"—the fingertips of Aang's free hand grazed the spot above his left eyebrow—"and I think he was more disappointed than he let on that I didn't have a matching one."

Zuko could sympathize. The idea of having a soulmark with Aang made his heart flutter. But then again... they had the next best thing, didn't they?

"Do our scars count?" he asked, not beating around the bush, and Aang chuckled.

"Well, we weren't born with them."

Fair.

"And they aren't in identical spots on our bodies."

Also true.

"Maybe not soulmarks, then," Zuko conceded. He pressed another kiss to the nape of Aang's neck. "But you acknowledged yourself that we got our scars the same way, and I think they line up too perfectly when I hold you like this to be a coincidence."

Aang laughed again. "What, do you like the idea of being cosmically bound to me?"

Zuko flushed. "Maybe."

Absolutely. Aang had all but stolen the words from his mouth. And once upon a time, Zuko would never have been able to confront such openness. Such vulnerability. Not to himself, much less to anyone else. The wound was too fresh, as it were. But now?

Well. Now he had Aang.

That made all the difference, didn't it?

"Mm, you sure know how to flatter a guy." Next thing Zuko knew, Aang had freed himself from Zuko's arms and turned around in his lap to face Zuko directly. "Want to know what I like the reality of, though? No cosmic bonds required?"

Zuko's heart skipped a beat as Aang's right hand reached up to cup his face, thumb gently tracing over the hand-printed burn scar—as if it both was and was not there. "Tell me," he said, mouth dry.

Aang smiled. "I like that we found each other despite the cosmos trying to keep us apart. I mean, a hundred years difference, fighting on opposite sides of a vicious war, all the shitty politics being shoved down our throats, and yet..." He shrugged. "We still found our way to each other. Against all odds."

Zuko closed his eyes as Aang leaned in for a slow, deep kiss, the kind that filled Zuko's chest with a warmth more satisfying than any fire he could ever hope to bend.

"We're here now," Aang whispered as he pulled away, and Zuko pressed their foreheads together.

"Yeah." A smile tugged at his lips. "We are."

They'd made it.