Chapter 1: Ch- ch- changes
Chapter Text
Zuko thinks he really should've known that befriending the Avatar would lead to something utterly insane and ridiculous like this, but he supposes it's fitting that he didn't see it coming, considering that he's always had trouble seeing what was right in front of him, even since before he almost had one of his eyes scorched out of his head...
Zuko bites back a sigh. He's trying to be nice now, damn it, but all the... people keep making that task more difficult than it should be.
"Will you please stop that?"
Aang freezes, all four limbs tensed and pushed out in mid-bending stance. A quizzical expression comes over his boyish features.
"Stop what?"
Zuko resists another sigh. It's become significantly harder as of late for him to determine when Aang is genuinely confused or when the twelve year old Avatar is just being thick-headed on purpose. Strictly for the sake of annoying Zuko. Probably.
"Will you please stop playing with the ancient and potentially dangerous airbending scroll?"
Aang's eyes widen in recognition, his gaze drifting to the torn and dusty scroll laid down amongst the grass by his feet.
"Ohhh.. well, I'm not playing with it, I'm just... okay I may be playing with it a little bit."
Zuko very pointedly does not roll his eyes, because eye-rolling is for childish students, it is not for wise teachers. He reaches up to brush long strands of messy hair away from his right eye before he speaks.
"I thought I already said that mysterious scrolls found buried in temples aren't the sort of things to be trifled with when you found that. Do you really think that flailing through the motions of some possibly powerful scroll is the best course of action when we don't know what it does?"
Aang's face takes on the pinched expression that always seems to appear when he wants to impart some deep and inspirational Avatar wisdom, but can't quite find the words big or sophisticated enough to do the job.
"It.. may not be the best way to go about it, but... what if it really is something super powerful? It could help us win the war, Zuko."
The scarred prince keeps his gaze held tightly on the scroll, a considering hum rising in his throat.
Aang shakes his head softly, his arms and legs beginning to shift and sway as he resumes the bending stances.
"I just can't shake the feeling that this is something really important that I'm supposed to find, y'know?"
Zuko turns a critical eye onto the torn and faded sections of the scroll where details and descriptions usually reside, an uneasy feeling stirring in his chest.
"Don't you think if it were something that crucial, we would've heard about it by n-"
A swift and sudden change in the air halts Zuko's words instantly. His eyes snap up as Aang lets out a startled grunt.
"Aang? What's wrong?"
The younger boy's features are strained, his arms beginning to shake as they're held out rigidly in front of him.
"Som- something's wrong. I can't-.. move."
Zuko feels the first spark of panic in his mind at Aang's worried tone. The spark becomes a smoulder as a small orb of energy glows to life in the younger boy's hands, the electric feeling in the air seeming to swell and pulse.
"Well, cancel it out! Let it go, or- something!"
A tight grimace has overtaken the young Avatar's face, the edges of the tattoo on his forehead beginning to glow.
"I don't-! Know how to-"
Aang's eyes slam shut as a pained shout is forced from his throat. Zuko takes a panicked step forwards.
"Aang?!"
The orb of energy in the younger boy's hands swirls and pulses rhythmically with the air around them. It shines as bright as a star just before it's discharged from Aang's grasp.
Zuko barely has time to flinch before the orb flies directly into his chest.
In the span of a single second, Zuko feels the earth's spin come to a sharp and sudden stop. His heart stops with it.
He feels himself falling backwards, but everything around him has slowed to a frozen crawl. A sense of weightlessness overcomes him.
Rainbows and colors that he can't put a name to flash behind Zuko's eyes.
Aang's horrified scream of "Zuko!!" is the only sound that penetrates the deafening roar in the scarred prince's ears.
His vision is overtaken by a blinding, shining white.
Zuko regains a corporeal sense of self and being just in time to feel himself vomit up the contents of his stomach.
The acrid and bitter taste of regurgitated fire flakes settles on his tongue.
He's curled up into a shivering ball of limbs in a puddle of sweat on the floor, the entirety of his nervous system protesting severely at their current state.
Is this what being born feels like?
Zuko shudders and tries to get used to the feeling of breathing once again. Something feels.. wrong, but he can't quite pinpoint exactly what it is.
After a few more moments of trying to position his limbs underneath him, he decides to amend that thought.
Everything feels wrong.
It takes him until then to notice that his eyes are clamped shut. He forces them open, wincing against the bright sunlight shining into his face.
Zuko twists his head around slowly, his unease worsening as he realizes that he's no longer in the grassy field that they'd been camped out at, only smooth stone flooring beneath him.
A dull ache throbs in his throat as he speaks.
"A- ang.. where are... you?"
Zuko's eyebrows pinch together at the high-pitched tone that his words come out in.
His gaze passes over the hand laid out on the floor beside him. The prince goes as still as stone.
Is that- No. That's ridiculous.
It's a child's hand. It's his hand.
No. What?
Zuko clenches, the small fingers curling into a fist in response.
Dear spirits, What??
Zuko hesitantly trails his gaze along the childish hand and the arm it's connected to, fighting back a wheeze when it leads to his own shoulder and chest.
This leads him to yet another heart-stopping realisation.
He can see, very clearly. Out of... both of his eyes.
With a hitch in his breathing, Zuko slides small and trembling fingers up to his face.
He finds only soft and unblemished skin. A shuddering breath is knocked from his chest.
The prince slides another hand up to his hair, touching at the full and lengthy phoenix tail that's returned to the top of his head.
That's when he notices the fire nation royal flag dangling from the ceiling.
The fingers touching at the skin around his left eye are dragged down to clamp over his mouth. It's the only thing that stops the panicked shout from escaping his mouth and being heard throughout the palace.
Dread sinks into his heart with one last thunderously horrifying revelation.
He's home.
Zuko isn't sure how much time passes after that, but it's long enough for the sun to fall slowly out of sight, leaving the sky to darken into an inky black.
It takes all the energy he has to stand up on wobbly and entirely too-short legs once a servant knocks gently on his door to inform him that dinner has been served.
The prince takes a painfully brief moment to compose himself, then sets off to stagger listlessly through the palace halls with the aura of someone being marched off to a violent death. It's a feeling that he is intimately familiar with.
He manages to pull out a chair and sit quietly at the dinner table, his gaze held low. Confused horror fills his mind like a rising tide in a maelstrom, but if there's one thing that could possibly help him in this moment, it'll be sat across from him at the table.
If he can have just one thing in this whatever the agni-damned hell this is, please let it be the sight of his mother's face.
Zuko raises his eyes slightly, his gaze moving to the seat across the table from himself.
It's empty.
It takes every ounce of restraint that he has to not puke again and pass out face-first into the plate of food that's sat in front of him.
Zuko knows that if he just raises his eyes a little more and looks to his left, he'll see Ozai's face, that harsh and stony expression that he's grown to despise in a way that words can't properly communicate. It was apparently the only expression that his father ever felt Zuko was worthy enough to see.
And Zuko knows that if he looks to his right, he'll see Azula's impossibly young face, no doubt twisted into a haughty sneer or a cruel smile, her primary default expressions after she'd grown up just enough to stop being the curious and playful little sister that he remembered from so long ago.
Well, she's still playful, he supposes. It's just that all the games she likes to play now seem to always end with pain for any other players, be they willing participants or not.
He has to look, doesn't he? Zuko doesn't think he can help himself.
He needs proof. He needs to see that the rest of the world around him has been subjected to this reversal of time and fate as well, or he needs something to snap him awake and out of this damned nightmare.
Dream or not, the idea of laying eyes on his father still makes his stomach twist violently. Zuko forces his gaze up hesitantly, turning his eyes to the right.
Azula's youthful features greet him like a rebellious slap to the face. Tragically, this doesn't succeed in yanking him back into any kind of consciousness.
Her head is held high as she recounts how successfully her firebending training had gone that day, how her teachers are more and more sure with every passing session that she truly is a masterful prodigy.
Zuko can almost hear the faintest shimmer of pride in his father's words as he calmly praises Azula's progress.
The prince tears his gaze away from his sister numbly, swallowing past the lump that's suddenly appeared in his throat.
It's probably a good thing that he's never been expected to talk much at these dinners, or they might've begun to suspect something was wrong with him by now.
Then again, would they? Would they care enough to notice? Do dreams even realize when you've started acting oddly? Because they aren't truly his father and sister, surely. They're illusions that have been summoned from his mind for some reason.
Maybe he's dead, and this is his hell. That'd make sense.
After all, it's not as if he hasn't done enough to earn a place in the realm of the damned. It's the only logical explanation, right? That, and...
The bright glow of an orb held between the hands of a twelve year old Avatar shines behind Zuko's eyes.
Zuko has heard of ancient bending scrolls containing some seriously powerful and insane techniques, but this?
So. He's either dead, suffering through eternal damnation and never-ending pain.. Or, he's stuck in the past with his father and sister.
Zuko can't decide which prospect is more terrifying.
He's almost tempted to loose a bewildered cackle, because of course this happened to him. This is his luck, this is his life. Struck accidentally with a preposterously powerful bending technique that was activated by a child Avatar.
Zuko thinks that it's a somewhat accurate claim to say that the universe has been picking on him for most of his life.
The prince feels a sudden swell of emotion, tears threatening to build rapidly behind his eyes.
Zuko crushes the feeling desperately. Imagining the sheer disgust he knows he'd see on his father and sister's faces if they saw him crying helps him do it.
The rapid shifting of emotions leaves him feeling exhausted, the prince rubbing over his damp eyes with a quietly dejected sigh.
Fate couldn't even have been kind enough to send him to a time when his uncle was present? To a time where he could've.. seen his mother once again?
No, of course not. Zuko was stuck with the parts of his family that-
His family?
Something deep within Zuko shifts violently in protest.
No. No. Zuko's family was.. Ursa. Iroh. Lu Ten. It was the people who cared about him, who loved him. Ozai and Azula...
A resolve as solid as steel settles in Zuko's mind. He may not know what family is, probably couldn't put it into words if he was asked, but Zuko does know what family isn't.
It isn't cold silence and colder words, it's not affection locked behind a wall of achievements. It isn't living in fear of what will happen if you make mistakes.
If that is family, then... It's not a family that Zuko wants any part of.
He rages internally at the thought of having to spend even just one more day in the company of the people who've caused him more pain than anyone else on the planet when-
A thought snaps into place in his mind.
... He doesn't have to stay here.
Zuko had been held to this place throughout his childhood for many reasons. He'd stayed because of honor, a duty to his people. He'd stayed because he loved his family. He'd stayed because... he'd truly never been able to imagine a world in which he survived doing anything else.
But now.. Zuko isn't a brainwashed child anymore. He knows the truth.
He imagines a bird, loosed from its cage and taking flight with feathers made of flame.
A small and unbidden smile grows on Zuko's face.
Ozai's tone is sharp, as always.
"What are you smirking at, boy?"
Zuko smoothes out his features, but the warmth that had birthed his smile remains hot in his heart.
"Nothing, father. Nothing at all."
Zuko lays rigid in his bed, his eyes staring ahead but unseeing as thoughts run rampant through his mind. He can hear Aang's hopeful voice with crystal clarity.
"It could help us win the war, Zuko."
Between waking up in his unscarred eleven year old body, having what could generously be called a mildly devastating mental breakdown, and then forcing himself to share a meal with the two people who've caused him more harm than anyone else ever has in his life, Zuko hasn't really had much time to contemplate exactly what this.. unusual dilemma could mean for the rest of the world, but the possibilities are finally beginning to present themselves in his mind.
He can help stop the war earlier. He can find Aang, gather all of their friends and allies. He can save lives, avert countless deaths.
Zuko can take the honorable path, right from the start. He can avoid all the unnecessary, foolishly childish mistakes that he made once before.
Despite the lingering horror of the situation that he's found himself in... Zuko actually feels a thrum of giddiness in his mind as he plans what needs to be done.
Zuko listens intently, wondering if enough time has passed for the rest of the palace to fall into sleep.
He gives a definitive nod to the ceiling, throwing back the soft and expensive sheets on his bed before he hauls himself to his feet.
After a brief moment of consideration, he snatches one of the sheets from the bed, folding and twisting it until it will serve as the makeshift sack he requires.
Zuko pauses hesitantly as he approaches the imposingly large bedroom door, a spike of fear rising in his chest at the thought of what could happen if he gets caught.
The smell of smouldering flesh and the feeling of fried nerve endin-
He shakes his head stubbornly, digging deep for the confidence he knows he can find in himself.
Zuko opens the door with nervy swiftness and slips out into the hallway with quiet steps. He pads along the floor as quickly as he's able to while still staying silent.
The prince moves until he sees the small pedestal that's sat against a wall near the end of one of the palace halls. He walks closer until he's nearly face to face with the little dragon statue made entirely out of jade, the shining rubies inlaid for eyes on it staring him down.
Zuko can still remember when his father brought the priceless artifact home, proudly proclaiming it a spoil of war. It was yet another symbol of his father's utter disregard for human life and basic decency, though Zuko hadn't been able to see it as such at the time.
The young prince lifts it off of the pedestal carefully, settling it at the bottom of his makeshift sack.
At least like this, maybe it can find its way back to someone who'll actually appreciate it.
Zuko sets off down another hallway, heading for the next item that will accompany the jade dragon in his sack.
After he's finished preparing (or "shamelessly stealing" as some liked to call it) for the arduous journey about to be undertaken, Zuko finally makes his way outside of the palace.
He uses every skill he'd learned from his time as the Blue Spirit to slip past the guards scattered around the palace grounds. Well, every skill that his youthful body is actually able to perform. The bulky sack that's been filled to the brim and slung over his narrow shoulder doesn't really help his range of movement either.
Zuko narrowly avoids every single guard and lookout on the premises, hope swelling in his chest as he nears the edge of the property.
That hope all comes crashing down with just one quietly spoken sentence.
"I thought so."
Zuko's whole body tenses, his heartbeat slamming against his chest. He mentally sends a near-hysterical chastisement at himself.
In his haste to escape, he'd neglected to properly consider the one person on the palace grounds who paid more attention to their surroundings than the people who were actually paid to pay attention.
Zuko forces down the panic and turns stiffly to face his sister.
Even at this young age, Azula's ability to inject the threat of razor-sharp danger into her otherwise calm tone remains almost unparalleled.
"Where is it that you're planning on going, dear brother?"
She raises an eyebrow curiously, her amber eyes unblinking as she watches him. Zuko tightens his lips and raises his chin defiantly.
Azula continues nonchalantly.
"I suppose your first mistake was thinking that the sense of invisibility you must've been feeling lately applied to you literally, but your displeasure tonight would've been obvious to a badgermole, Zuzu."
She huffs out a short breath, something he'd almost call a laugh if it didn't sound so utterly disgusted.
"I guess that big, bleeding heart of yours just wouldn't fit anywhere else other than right there on your sleeve, would it?"
Zuko feels even smaller than he has since he woke up in his younger body, fighting not to squirm under his sister's sharp gaze. His eyes dart over her shoulder, expecting alarm bells to begin ringing and guards to come running at any moment.
Azula's expression has turned distinctly unimpressed.
"Well? You've managed to muster up the courage and turn your back on your family, aren't you going to say som-"
Fear and anger swirl violently in Zuko's chest, the last of his restraint slipping away.
"You are not!!"
Azula's eyes widen slightly at her brother's hushed growl of a sentence.
Zuko's fists clench at his side, the young prince fighting to keep his voice low.
"Just because I had the misfortune of emerging from the same womb that you did does not make us family."
The slightest flash of emotion passes over his sister's face. It's the biggest reaction that he's been able to draw from her in quite some time.
Something almost akin to respect settles on Azula's features. Zuko ignores the ache in his heart and swallows down a sigh.
His family always was most responsive to cruelty, weren't they?
Zuko searches his mind for something else he can say to her, anything he can say to just make her understand.
His brain conjures up an almost forgotten memory.
The soft sound of a childish, innocent giggle. The warmth of Azula's cheek on his as she clings onto him with an affectionate hug.
Zuko closes his eyes, shaking his head to himself gently, a soft and solemn movement.
That Azula left a long time ago. It's time for Zuko to do the same.
The prince readjusts his grip on the sack slung over his shoulder and turns away from his sister, walking off once more with determined steps.
Zuko keeps his guard up for any incoming fireballs at his back, but as a deep and quiet part of him suspected, Azula doesn't attempt to stop him.
He doesn't look back until the salty sea-breeze passes over his face and waves shift at the wooden vessel beneath his feet.
Chapter 2: Burnin' for you
Notes:
Thank you so much for the kudos and comments on the first chapter, I adore them and they inspire me greatly 💕
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Two months later
Snow crunches underneath his boots as Zuko trudges forward. The icy cold seeps through the material on his feet, forcing a grimace out of the prince.
Once he'd actually journeyed to a location that was cold enough to need more layers, he hadn't exactly been able to afford the thicker, better quality clothes that might've come in handy in the middle of a frozen tundra. Selling the jade dragon and the few other items that he'd.. appropriated had only gotten him so far.
Zuko shivers and pulls the hood of the coat farther down onto his face. It hadn't been this cold during his last trip to the southern water tribe, had it?
His brain latches onto something there.
His last trip to the southern water tribe..
Zuko's foot catches on a stiff and icy patch of snow, almost sending him tumbling down. He just barely manages to right himself.
A frustrated huff falls from the prince's mouth as he carefully resumes his pace.
To Zuko's chagrin, his mind returns to its previous subject. The memory of exactly what kind of person he'd been during the last time he was in this place assaults his thoughts vividly.
Zuko shakes his head in disdain at the mental image of the scarred prince that had invaded these lands before, a desperate and angry boy driven to casual cruelty.
Zuko's next shudder has nothing to do with the penetrating cold around him.
The prince forces his mind away from regretful thoughts and focuses on the task of keeping his body warm enough to fend off frostbite. It's entirely possible that he might've succumbed to the elements on this portion of his journey, had he not been a firebender.
Zuko supposed that there was indeed a dash of irony to mine from the fact that the very thing keeping him alive on the last leg of his journey might just end up being the thing that gets him killed once he reaches his destination.
Zuko stomps along through slippery snow, his nose and face numbed from the unrelenting assault of icy winds.
Just as he begins to accept the possibility that he may have actually forgotten how to find his destination, a group of dark shapes that seemingly resemble a southern water tribe village appears on the flat expanse of snow ahead of him.
After an excited intake of breath, Zuko picks up his pace, moving through the thick snow as fast as his short and tired legs will allow.
With exhaustion and victorious joy warring in his mind, Zuko thinks to himself that those dark shapes look distinctly like salvation.
Or imminent death. One or the other.
Zuko runs until his legs feel like they're about to give out, finally letting himself slow to a staggered stop once a sharp whistle cuts through the air.
The guards on lookout have spotted him. Two men dressed in warm furs and ocean blue colors descend from a snowy hill near the edge of the village and approach Zuko slowly.
The two men keep throwing glances over Zuko's shoulder, seemingly looking for the trap they expect to spring shut around this apparent piece of bait. They seem to calm somewhat once they close in and confirm he's alone.
"Hey, little guy.. what are you doing out here by yourself? Did you get separated from your tribe?"
Zuko resists the urge to bristle at "little guy", attempting to infuse his tone with as much grace and confidence as his eleven year old vocal cords and exhausted lungs can muster.
"No. My name is Prince Zuko of the fire nation, and I am here to see your chieftain in regards to a trade of information and loyalty in return for sanctuary."
The dual expression on both men's faces falls on a spectrum of bewildered and amused.
"... okay, I definitely think you've been out here in the cold for too long, kiddo. How about we get you some warm soup and then we can figure out where you got lost?"
Zuko heaves out a long-suffering sigh and extends his hand, a small flame springing to life just above his palm. The orange wisp of fire sways in the wind, dancing over the material of his glove.
It's a small flame, surely no taller than six inches, but judging by the distance that the two men's mouths drop, Zuko might as well have summoned a fifty foot tall cyclone of fire.
Zuko shuffles his damp feet in the snow.
"I.. I will take you up on that soup offer, though."
Zuko raises a bowl to his lips, fighting the desire to gulp down the warm broth he's been given. He settles the bowl on his lap, discreetly wiping off the stray soup splashed onto his lip with the back of his glove.
The prince slides the coat-hood off of his head, reaching up to swipe his hands over short and sweat-soaked tufts of hair. He'd taken a blade to his phoenix tail and the rest of his dark locks as soon as the fire nation palace was behind him at a safe distance.
Zuko had rushed, sliding the blade through his hair with nervous hands, and as a result, it may have looked a little bit like he'd been attacked by an extremist group of rogue hairstylists... but it could have been worse. Probably.
The prince hears movement over his shoulder, the sound of a hushed but respectful greeting from the two lookouts who'd escorted him to this tent. Zuko shakes off the desire to turn and see for himself, but he tilts his head slightly to the right in an effort to hear more clearly out of habit.
Getting used to hearing out of his left ear again has been.. somewhat disorienting. Everything has been disorienting.
Zuko is taken out of his thoughts as the sound of footsteps pass beside him. Hakoda turns to face the table in the center of the room, the chief's gaze passing slowly over the messy stack of fire nation military plans laid out on top of it.
The man looks younger than Zuko remembers, but he guesses that does become something of a theme when one travels to the past.
Bato steps up beside the chief, looking at the papers scattered over the table with widened eyes. After a moment, he reaches out and retrieves a page settled amongst the rest, his gaze scanning over it closely.
He leans in closer to the chief, Hakoda acknowledging him with a nod without ever taking his eyes off of the plans.
"We.. already have this piece of info, Hakoda. Fought hard to obtain it a couple of weeks ago. But we've since confirmed that the troop movements on it are accurate, so if this page is legitimate, then..."
Hakoda lets out a breath through his nose, speaking mostly to himself.
"Then the rest are most likely correct as well."
The chief trails a worried glance over the most recently added plans for southern water tribe raids.
Hakoda finally turns his eyes onto Zuko, watching him with an investigative gaze. The young prince ignores the self-conscious urge to try and straighten his hair once again.
"Where did you obtain these documents?"
".. I took them from my father's office, as I was leaving the palace."
Hakoda raises an eyebrow. Zuko takes the wordless cue to elaborate.
"The locks on the doors that they were hidden behind were.. not impressive. They really should've used better security. But I'm glad that they didn't... uh, obviously."
Bato continues slowly sorting through the military plans as he mutters.
"Guess they probably thought no one would actually be stupid enough to steal from a royal palace directly in the heart of the fire nation.."
Zuko could've taken that as an insult, but he would've had to ignore the immense amount of admiration in Bato's tone to make that mistake.
Hakoda looks over at the fire nation military plans scattered across his table, turning to watch the prince of said nation sitting calmly in the chair across from him. He asks the only other question that he needs to know.
"Why?"
Zuko takes in a soft breath as he contemplates his words. In truth, he's been contemplating how to answer this question since he decided to turn his back on the only home he's ever known.
"Because my father is-.. a bad person. But I... am not."
It's taken Zuko a long time to be able to say those words and actually believe them.
Hakoda stares at him with a perceptive gaze. It's an expression that Zuko has seen on Sokka, during the rare occasions when the other boy was actually quiet for long enough to stare in silent contemplation.
After a pregnant pause, Hakoda simply nods.
"Alright then."
Zuko grips anxiously onto the bowl in his lap, his mind a flurry of questions.
Will he be allowed to stay? Or will they just take the plans and send him back out into the tundra on his own? How long would he actually be able to hide if he traveled to the earth kingdom? Would Uncl-
"I'm going to send some scouts out to confirm the legitimacy and accuracy of these troop movements, but in the meantime.. you'll obviously need somewhere to stay, and I imagine that after all of the travelling you've done, you're hungry to the point where just soup won't fill your belly, so. I'm sure my family will be happy to accommodate you as a guest in our home."
Bato gives a skeptical twitch of his head, but doesn't comment.
Hakoda's expression remains calm and genuine. Zuko's mouth drops open just a little at the generosity of the chief's offer.
"I... I- thank you, sir. That would be.. greatly appreciated."
Hakoda responds with a small smile.
"Excellent."
The chief slows his pace to account for Zuko's shorter strides, the young prince spitting out a frustrated huff as he speeds up to offset the difference as well.
The gazes of several curious villagers lock onto the pair as they walk. Zuko doesn't yank the coat's hood up to cover his messy head of hair once more, but it's a near thing.
After a few more moments of painfully awkward silence, Hakoda decides to metaphorically dive in and ask the question that's been on his mind since one of his men ran up to him, stumbling over a mouthful of words that roughly amounted to "eleven year old fire nation prince wants to defect".
"Your parents, did they.. did they hurt you?"
Hakoda sees the tension that settles around Zuko's shoulders like an old friend.
"... not yet. But my father-.. If I had stayed, he would have, eventually."
Hakoda nods, some bleak but understanding expression passing over his features. He mercifully changes the topic.
"Hmm.. travelling from the fire nation to the south pole on your own with limited funds, that's an impressive feat, you know... especially for someone so young like yourself."
Zuko twists distractedly at a fraying thread on the end of his jacket, shaking his head softly.
".. I don't really feel so young anymore."
Hakoda's expression pinches together slightly, his head bowing with another solemn nod.
"No... I would think not."
The chief's perceptive gaze lands on him once more, Zuko fighting the urge to bristle under the close attention. Hakoda's home coming into sight halts their conversation.
The lighthearted bickering of two young voices comes to a stop as Hakoda is noticed.
"Daddy!"
Katara and Sokka both take off in dual sprints, slamming into their father at high-speed and latching onto him with lovingly tight hugs.
Warm laughter rumbles up from Hakoda's chest.
"I see that I've been missed terribly today."
Sokka's voice is muffled slightly, his face pressed firmly into his father's coat.
"So terribly, dad."
Katara nods against her father's side as she chimes in.
"Don't ever leave again."
Hakoda smiles and murmurs something back too quietly for Zuko to hear, but that's when the prince notices just how... small Katara and Sokka look nestled against their father.
They seem to be comprised entirely of short limbs and chubby cheeks...
Ugh. They're horridly cute.
Zuko hears the soft sound of a woman's chuckle by the entryway of Hakoda's home. The prince turns to look, the sight that meets his eyes lifting a dark and concerned piece of pressure away from his mind.
Oh thank Agni. He's not too late.
Kya smiles softly at the hug-pile her family has become, and Zuko takes the moment to bask in his luck.
From the moment he'd realized exactly how many people he could help in the past, Sokka and Katara's mother had been at the forefront of his mind. Zuko had never gotten an exact date from them regarding their mother's death, so the prince had spent more than a few moments on his journey praying that he'd make it to warn them in time.
He'd seen exactly how much pain and grief the water-tribe siblings carried with them over their mother, and while Zuko's situation with his own mother was admittedly much different, he still understood exactly how uniquely horrible the agony of losing a loved one felt, like having your heart ripped out and stolen from your chest while you lived on to suffer its absence.
It was a pain that Zuko wouldn't wish on his worst enemy.
Sokka and Katara had.. accepted him, exactly as he was. They were his friends, and Zuko knew he'd do anything it took to protect them and their family.
The water-tribe boy finally seems to take notice of him. Sokka peels away from his father, nodding at Zuko.
"Who's this?"
Hakoda takes in a breath as the pressure from two small but deceptively strong arms wrapped around his stomach is relieved.
"This is Zuko."
Katara watches the young prince with a mixture of shyness and curiosity.
Sokka wrinkles up his nose as he stares at the top of Zuko's head.
"What happened to your hair? Were you attacked by a dolphin-piranha?"
Zuko's eyebrow twitches violently. He looks pointedly to the messy wolf's tail atop Sokka's head.
"Were you?"
Sokka spits out a quietly affronted gasp.
"Well at least mine isn't-"
Kya shakes her head as she walks closer.
"Sokka, don't be rude."
"Agh, he started it!"
She eyes her son with a mixture of fondness and exasperation.
"No, he didn't."
Hakoda clears his throat gently.
"I've invited Zuko to stay with us for the night, as long as it's alright with you, dear."
Kya nods after a moment, aiming a kind smile at Zuko.
"Of course, we always have room for guests, especially such handsome ones."
Zuko feels the unmistakable heat of a blush on his pale cheeks. Damn it.
Katara hides a snicker behind her gloved hand.
Sokka watches the older boy suspiciously.
"Hmph.. with those gold eyes and that name, somebody might almost think you were from the fire nation..."
Hakoda hides a wince.
"Well.. that's because he is from the fire nation."
Sokka's expression goes gobsmacked. Kya and Katara's eyes widen with him, the chief's wife sending her husband a curious look.
"What??"
The younger boy points an accusatory finger at Zuko.
"Then he's-"
Hakoda interrupts his son gently, glancing at his wife as he speaks.
"He's helping us, Sokka, and he traveled a very long way to do it. There's nothing for you to be worried about."
Sokka opens his mouth to protest, twisting his head to look over at Zuko.
The prince swallows uncomfortably, his eyes locked onto the ground awkwardly.
Sokka deflates, a sigh falling from his mouth.
"... okay."
Everyone seems to glance at each other for a few moments as awkward silence fills the air.
Kya claps her hands together softly.
"Well then, I uh.. I'll go and make sure dinner is ready. Katara, would you like to help?"
Her youngest child nods eagerly, giving one last curious glance to Zuko before she walks off with her mother.
Sokka watches as they step inside, turning back to look at Zuko with narrowed eyes. He brings up two fingers to motion at his own eyes, pointing them back at Zuko as he silently mouths "I'm watching you".
The gesture is undermined slightly when Hakoda picks him up one-handed by the scruff of his jacket and stuffs him under his arm like a particularly stubborn wolf pup.
They walk forward to follow Kya and Katara, Sokka's voice muffled once again.
"Daaad, I was being menacing."
"I know. How many times have I told you to not make menacing faces at our guests?"
"Ugh.. fine."
Zuko swallows back a sigh for old times' sake and follows them inside.
Notes:
Hakoda: "He's helping us, and he travelled a very long way to do it.."
Zuko: "Mofo you have NO IDEA"
😂🙈 I was gonna post this chapter yesterday on father's day so that I could give a hearty thanks to Hakoda and a firm fuck you to Ozai, but oh well...
Chapter 3: Can beauty come from ashes?
Notes:
You can find me on Tumblr under the same name if anyone wants to chat 🤗
by the way, please check out https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilithLucian/pseuds/LilithLucian , she's done some seriously excellent work. 💖
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Kya looks away from the plate in her hands, turning her head to watch as the children chatter from their spot on the floor. Katara's gaze seems to stay firmly planted on Zuko, the prince muttering back brief replies to her curious questions.
Sokka's eyeroll looks borderline painful.
Kya's lip raises with an amused smirk. She twists her head to look at Hakoda beside her as his voice slips out lowly.
"I'll be keeping an eye on him, don't worry."
Kya raises an eyebrow, prompting silently. Hakoda quietly continues.
"Zuko. I.. don't think I've seen the boy say or do anything so far that didn't seem entirely genuine. He seems practically harmless. But that doesn't mean I'll let my guard down."
The chief looks ready to carry on speaking, but Kya stops him with a soft smile.
"I know you wouldn't be doing this if you thought for a moment that the children were at risk. And you know that I wouldn't dare let anything happen to them, either. So between the two of us... I'd say the kids have all the protection they could need, darling."
The smile that Hakoda sends towards her is, like almost every smile that he's directed at Kya over the years that they've known each other, utterly fond and besotted.
"Wisely said, my love."
Kya returns the expression and leans in to steal a gentle kiss.
She draws back and nods towards their new guest.
"And besides.. I think harmless was exactly the right description."
Zuko nods uncomfortably as their daughter pelts him with questions, perpetually sending quick glances at Sokka in response to the younger boy's icy glare.
Zuko sends out a thankful prayer to Agni after the food is sat in front of them. He'll take any reason he can find so that he won't have to talk anymore.
Katara fires off another question before the spoon can even reach his lips.
"What's the fire nation like?"
The room goes entirely silent, the clink of a dropped fork sounding awkwardly loud in the quiet.
Zuko takes the time to choose his words carefully.
"... Well, there are many forests that are.. quite beautiful. And those forests are filled with interesting animals. The weather is a little hot, but usually very pleasant.. I've always enjoyed trips to the beach. And well, the people.. are just-... they're confused."
Zuko tries not to wince at his own words as he finishes lamely. Everyone ignores Sokka's bitter snort.
Katara nods thoughtfully, her eyes dropping to the floor between them for a moment before her gaze returns to Zuko.
"Won't your mom and dad be worried about you now that you're gone?"
Zuko shakes his head dismissively before he can even really think about it.
"No. No, they-.. my mother, she's gone somewhere... somewhere else, I don't know."
Zuko can almost see Kya's curiously concerned look out of the corner of his eye, the prince gripping his fingers around the rough material of his pants leg anxiously.
"And my father isn't really the worrying type, so."
The younger girl doesn't look quite convinced.
"Well, I'm sure he's wondering where you are right now.."
Of that, Zuko has no doubt. He tries to remember the last time that he was innocent enough to believe that all fathers worried for their children, missed them if they were gone.
He summons up a tight smile and nods to Katara.
"You're probably right."
The silence descends once again after that.
Kya hums quietly and turns to her husband.
"So, how was your day, dear?"
Hakoda discreetly swallows down a bite of seal jerky before he answers.
"It was... interesting."
None of them miss the brief glance he sends at Zuko. The chief inclines his head to Kya.
"How was yours?"
"I spoke to Hana earlier, she said that her baby is doing well. I mended one of Sokka's outfits and-"
Katara lets out a short gasp as a bowl slips from her gloved grip.
Soup spills as the bowl shatters, Zuko's whole body going rigid.
An embarrassed flush rises on Katara's cheeks, but it fades as her mother's voice slips out gently.
"Oops! It's perfectly alright, love. I know those bowls can be slippery."
Hakoda smiles at his daughter reassuringly as he stands to retrieve a cloth.
The tension drains slowly out of Zuko's body, a realization filling its place.
None of them... fear each other. There's no worry in the children's eyes, no distress in the lines of their posture.
It's safe here.
Zuko doesn't really notice until then, doesn't see exactly how much fear and terror he's been carrying since he decided to run from Ozai and accepted the fact that if he slowed or faltered for even a moment, he'd be caught and...
Heavy, blazing agony sinking into his skin, the smell of his own flesh roasti-
The knowledge of the fate that Ozai would bestow upon a traitor without hesitation, even his own kin, that is what had driven Zuko through two months of running and hiding and choked-down meals and illusive sleep until he'd made it to the southern water tribe.
Zuko only truly feels the weight of that fear now, as it slips from his shoulders.
Once the shattered shards of the bowl have been cleaned, an excited gleam rises in Sokka's eyes.
"Hey dad, do you think you'll have time to tell us another story tonight?"
Katara's enthusiasm matches her brother's.
"Yeah! Tell us the one about how Tui and La fell in love again.."
"Eegh, he told us that one already, Katara."
"Yeah well, you passed out halfway through anyways, Sokka."
Hakoda chuckles.
"I suppose I might have time for two stories tonight..."
As the sounds of high-pitched bickering and softly murmured words from Kya to her husband drift over Zuko's ears, one last discovery hits him like a bolt of his sister's lightning.
This is it. This is... family.
He'd caught glimpses of it before, in the brief time he'd spent with Aang and his friends, but he sees it now clearer than he ever has.
The fond, freely-given affection. The care and concern. The absolute safety.
He thinks of the people he'd called his own family for so much of his life as he watches these people who love each other so effortlessly, a potent mixture of envy and regret swelling in his chest.
Kya shakes her head softly at her son.
"Sokka, don't keep the sea-prunes all to yourself. Maybe Zuko wants to try one?"
Sokka sighs lowly and loosens his grip on the plate clutched in his hands, sliding it over to Zuko reluctantly.
The prince gives a short nod mostly to himself and retrieves a prune from the plate, raising it to his lips for a test bite.
Several things hit him at once. The first is the horribly sour taste invading his mouth.
The second is the emotion that feels like it's started crawling up his throat again, clawing its way to freedom. It's followed by sorrow, pain, relief, fear, and-
There's still so much he has to do, so many people he has to save, and can he really do all of that when he just feels so damned alone?
A scar that isn't there anymore throbs, and Zuko can feel wetness building up at his eyes, his breathing taking on a desperate edge as he tries to keep tears from spilling over like the emotions swirling hurricane-hard in his heart.
A single tear slips out, sliding down his cheek in a gentle caress.
He struggles with the urge to reach up and wipe it away, praying that no one will notice.
But as always, his prayers go unanswered.
There's the sound of a soft inhale as Katara sees the tear. Zuko finally snaps and reaches a hand up to scrub it off of his face in embarrassed frustration.
Sokka's tone is painfully confused.
"... does the prune really taste that bad?"
Zuko nods through a choked sniffle.
"It's- horrible."
Sokka's face crumples up in consternation.
"Well.. spit it out, man! Don't be a hero..."
Kya's voice twists with sympathy at the exact moment when her face does the same.
"I don't think that's why he's crying, sweetie."
Sokka watches him more closely at that, suspicion fading slowly until pity and hesitant sympathy are all that remain on his face.
Zuko's vision begins to go blurry with wetness, shame filling up a deep pit in his stomach.
Weeping like a child in front of people you barely know. Could you be any more patheti-
His eyes are forced open as a pair of small arms wrap around his neck firmly. Katara rubs a hand over spiky, uneven hair on the back of the prince's head as she settles against him.
Zuko's voice comes out in a wobbly rasp by her shoulder.
"What are you doing?"
A familiar stubborn-confidence fills Katara's voice as she speaks.
"It's okay, Zuko. It's okay..."
The prince spits out a rough exhale, an unnerved sense of disagreement pounding against his skull.
"No, it's not. It's not. You don't even know how wrong you are.."
Katara shakes her head softly, a steady thread of calm reassurance in her young voice.
"It is okay. I promise it is."
Zuko tenses up as his tears spill faster, and Katara just squeezes tighter.
After a few moments, Zuko feels a second pair of arms curl around his side.
Sokka's voice is quieter than Zuko ever remembers hearing it.
"It's all okay, man. It might not feel like it, but it is."
Zuko keeps his body rigid for one more long moment before he breathes out, slowly sinking into the embrace as his sobs intensify.
For the briefest of seconds, Zuko wonders what his father would think of him now, a traitor curled up on the floor and bawling in the arms of the enemy.
But that's when Zuko remembers that he stopped giving any semblance of a damn about what his father thought a long time ago.
Here, in the embrace of his friends, Zuko feels less alone than he has in a long, long time... and as far as he's concerned, that's all that really matters.
Hakoda sees the achingly soft look on his wife's face as she watches their children comfort the fire nation prince that's curled up into a sobbing ball on the floor of their home, sighing quietly to himself.
He supposes it's a good thing that he and Kya have already been having talks about adding a third child into the family.
Notes:
And yes, Kya (eagerly) and Hakoda (reluctantly) join in afterwards to make it their first official group hug 😭
Thank you all so much for the kudos and lovely comments, they are what makes writing really worth it 😊 this whole fic was basically born from me picturing Zuko breaking down in front of the Water Tribe fam, so.. and I definitely have several ideas about things I'd love to see happen in this 'verse, so if y'all are interested in seeing more, lemme know 💕
Chapter 4: Heat of the moment
Notes:
I had a blast writing this chapter, and I'm really proud of it 🤗 I hope you lovely folks enjoy reading it!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Zuko scrubs at a stubborn remnant of food along the edge of a bowl as he kneels in the snow outside, letting the mindless task calm and consume his brain.
"You're up awfully early."
The prince just barely refrains from startling at the sound of Kya's voice behind him. He can still vividly picture the softly apologetic look she'd given when her unexpected presence had pulled a flinch out of him on the day before, and it's not an expression that he particularly wants to see directed at himself again.
Zuko turns to face her with a greeting nod, glancing towards the sun beginning to rise out of the horizon. The hazy morning light illuminates the white expanse of snow and the calmly stirring village around them.
"Firebender habit."
His voice comes out with a slight croak from disuse. Zuko clears his throat self-conciously as Kya nods in understanding and moves to kneel beside him gently in the snow.
She watches him with a shimmer of concern in her eyes, pointing to the soapy bowl in his hands.
"You.. don't have to do that, you know?"
Zuko shakes his head slightly, still scrubbing as he replies.
"I know. I just want to make sure that I'm pulling my weight here."
Kya's searching gaze doesn't leave him.
"... just as long as you know that you don't have to."
Zuko's hands finally still their motions in the soapy water. He knows exactly how true Kya's words are.
He doesn't have to earn his place with them. For the first time in his life, Zuko is with people who truly expect nothing else from him in return for their help. They just.. want Zuko to be himself.
That knowledge lifts an impossibly heavy weight from his chest, a weight that he's carried for as long as he can remember.
Zuko turns to face her with a soft smile.
"I know."
Kya returns a pleased smile of her own, finally seeming satisfied with that answer. She slides her hand over his uneven hair affectionately, pointing to the small pile of dirty dishes that's sat in the snow beside him.
"Hand me one of those. I am pretty skilled at this by now, after all."
The prince nods and extends a plate towards her, carefully nudging a bowl of dishwater closer to them.
Kya dips a rag into the water, but pulls her fingers back almost immediately with a quiet exclamation.
Zuko's eyebrows shoot up in worry.
"The water isn't too hot, is it? I'm sorry, I'm used to getting it-"
Kya reassures him with a quick shake of her head, letting her hand slip back under the surface of warm water.
"No, not at all.. It actually feels quite nice."
She lifts the wet rag out of the water and squeezes it over the plate, a gentle chuckle slipping past her lips.
"If anyone else in the village finds out just how useful your firebending is, the whole tribe is going to start wanting turns with you at their home."
The prince's lip pulls up into an entertained smirk, but his amusement fades as he catches sight of the man watching them from a slight distance.
The older water-tribe man's wrinkled features are twisted into something bitter as his gaze locks onto Zuko, staring for another short moment before he pushes back into his own hut brusquely.
Zuko dips his head, an uncomfortable pit forming in his chest. He attempts to keep the sudden and sharp weariness that's crept into his heart out of his voice.
"Perhaps they will."
Kya slows her movements, sensing the shift in the air between them. She brushes her thumb against the back of Zuko's hand as she speaks.
"Once they get a chance to know you like we have, they'll see the same thing that my family has seen."
The prince turns to look at her after a moment, a question softly showing in his eyes.
Kya smiles.
"A fine young man.. one that's worth knowing."
Zuko exhales faintly, a shaky but grateful smile growing slowly on his face.
Kya gives his smaller hand a tender squeeze, comfortable silence settling between them as they begin washing once again.
Zuko sorts the last cleaned plate off into a small cabinet just before Katara and Sokka burst into the room, a flurry of chatter between them.
"Dad, come on! We're losing daylight here.."
Hakoda shuffles into the room moments after Sokka's whine, rubbing at his bleary eyes.
The chief's son sighs dramatically at his father's sluggish pace.
"I don't understand why you still have to come with us. We're not even going out that far!"
Hakoda tries to infuse parental authority into his voice, but a man who was recently woken from sleep by a pair of sharp knees to the abdomen is only capable of so much.
"If I let you go alone and you end up in the digestive tract of a polar bear-dog, you know I'll never hear the end of it from your mother. I simply can't risk that."
Kya rolls her eyes as discreetly as possible from the other side of the room. Sokka evidently feels no need for such subtlety as he lets out a slow (and loud) groan.
"Be serious, dad. We're not babies anymore, and we'll be fine as long as it's the three of us together."
Hakoda pauses suddenly at that, sharing a surprised glance with Kya before he turns his curious gaze back onto Sokka.
"The three of you? So.. Zuko is coming along to play as well?"
"Yeah. You're coming too, aren't you, Zuko?"
Zuko blinks confusedly as four pairs of blue eyes lock onto him curiously.
"Uhhh-"
Sokka whirls back around to face his father with a definitive nod.
"See? He's coming."
Hakoda surveys Zuko's wide-eyed expression for another short moment before he inclines his head agreeably.
"Alright, run along. But be back home before it gets late."
Sokka looses a victorious exclamation and sprints outside after the words have barely left his father's mouth, Katara sending an excited grin towards Zuko before she follows her sibling speedily.
Zuko's amber eyes flit between the chief and the spot where his children had bolted outside, confusion and a touch of hesitance filling his gaze.
"I.. I'll watch them closely, sir. I promise I won't let anything happen to them, you can count on m-"
Hakoda gently interrupts what seems to be turning into a very passionate speech, his lips quirking upwards fondly.
"I don't doubt for a second that they'll be absolutely safe in your care, Zuko."
Any remaining hesitance vanishes from the prince's eyes with those words, warm gratitude taking its place.
After a moment, Hakoda gestures outside towards the two shrinking shapes in the distance.
"They.. will be long gone any time now, though..."
Zuko's eyes widen, his head twisting around before he catches sight of a pair of gloves that are quickly snatched into his hands.
"Oh! Of course, you're very right, sir, I'll be- hey! Slow down and wait for me!"
Hakoda fails to resist a grin as Zuko rushes outside and takes off into a vaguely panicked run after the children. Kya's grin matches his own, though it looks to be perhaps even wider and prouder.
Kya comes to stand beside her husband, the total and rare silence of their home seemingly setting a wheel to turning inside her head.
"... do you have anything pressing to do at the moment?"
The chief shakes his head thoughtfully, a knowing gleam shining in his eyes.
"I'm free. Why.. did you have something in mind?"
Kya's faux-considerate hum tells him all that he needs to know.
Zuko lays motionless in the snow, waiting patiently. After a few moments, he hears the distinct crunch of snow underneath boots.
The prince springs up out of the snow indentation he's hidden himself in, lobbing a snowball as gently as he can while still sending it flying.
It strikes Sokka's unsuspecting back with a soft thud. The water-tribe boy whips around with gobsmacked disbelief on his face, an expression which only intensifies once he sees his attacker.
"Aw, no way! You got the drop on me?? But.. how- you're like, the most twitchy person I've ever met, and your hair is like an expertly crafted fishing lure-"
Zuko brushes off the remaining snow on his clothes with humble indifference.
Sokka drops his own tightly clutched snowball with petulant disappointment.
"Just beginner's luck, that's all.. and we seriously need to work on your snowball-tossing skills. You throw like a girl."
His sentence is barely finished when a rapid volley of snowballs are driven into his back forcefully.
The chief's son turns around unhurriedly, his mouth dropped open in an offended gape.
Katara snickers through her proud grin as she's noticed, stood atop a small hill of snow.
"I think my throwing skills are juuust fine, Sokka."
Sokka shudders, wiggling his arms and yanking at his coat in an attempt to remove some of the tundra remaining on his clothes.
"Ooh... that was cold in more ways than one, baby sister."
Katara is sent into another fit of giggles as she slowly descends the small hill of snow, her cheeks flushed from a combination of giddy amusement and brisk winter air.
Sokka's eye is drawn to his sister's bare right hand as she ambles closer.
"What happened to your glove?"
Katara's laughter trails off gently as she turns her attention onto the missing glove, taking a quick glance back up to the mountain of snow behind her.
"Oh.. I must've lost it when I was digging in the snow."
She flexes her hand, fingers clenching numbly. A slight wince is forced out of her, the fading adrenaline leaving her nerves more aware of the penetrating cold.
Sokka rolls his eyes without any real annoyance, already beginning to pull his fingers loose from one of his own gloves.
"Here, put on one of mine before frostbite gets your fingers more blackened than dad's cooking."
Zuko hesitates for a moment, gathering his courage as he nods to Katara's hand.
"Wait. I.. can help with that. But, only if it's okay with you, of course."
Katara doesn't hesitate in the slightest, curiosity filling her voice at his offer.
"Sure! I'd really appreciate that, Zuko."
Sokka's eyes narrow slightly, tinged with cautious suspicion. For once, Zuko actually doesn't mind it. In truth, Sokka's fiercely protective nature towards all of his loved ones has always been one of his most respectable traits in the prince's eyes.
Zuko shuffles closer to Katara, bringing his hand up in between them slowly. Every tendon across his fingers and palm tenses as he attempts to firebend more carefully than he ever has before.
Concentration etches onto Zuko's face, a spark being pulled out of thin air just before a small flame flickers to life above his hand.
Katara's eyes widen, lifting her numb hand to hover near the fire.
"That is... amazing."
Zuko carefully keeps his breathing even and calm as a warm, pleased feeling settles in his chest after he hears the gentle wonder in Katara's voice.
Before, when the prince had joined Aang and the rest of his friends, they.. always watched his fire with something dark in their eyes, a deeply distrustful suspicion that never truly faded, even after they'd begun to trust the boy himself.
And Zuko would never blame them for that. The only person he could fault for his friends feeling that way resided in the mirror, a truth that he was intimately aware of.
But that didn't make it hurt any less. Didn't make the fear and resentment that he began to harbor towards his own inner fire feel any less unnatural and unsettling.
The way that Katara watches his flames now, though.. the eagerly interested awe on her face warms some deep and integral part of his being, and Zuko knows for certain that he'll do whatever it takes to make sure that his friends never have to look at this part of him with that dark suspicion ever again.
He hears the soft crunch of snow as Sokka steps closer, the other boy raising his gloved hand to hang near the flickering heat. The chief's son aims a slowly growing grin at Zuko.
"Yeah... I suppose amazing sounds about right."
Kya raises her leg to drape it across Hakoda's waist, settling her bare skin against his as the faint sheen of sweat cools rapidly on their bodies. She lays her head in the cradle of his neck and shoulder, bumping her nose against his jaw softly.
"Do you think we should go ahead and get dressed? The kids could be back soon.."
Hakoda's quiet chuckle flows past her ear.
"Are you and I thinking of the same children? The ones that we typically have to drag back inside before the sun goes down?"
Kya grins against her husband's collarbone.
"True. Well, we haven't had the time for a moment like this in too long.. I wasn't terribly keen on rushing it anyways."
She flattens her hand on his chest, the thrum of his heartbeat steady underneath her fingers.
"You'll have to leave again soon, won't you?"
Hakoda's sigh is distinctly tired.
"Yes. The information that Zuko gave us was.. unnerving, to say the least. As soon as we have a solid plan in place, I want to go with the men personally to handle it."
Kya nods in forlorn understanding, her eyes closing as she nestles in closer to her husband. She decides to move the topic onto a potentially happier subject.
"Do... you think that Zuko is going to be leaving soon? Or rather staying indefinitely, maybe?"
Hakoda hums thoughtfully, trailing his fingers over Kya's shoulder.
"I'm not sure.. I suppose we'd have to ask him."
Kya chews her lip softly in contemplation.
".. I hope he stays. I think we'd miss him if he was gone... don't you?"
Hakoda gives an affectionately bemused shake of his head.
"Somehow I don't think we'll get the chance to find out if we'd miss him or not, darling."
Zuko sucks in a deep, steadying breath as he gazes out over the seemingly endless expanse of snow and ice ahead of him.
He's starting to get the sinking feeling that finding Aang won't be as easy as he'd hoped.
A voice cutting through the air pulls him from his worried thoughts.
"Zuko! All of that snowy combat made us hungry, let's head home, c'mon!"
The young prince takes one last long and pleading look at the icy tundra that swallows up everything around him before he turns away and begins treading through the snow.
Katara and Sokka wait patiently (and impatiently), taking up pace beside the prince as he meets them.
Zuko feels his mind drifting as they trudge through the snow, the sounds of whipping wind and squabbling sibling conversation washing over him.
For a moment there, when he'd been covered in snow and fighting back laughter with his friends, Zuko had almost been able to forget every single one of his worries and troubles, setting them aside while the task of simply making Sokka and Katara smile briefly became his most important priority in the world.
He'd felt... like a child. Zuko tries to remember the last time he'd experienced that feeling, but his memory fails him.
Zuko had never been allowed to feel or act like a child, even when he actually was one.
He cannot let himself lose focus of his responsibility, he will not risk forgetting his mission and the friends that he still has to save, but... in the end, this is what he's fighting for. He's fighting for family dinners with loving endearments and jovial conversation, for childish moments of joy in the snow.
If meeting his friends and the family that they form together has taught him anything.. It is that those moments are absolutely worth fighting for.
A pair of gloved fingers tapping gently on his shoulder catches the prince's attention.
"Zuko? Are you feeling alright?"
His eyebrows furrow together as he turns his head to look at Katara.
"... why do you ask?"
She raises an eyebrow of her own.
"You've gone pretty quiet for the last few minutes."
Understanding rises to his features, Zuko's expression closing off slightly as he responds.
"Oh. Um, yes, I'm perfectly fine. I just.. have a few things on my mind, that's all."
Katara shifts her gaze onto Sokka, some indecipherable thought being shared between the siblings with a glance.
Sokka smooths a hand over his hair out of nervous habit, speaking up hesitantly.
".. hey, uh... you can talk to us about.. y'know, anything that's bothering you, if you want. We know that grown-ups can be hard to talk to sometimes, so."
Katara chimes in once it becomes clear that Sokka has said all that he intends to, the young waterbender keeping her tone as light and soft as possible.
"You can trust us, is.. what he's trying to say."
Zuko's expression turns undeniably fond, his response being delivered without a moment of hesitation.
"I do trust you. Both of you."
Katara's smile is warm and pleased, though Sokka is noticeably silent (a decidedly rare event)
"... but why?"
A quietly defeated groan slips out of Katara at her brother's words, the older sibling shrugging defensively as he continues.
"I mean really! You've only known us for.. barely half of a week."
Zuko's sigh is equal parts exasperation and amusement.
"It feels like it's been much longer than that for some reason..."
Sokka's face scrunches up in consternation, but his face evens out with something approaching respect in his eyes.
"Well... I can't say it's not weird, but. You won't regret putting your trust in us. That's a promise."
Zuko nods solemnly. He knows for a fact that Sokka's confidence in those words is far from empty.
As their conversation tapers off, they reach the edge of the tribe.
Zuko's bubble of momentary ease is punctured by the first glare he receives. As the three of them venture further into the village, he's greeted with more.
Not all of them are obvious about it, but subtlety doesn't make the hateful stares sting any less.
Zuko can sense Sokka's displeasure and Katara's steadily growing frustration beside him. He doesn't have to guess when her breaking point arrives, because Katara shoves out her tongue almost violently at the next person who sneers at Zuko.
Sokka is momentarily torn between shock and pride, taking his baby sister's lead after a short moment as he sticks out his tongue and adds in a particularly rude gesture he'd learned from Bato for good measure.
Zuko's smile is small, but as warm as the flames that fall from his fingertips.
Notes:
I just want to thank every single awesome person who left kudos and comments, they are the best inspiration in the world and they mean so much to me 💙 I wanted this chapter to take a little time for some fluff and bonding, because well... next chapter is gonna get pretty serious.
Chapter 5: don't let go
Notes:
Well, it's time for shit to Get Real TM 🔥and by the way, I'm sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter out 🙈 I've been dealing with some health issues that have seriously stymied my ability to focus and write.. or do much of anything, really. But! I am committed to finishing this story, so 😊 I will do my best to give it the end it deserves.
(And I'm on Tumblr under the same name if anyone wants to chat <3)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Hakoda stalks forward, metal clanging underneath his boots as he stomps along the deck of a fire nation ship. He looks around at the corpses of soldiers dressed in red, their clothes now stained an even deeper shade of crimson.
A flag sways above them all, the black raven emblazoned on its material overlooking the bloody results of battle. Hakoda sighs with grim satisfaction.
"Chief."
Bato's voice catches Hakoda's focus, the water tribe leader walking over at his friend's call.
"What is it?"
"It's the prisoner.. he wants to talk."
The chief nods, following alongside Bato as they pass by the rest of the tribe's warriors to enter the commander's cabin. The only remaining captive of the ship thrashes against the steel chains he's been wrapped in, enraged grunts slipping from the man's mouth.
Hakoda's lip curls in distaste, his patience draining at the animalistic display.
"I've been told you wish to speak to me. So, speak."
The man's thrashing halts, but his rage only seems to grow.
"Speak? How dare you command me like some witless dog!! I am Yon Rha, leader of the most deadly fleet in my nation! Cities have crumbled under my orders. Medals have been heaped upon my great nam-"
Yon Rha is silenced suddenly as Bato's fist cracks into his jaw, the soldier's head snapping back from the hit. The water tribe warrior shakes out his hand with a wince, his tone deceptively conversational as he speaks.
"Oh no, please don't let me interrupt you. Continue."
The fire nation commander settles his eyes on Bato with an apoplectic glare, his lips parting as he prepares to spew more vitriol. Bato leans in to speak again before the other man can get out a single word.
"I am very impressed with your accolades so far, by the way."
Yon Rha lets his mouth fall shut, the anger in his eyes turning icy as he shifts his gaze onto Hakoda.
"You didn't even attack the right ship, you imbeciles."
Hakoda's brow furrows, a flash of concern slipping into his mind at those words.
"What are you talking about?"
Yon Rha sneers, his tone venomous.
"Our ship was ordered to attack your tribe before, but those orders were changed as soon as we learned that military information had been compromised last month. Your people weren't our targets anymore."
Hakoda stares him down, his shoulders set in a tight, sturdy line.
"Lies. Your ship has maintained course to my tribe for the entire time our scouts have watched yo-"
Yon Rha snaps against his bindings, derision coating every syllable of his words.
"To distract you from the real threat! We could've turned your village to cinders and moved on to the next target by now if we'd really been trying. Our ship has been travelling at half-speed ever since we got our new orders."
Hakoda's fist clenches so tightly that his nails draw blood out of his palm, the chief struggling to hold onto the last shred of his composure.
"Then who is going to attack my tribe?"
Yon Rha shakes his head with a dismissive snort.
"It doesn't matter who. The only thing that matters now.. is that they will make it to your home before you do."
For just a moment, Hakoda's eyes go glassy with disbelief and fear. When the chief's eyes refocus, they land on Yon Rha with blistering intensity.
The satisfied grin slides off of the fire nation commander's face rapidly, his chains rattling as he squirms nervously.
"Lis- listen, I can help you. I know what weapons they're outfitted with, I can tell you-"
Hakoda steps forward calmly.
"It would've been you. If things had been just a little different, it would've been you coming to burn my home to the ground..."
Yon Rha shifts against his chains uselessly, panicked realization finally breaking through in his mind.
"Please, I just- I ask only for mercy!"
Hakoda takes another step forward, steel showing in his voice.
"Would you have shown mercy? To anyone? My family? My children?"
Yon Rha nods feverishly, his eyes wide with desperation.
"Yes! I would've let them go!! I would've-"
Hakoda cuts him off with fury in his eyes.
"Now that is a lie."
The chief snatches up Yon Rha's dagger from the table it was laid on, a blade that would've taken Kya's life in another time.
Yon Rha gasps as the dagger is driven into his chest, a bloody gurgle slipping from his lips.
Hakoda turns away from the dying commander and faces Bato with worry lining his usually stoic face.
"We have to get back home. Now."
Cold wind numbs Zuko's nose as he walks through the village, a bucket of water gripped in his hand. He slows his pace as the sheer quiet around him becomes almost defeaning.
Everything's so still... and calm in a way that Zuko isn't used to in the slightest.
He finds his gaze drifting upwards, slowly passing over the hundreds of stars shining through the dark.
Zuko exhales softly, trying to memorize every feeling and sensation of the moment. He wants to remember this...
This light, warm feeling that hums in his chest even as the icy wind nips at his skin.
The way that even just the thought of Kya, Hakoda, Katara, and Sokka makes that feeling grow warmer, this feeling of.. safety that feels so out of place in his heart.
This sense of... peace, he supposes it's called.
In the blink of an eye, that peace is shattered.
A scream cuts through the quiet air, followed quickly by the roar of fire violently bursting to life.
Zuko's heart sets to pounding against his chest, terror rushing through his veins as a nightmare comes to life before his eyes. An orange glow rises in the distance as the village begins to burn.
A horrified whisper slips from his lips.
"Agni please, no..."
Another scream splits into the air and Zuko bursts into a run, the bucket of water spilling over the ground as it's dropped.
The prince's feet carry him towards the fire as Hakoda's voice creeps into his mind, the phantom weight of the older man's palm settling heavy on his shoulder.
"I have to leave for a short while... but as long as I'm gone, I'd like for you to watch after my family. I may not know much about you, but one thing i know for sure is that you're a man of your word. You're awfully young to know as much about honor and loyalty as you do.. but I'd be comforted to know that someone with a heart as brave as yours was keeping an eye out for my kin."
Zuko's own words echo back into his thoughts, a warning or a worried reminder, or one in the same.
"I will, sir. I promise."
The prince pushes himself to run faster, panic and adrenaline spiking through his system.
He'd thought he had prevented Kya's death by helping Hakoda, but what if he'd simply delayed it instead?
'Have I made things worse? Did I-.. If Katara or Sokka die because of what I've done to change the future...'
Nausea explodes in Zuko's stomach at that thought, his boots skidding along the ground as he slams to a stop in front of Hakoda's home. He snatches up the cloth in the entryway, peering inside.
"Kya?! Sokka??"
The silent sounds of an empty home is his only response. The horror twisting in his guts worsens.
Zuko spins and pans his gaze over everything nearby, sprinting closer to the sounds of fighting and flames.
A burning arrow whizzes past Zuko's head, sending the prince sprawling back behind cover.
He sees two water tribe warriors battling against a firebender in the distance, flames from the fight spilling out and engulfing a nearby home.
Zuko sucks in a shuddering breath and looses an ear-splitting shout.
"Sokka?! Katara?!"
Only the sounds of combat hits the prince's ears. He slumps back against a wall, dread weighing down on him like an anchor.
A girlish scream carries across the distance and his heart almost stills in his chest.
"Zuko!!"
The prince bolts to his feet, rushing towards the sound of Katara's shout.
He runs until he's stopped by a wall of flame in between two burning huts, his arms sharply swiping apart as he bends the fire out of his path.
The flames clear from his sight and Zuko's blood boils at the image revealed to him.
Two fire nation soldiers, two blades pointed warningly at Kya and Katara as the small girl hides behind her mother.
Zuko's body moves before he even registers the decision to act, his fists driving forward as fireballs launch past the prince's knuckles.
One of the soldiers cries out as fire washes over his back, the second man leaping out of the way before Zuko's attack connects.
The prince rushes in to capitalize on the wounded soldier, his pace halting suddenly as he's forced to deflect blasts of fire from the uninjured swordsman.
Zuko dodges backwards just before the wounded soldier swipes a blade at his throat, the prince aiming a scream at Kya and Katara.
"Run!!"
Zuko dodges again, ducking as a sword slashes past his head. Kya keeps a tight grip on Katara's shaking arm as she tries to slip away, but the second soldier blocks her path instantaneously.
The prince spits out an angered growl as the soldier closes in on the girls, but that momentary lapse of concentration is all it takes for the wounded soldier to slam Zuko into the ash-covered snow.
Zuko yanks his head out of the way just as the sword pierces into the ground beside his face, quickly wrapping an arm around the blade to keep it stilled.
He locks his eyes onto Kya and her daughter as the soldier advances on them with his sword held at the ready, the prince grunting as a boot is driven into his stomach to hold him in place.
The boy struggles to move, his mind spinning as he tries to figure out his next attack. The prince chokes out one more desperate yell.
"You have to fi- fight! Do something!!"
Kya stands tall in front of Katara, shielding her daughter as the soldier approaches.
The man reaches out to grab at Kya, but he's stopped as a dart of water splashes onto his face and instantly freezes over his eyes and mouth. He shudders in fear and begins scrambling to pull the ice off, Kya looking down in shock to see Katara's outstretched hand aimed at the soldier.
Kya sees the desperation and panic lining her daughter's face and hesitates for only a second longer, reaching down to grab up a heavy stone.
The ice on the soldier's face shatters as Kya slams the rock into his head, robbing him of his consciousness.
Zuko allows his focus to shift back onto the man above him, straining with effort as he slides out from under the soldier's boot and drives his feet up into the man's crotch.
The soldier doubles over with a pained shout, leaving his head within striking distance as Zuko slams his boots into the man's face. The fire nation swordsman finally drops to the ground, incapacitated.
The prince huffs out a short curse as he pulls himself to his feet, Kya and Katara's worried gazes clamped onto him.
"Are you two alright?"
Kya gives a short nod, and that's when Zuko's mind finally has a moment to realize what's missing from this situation.
".. where's Sokka?"
Kya pulls Katara closer to her side, her face twisting with some emotion that Zuko can't name.
"I don't know. He ran off looking for you just before the attack began. He's.. he's out there by himself."
Zuko feels a pit forming rapidly in his guts, the image of a bloodied Sokka laid out on a smouldering battlefield assaulting his mind.
Kya glances at the unconscious soldiers, her head shaking slightly.
"They... they didn't seem as if they wanted to kill us, I think.. they wanted Katara and I as hostages."
Zuko's eyebrows pull together as he thinks.
'They must've been scouting us for a while if they knew exactly who the chief's family was and where to find them.. and if it really is Hakoda's family that they're going after, then...'
The prince sets his gaze on Kya as she holds Katara tight, determination easing his decision.
".. I'm going to find Sokka. You two stay here, and stay safe."
Two pairs of worried blue eyes land on him at that, disbelief running through Kya's tone.
"You can't go after him on your own, Zuko! Zuko!!"
The prince sprints after the bright glow of flames in the distance once again, waving down a group of approaching water tribe men as he goes.
"The chief's family is back there, protect them!"
His heart thunders in his chest as he runs, the sound of Kya and Katara worriedly screaming still ringing in his ears.
Zuko narrowly avoids several pockets of battle, slipping through the smoke and shadows as he goes.
He finally slows his movements as he nears the communal well, casting his eyes around the area.
'If Sokka was coming after me, he should be here.. or nearby...'
Zuko scans over his surroundings fruitlessly, looking back past his shoulder as he wonders if he'd missed the other boy amongst the battleground.
He pauses as the faintest of sounds hits his ears, a cut-off shout caught on the wind.
Zuko sprints ahead, his feet sinking into the snow as he climbs a small mound of it and peers into the distance.
His breath catches in his throat as he sees Sokka thrashing in mid-air, a soldier in red holding the struggling boy aloft.
The chief's son goes suddenly still as he's struck hard against the back of his head.
Zuko twists around, hollering as he spots a pair of water tribe warriors in the near distance.
"Hey!! One of the soldiers has Sokka! He's here, help! They're over here!!"
The water tribe warriors pause as they look to Zuko, a flash of hope stirring in the prince's chest.
That hope dies as the men's faces twist into something hateful, their blue eyes dark as they watch Zuko. After a moment, their backs turn as they rush towards the sounds of combat.
The prince feels something distinctly like a punch in the gut, disbelief and anger washing over him.
'They weren't even willing to believe a single word from my mouth...'
Zuko shakes his head, turning to see the fire nation soldier marching off into the dark with Sokka clutched under his arm.
The prince chases after them without a second thought.
Zuko slows his pace, tiredly sucking in lungfuls of icy air as he squints to see through the sheets of snow beginning to fall around him.
He just barely notices the droplets of bright red trailing through the snow, equal parts anger and horror rocking through his chest at the sight of what must be Sokka's blood.
The prince clenches his trembling fingers and marches on through the pale wasteland.
Fear and desperation drive him through the snow, like knives at his back. His eyes stay pried open even once they've begun to burn from the cold wind, his gaze locked carefully onto the trail of scarlet that keeps getting harder to see under layers of more snowflakes.
He suddenly notices the droplets getting larger, his heart ramping up a few paces in response. Zuko stomps through the snow, struggling to see clearly in the moonlit tundra.
The blood trail leads right over the edge of a steep, ice-covered cliff, and it's only then that Zuko realizes the mistake he's made.
The sound of a sword being pulled from its sheath behind him confirms his error.
The prince turns with frustrated resignation, facing down the fire nation soldier blocking the only path back to safety. Zuko catches sight of a blue lump dropped carelessly in the snow next to the soldier, and it doesn't take him long to recognize the motionless form as Sokka.
Rage rises up in his throat like spreading fire, but Zuko does his best to reign it in.
He spots the bloodied cloth wrapped around the soldier's fist, the prince berating himself for falling over such a simple trick.
He'd been blinded by more than falling snow as he stomped himself right into this trap, and so Zuko sends out a silent apology into the universe, to all the wiser men who've tried so hard to save him from his temper, and from this moment.
His uncle's voice rings out in his head, the words sharper and clearer now as a far-away memory than they'd been even in the seconds after he'd first heard them.
"You mustn't keep letting yourself be ruled by your emotions. Our feelings help us figure out what it is that we must do... but it is unwise to let emotions make our decisions for us, nephew."
Zuko takes one last look at Sokka's unusually still body before he steps forward, a mask of calm settling over the prince's youthful features.
The element of surprise went over the cliff's edge along with that misleading blood trail, but Zuko has one more trick up his sleeve. For Sokka's sake and his own, it'll have to be enough.
The fire nation soldier tightens his grip on the blade as Zuko approaches, the man's voice steady as it passes through the metal face-plate.
"I'm sorry that it had to come to this, child."
Zuko's pace doesn't falter as he replies.
"So am I."
Zuko throws his hand up rapidly, a fireball bursting forward at the soldier's head.
The man jerks his body to the side on instinct, Zuko lunging after him to take advantage of the distraction.
The prince manages to pry two of the soldier's fingers away from the grip of the blade, but the man recovers before Zuko can remove a third.
Zuko's vision goes fuzzy as an elbow is driven into the top of his head, the soldier stepping back as he yanks his sword out of the boy's grip, dragging the sharp steel along Zuko's outstretched arm as he does.
A short gasp is knocked out of the prince as he stumbles backwards, the unsettling warmth of wet blood traveling down his arm.
The soldier shakes his head in shock, eyeing Zuko more intently after their exchange.
"A firebender? So... you're a traitor, then. And just when I thought you'd earned yourself such an honorable death.."
Zuko's arm trembles from the pain, panic flitting across his face as the soldier advances. The prince raises his uninjured arm and brings it down with a slash, a whip of fire coming to life with the motion.
The soldier redirects it with a wave of his hand, sending the fire off into the air. Determination flashes inside Zuko's eyes, the prince roaring as he sends out volley after volley of fire, striking flames to life and driving them towards the soldier.
The soldier cuts through the flames with ease, a shout ripping from Zuko's throat as the blade slices at his side. The prince staggers back in pain, drawing closer to the cliff's edge.
He falls to his knees, his small body curling in on itself in defensive instinct. Zuko drives his hand under the snow, desperation sending both his heart and mind into panicked overdrive.
The soldier comes to a stop inches from Zuko, raising his blade and preparing to bring it down with one final stab.
The prince jerks up, snatching his hand from the snow and flinging a palm-full of melted and boiling snow at the man above him. The soldier swipes out his hand in an attempt to deflect the flames he expects, only to be met with a gush of scalding water splashing through the metal armor covering his face.
A pained scream pierces out from behind the soldier's helmet, his arm darting out to slash blindly with the sword as he staggers away.
Zuko pulls himself to his feet, his breathing shaky as he watches the soldier unknowingly stumble closer to the cliff's edge.
After a few seconds of desperate consideration, Zuko sprints forward with a growl and launches his body into the soldier's side. The hit sends the man toppling off of the cliff, the sound of metal cracking violently against ice ringing out after a delayed moment.
Zuko slumps over into the snow, gasping as pain and exhaustion rip through his body. He lays there for several long seconds, eyes fighting to stay open as his blood soaks the icy powder beneath him.
The sound of Sokka's weak and muffled groan from a few feet away is the only thing that keeps Zuko moving.
The prince drags himself along the ground, grabbing onto Sokka in relief. He pulls the other boy's messy wolf-tail out of the way, checking the freshly bruised skin along the back of his head.
Zuko nods to himself, sucking in a steadying breath before he struggles up to his feet. He lifts Sokka, dragging the slowly-waking boy up to stand on wobbly legs.
One short prayer to Agni later, the two of them stumble off into the freezing dark.
Zuko grips onto the arm that Sokka has draped over his shoulder, the prince wincing with each step as the movement pulls at the skin by his wounds. The slow trickle of blood coming down his fingers and side acts as yet another persistent reminder of his injuries.
A freshly conscious and coherent Sokka chooses that moment to speak up.
"Zuko.. I uh, think we're going in the wrong direction."
The prince's footsteps falter, both boys coming to a stop on shaky legs.
"Oh... shit."
Sokka weakly pats the other boy's shoulder, squinting and struggling to see through the intensifying snowfall himself.
"It's alright, bud.. you're leaking some pretty crucial stuff over there, and I think I'm concussed, so neither of us is really in map-drawing shape at the moment."
Zuko's knees give out, Sokka only barely managing to avoid collapsing onto the ground with him.
The prince's body shakes with an exhausted shiver, his limbs curling closer to his body in a futile attempt to stay warm.
"Yo- you have to keep moving, Sokka. Find your way back to the village, I'll be alright.. until you can send help."
The chief's son lets out a weary sigh as he gingerly lowers himself to his knees in the snow beside Zuko.
"Y'know, I really thought we'd been getting to know each other better lately... but if you actually think I'd leave you on your own out here, then you don't have a clue about me at all."
Zuko makes an admirable attempt to roll his eyes through the pain, muttering bitterly to himself.
"Stubborn bastard..."
Sokka's lip raises into a tired smirk.
"Talking about yourself over there?"
Zuko shakes his head in defeat, bringing up his uninjured hand to hover in between himself and the other boy. A flame weakly flickers to life above his palm.
The prince sucks in a fatigued breath and Sokka quickly reaches out to close Zuko's palm, the chief's son keeping his tone unusually somber as he speaks.
"Stop it. You're spent.. now just focus on conserving what little energy you have left."
Zuko stares defiantly at the other boy, fiery gold settled on unwavering blue as their eyes meet.
"I can't stop. I have to keep you safe. I promised."
Sokka watches the prince with befuddled curiosity for a long moment, finally nodding in understanding as he looks at the determination lining Zuko's exhausted features.
"Okay... I won't make you break your promise."
Sokka suddenly pulls the prince into a tight embrace, settling against the other boy.
Zuko's eyes go wide as he stares out over Sokka's shoulder, his arms hung limply at his sides.
"What are you doing?"
Sokka lays his chin on Zuko's own shoulder, nodding reasonably against the prince.
"I'm letting you help me. Sharing in this delightful body heat of yours.. the village will send someone to find us, so we just gotta stay warm until then, okay?"
Zuko nods along after a few hesitant seconds, slowly raising his uninjured arm to curl around Sokka's back.
The two of them go silent, the quiet and stillness solidifying around them in a tight grip.
The prince shivers as cold wind whips around them forcefully, blood trickling down his skin, extremities beginning to numb from the temperature.
As the minutes drag on, Zuko feels the undeniable weight of fear crawling up his spine and wrapping around his heart.
Words slip from his mouth without his permission.
"... I don't want to die."
Sokka's arms tighten around him, the other boy's voice steady beside his ear.
"I won't let that happen. You're not gonna die, Zuko."
The prince shakes, warm tears welling up in his eyes.
"Just-.. please hold tight. Don't let go."
Sokka curls his fingers into the material of Zuko's coat tightly, an unspoken promise made in that moment.
Zuko closes his eyes against the tears and quiets his voice.
"Don't let go.. don't let go... don't let go...."
Zuko slips in and out of consciousness as noise penetrates through to his mind, his groggy brain struggling to parse information.
"We found them! They're here, hurry!!"
The prince tries to open his eyes, but tears that have turned to ice keeps them sealed. His mind only registers the feel of Sokka's arms still wrapped tightly around him once something begins pulling them apart.
Zuko is lifted from the ground into a pair of strong, slender arms. Long and soft hair brushes against his face. He remembers this feeling.
"... Mama?"
Kya's voice drifts out, warm and kind, the only way he's ever heard it.
"It's alright, darling. I've got you."
Zuko only manages to whisper three short words before unconsciousness reclaims him.
"Don't let go."
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading 💙 I've been utterly joyous about the awesome reaction that all you wonderful folks have given me and this story, and that's what has made every ounce of work and writing worth it 🤗 I love hearing your thoughts about the story and any of your favorite lines/moments, so lemme know in a comment if you have a free minute 😘
Chapter 6: Fallen grace
Notes:
✨ You all helped the story hit 1000 kudos! Woohoo!! ✨
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The steady beat of his heart leads Zuko back into consciousness. The slow, hazy return of awareness hits him first, followed sharply by the roaring ache of pain down his arm and over his side.
The prince opens his eyes, wincing against the dulled brightness of daylight creeping into the room. He shifts his body, the pain from his protesting wounds pulling a weak gasp from his throat.
Sokka's voice cuts through the fog to reach Zuko's ears.
"Hey! You're awake.."
The firebender turns his head gingerly, his slowly-adjusting eyesight revealing chief Hakoda's son sat on a cot matching Zuko's own and the familiar surroundings of their hut. Unmistakable relief colors the other boy's voice.
"We were pretty worried about you there for a while.. that was one heck of a deep snooze you were in."
Zuko swallows against the desert-like feeling in his mouth, guilt trickling down the back of his mind at the thought of everyone panicking over him.
".. I'm sorry... that I made you all worry."
Confusion hits Sokka's face, a short huff falling from his mouth before he speaks.
"You don't have anything to be sorry for, man. It wasn't your fault."
The water tribe boy shakes his head, smoothing a hand through his unwrapped and messy hair. An expression torn between exasperation and fondness slips onto his face.
"Not every little bad thing that happens in the world is your fault, y'know?"
Zuko nods weakly, looking downward to see the stained bandages wrapped around his injured arm.
"How long have I been out?"
Sokka scratches gently at the bandage over the back of his own head as he speaks.
"Little over a day. You didn't miss much, the fighting was already pretty much over by the time help found us, and dad showed up not long after that."
The chief's son pauses, clearing his throat after a moment. His tone shifts, gratitude shining in blue eyes as he looks at the other boy.
"Thank you, for saving me. If you hadn't been there, I'd probably be in the brig on a fire nation ship right now, heading off to some dark cell with a pair of shackles reserved just for me."
Zuko's face twists at the thought of Sokka chained up somewhere, huddled in a grimy cell and kept as leverage for months, years... or maybe even forever.
The prince returns his gaze to Sokka, loosing a deep exhale.
"My choices were.. go after you and help... or run away. Running was the only option that really scared me."
Sokka nods seriously, the same deeper understanding that he'd found for Zuko when they were lost in the cold still clear and present in his mind.
More daylight floods into the hut as the entrance cloth is pulled back, Kya and Katara both halting their movement suddenly as they notice Zuko's open eyes.
The chief's wife rushes inside, running her eyes over the prince's pale form.
"Zuko! Is anything hurting? Are you feeling feverish?"
Kya raises a hand to settle it on his forehead, and to Zuko's surprise, he doesn't feel even the slightest urge to flinch at the contact. Every part of him seems to realize now that he's safe with this family...
"Well.. you don't feel as warm as you did through the night, that's a good sign."
She sighs, dropping her hand to let it rest on Zuko's uninjured arm. A mix of pride and something more somber fills her eyes.
".. that was a very brave thing you did."
Zuko feels heat flush his cheeks. If anyone were to ask, he'd tell them it was just the fever.
Sokka lets out a gentle snort from his cot, peering over at his mother and the prince.
"Well.. I just hope you don't always go this far to prove yourself, man."
There's a beat of silence, and Sokka notices the awkward look that passes over Zuko's face right before his own blue eyes go wide.
"Sweet spirits, you do. How are you not dead yet??"
Kya rolls her eyes softly, leveling a stern look at her son.
"Sokka. Leave him be."
The water tribe boy shakes his head, shrugging pleadingly.
"He has got issues, mom."
His mother raises an eyebrow pointedly.
"And you don't?"
Sokka opens his mouth to offer a rebuttal, pausing as he thinks better of it.
"... well, that's beside the point, so."
Kya's stern expression cracks with a chuckle, the prince and her son following suit with quiet giggles.
Zuko's mirth vanishes rapidly as he notices Katara's small form stood beside his cot, angry tears rolling down her cheeks.
"I thought you were.. gonna die."
Guilt seeps into Zuko's chest. Katara's mother and brother both watch her with soft gazes.
The prince shakes his head softly.
"I'm sor-"
Katara cuts him off, struggling through a small sob as she does.
"We'd miss you too much if you- you were gone. So you can't die, okay? Don't do that again. Don't die."
Zuko feels dual tendrils of melancholy and affection wrap around his heart as he looks into her teary blue eyes, his head dipping with a somber nod.
"I'll do my best... I promise."
He doesn't know what it is about this family that keeps driving him to make these earnest, impossible promises.. but he does know that, despite it all, he wouldn't have it any other way.
It isn't until later that Hakoda arrives, walking inside with halting steps, entering his own home as if he was a stranger. He glances at Sokka's sleeping form, taking in the rare quiet of the house as his son sleeps and his wife and daughter retrieve water from the well.
The chief watches Zuko closely as he approaches, keeping his evaluating gaze on the boy as he lowers himself to sit at the edge of the cot. His typically calm voice is even quieter than usual as he speaks.
"How are you feeling?"
Zuko fidgets under the blankets, tired of being worried over. His mind drifts to jokes he'd overheard on the Wani once upon a time, lips curving up into an awkward little smile as he begins courageously attempting to lighten the mood of the room.
"Stiff in all the wrong places.."
Hakoda's eyes go somewhat wide, his brows furrowed together.
"... has Bato been telling you jokes?"
Zuko shakes his head lightly, a flush of embarrassed heat rising over his face.
"No, I-.. I heard it from back..."
He'd started that sentence with the intention of saying "home", but the word feels wrong in his mouth, his voice trailing off conspicuously.
Hakoda nods awkwardly.
".. oh."
Zuko cringes and pulls the covers higher, turning his gaze to the ground.
'This is why I don't tell jokes.'
The unsure silence of the room holds for a few more moments, the chief clearing his throat and folding his hands in his lap. He breaks the quiet with a soft, grave apology.
"I'm sorry."
Zuko blinks, confusion falling over his features.
"Pardon?"
Hakoda turns to look Zuko in the eyes, regret etched into his face.
"If I had known what was coming, I... I never would've asked you to make that promise about protecting my family. I sat that responsibility on your shoulders and it almost got you killed."
Zuko shakes his head insistently.
"That's not true. I don't need any-"
Hakoda gently interrupts him.
"It is true. I told myself when I took you in that I wouldn't be just another person who'd let you down and hurt you, and yet I did it without even thinking. I shouldn't-"
"Listen to me!"
Hakoda stops suddenly when the passion in Zuko's voice hits his ear. The prince's face flushes slightly, but he keeps his gaze steady on the chief and carries on.
"I would've done what I did no matter what, regardless of the promise. You and your family are... you're good people. There aren't as many of those in the world as there should be. I could never stand on the sidelines and watch something happen knowing that I could help."
Zuko swallows, taking a breath to sort his words.
"Especially not-.. not after what your family has done for me. You helped me, you brought me into your home, you've all been... you've been kind to me."
He says the word like it's a rare and cherished thing to him, because it is.
"What kind of person would I be.. If I didn't return that kindness?"
Hakoda's face remains stoic, though ponderous thougts and emotions flicker behind his eyes as he looks at the boy.
"... you wouldn't be yourself."
The prince dips his head with a single, deep nod. He shrugs softly, as much as his wounds will allow.
"The idea of a life without honor... just never made much sense to me."
Hakoda sighs softly, contemplating the young man in front of him.
"I've never met someone who seemed so young... and yet so old all at once."
Zuko runs a hand through the soft furs laid atop him, resisting a weary smile. Even since before he'd been a sixteen year old transplanted into an eleven year old body, Zuko hadn't felt as young as his age for a long, long time.
"I guess I just had to grow up a little faster to keep up with the world."
Hakoda feels a wave of saddened understanding wash over him, the chief allowing himself a moment to collect his thoughts before he rises from the cot. He steps closer, gently brushing a calloused hand over Zuko's messy black hair.
"I should've made it clearer when I said it before, but now you'll know for next time. When I tell you to keep my family safe... that means taking care of yourself too, boy."
Emotion creeps up into Zuko's throat, a slight sting emerging behind his eyes.
"Y-yes, sir."
Hakoda aims a gentle smile at the prince before he turns away, stepping over to ready the plates for the family's dinner.
Zuko scrubs a hand over his eyes as Kya and Katara step through into the hut, Sokka slowly waking at the smell of food beginning to circulate in the air.
The word "home" had felt unnervingly wrong when the prince had tried to attach it to the palaces and war-ships of the fire nation, but for the little slice of warmth in the middle of frozen tundra that he currently found himself in, the word seemed to fit just right.
Ozai's eyes linger on the flames surrounding his throne, his expression torn between boredom and bitterness.
After a moment of silence, the fire lord shifts his gaze to the man knelt on the floor of the chamber, snapping out an impatient "Speak." The soldier startles slightly, bowing his head in apology.
"Unfortunately.. the mission was a failure, sir. The men we sent were unable to capture any water benders or high-value hostages."
Ozai's expression doesn't change, but anger simmers in his voice as he responds.
"That is unfortunate... and very disappointing."
The soldier swallows anxiously, replying hurriedly.
"Yes. Though the mission wasn't a total loss. We did learn through their movements that the water tribe are indeed the ones who received our stolen assault plans, your majesty."
Ozai hums consideringly.
"Was there any sign of the prince among them?"
"None of the surviving soldiers reported any sightings, sir. Do-.. do you believe it's time to inform the search teams about the exact nature of his disappearance?"
The fire lord's eyes flash like sharpened steel.
"You will keep our suspicions about the prince to yourself, fool. If that information leaks.. trust me when I say that you do not want to pay for that mistake. The price will be costly."
The soldier quickly drops into an apologetic bow.
"Of course, sir. It won't be mentioned again, I promise."
Ozai sighs, sinking back into his throne.
"Very well. Now leave me, I want time to think. You can return later once I call for you."
The soldier nods in deference, backing out of the throne room quietly. The doors shut with a soft thud.
Ozai returns his gaze to the flames rising from the floor, picturing his son amongst the fire.
'You had better pray that I don't find you, boy. If I do.. I'll teach you a lesson that you'll carry for the rest of your life.'
He stays lost in his thoughts for a short while, amber-gold eyes still locked on the hot glow of fire.
The throne-room doors swinging open shatter his reverie in an instant. Ozai spits out an annoyed scoff.
"What disrespectful imbecile dares to enter the royal chamber without permission?"
A short chuckle drifts out from the darkened doorway.
"Oh come now.. Is that any way to greet your brother?"
Ozai's eyes widen slightly as Iroh approaches, suspicion creeping over the fire lord's face.
"... you aren't supposed to be here yet. Why didn't I know about this?"
Iroh ignores the question with a genial smile.
"On the contrary, brother. This is exactly where I'm supposed to be."
Ozai narrows his eyes in annoyance.
"Tch, you know I don't care for your riddles. Speak plainly."
Iroh's smile fades into something more somber.
"Well.. I decided it was time that I return home with my son."
Ozai peers at his brother with considering eyes, nodding in satisfaction after a moment.
"Ah... we'll arrange a proper burial for his remains with haste, then. He can take his rightful place alongside father."
The sudden sound of footsteps draws closer, a third voice ringing out in the chamber.
"Though that is a kind offer, I believe I'll be happier above ground, uncle."
Lu Ten comes to a stop beside his father, staring up at Ozai with an unbothered smile.
The fire lord's face goes slack with shock for the briefest of moments before a carefully neutral mask of emotion slips over his features.
"Nephew. We.. had heard you perished in battle."
Lu Ten lets out a soft sigh and holds a hand over his stomach, where a dark scar resides beneath his clothes.
"Oh I would have, were it not for the grace of Agni himself."
Ozai nods slowly, shifting his eyes onto Iroh with the practiced calmness of a political official.
"So... you've come home for the purpose of sharing this joyous news, then?"
Iroh's smile is small, false, and meant to be so.
"Among other things."
The temperature in the room shifts almost instantaneously, heat rising as Ozai's expression slowly crumbles into something venomous.
"I don't appreciate your tone. What is the meaning of this nonsense?!"
Lu Ten's eyes flicker to the intensifying sway of the flames surrounding the throne, but Iroh's expression stays steady as he watches his brother. The fire nation general drops his head with a calm nod after a moment.
"I waited beside my child as he lay dying, and it was then that I heard the whispers. The ones that said you thought my son dead, and that you saw his death not as a tragedy, but an opportunity. That you saw weakness in my grief."
Iroh shakes his head softly, a flicker of pain passing across his face.
"I denied the ones who told me these things, because I had faith in you. And then I watched as that faith turned to ash and scattered to the winds."
A sliver of anger falls over Iroh's features.
"Your own kin stood at death's door, and you used it to your advantage. You murdered our father and forced your wife into exile. And then you somehow lost my nephew, your son, the heir to the throne. You are many things, brother... but if there is one thing you are not, it is a man fit to lead our people."
Ozai leaps to his feet with an enraged growl, his voice a roar as he hollers.
"Guards! Seize this treasonous scum, now!!"
Ozai grows more furious by the second, swinging around to look at the guards stood motionless around the room.
"What are you waiting for?!?"
Amongst the screams and the surging flames, Iroh's voice remains calm.
"I am not alone in my belief that you do not deserve to rule this nation, Ozai."
The fire lord seethes.
"What you believe doesn't matter! What any of you mindless peons believe doesn't matter!! I took this power with my own two hands, it's mine!!"
Iroh snorts with disgust, his stillness finally broken as he begins taking purposeful steps forward.
Fire wraps around Ozai's fists.
"It's all mine... and I'll keep it in the same way that it was taken!!"
Bolts of flame rush at Iroh's head, the general batting them aside with ease. Ozai throws more and Iroh redirects them into the air.
Ozai throws his hands forward with a scream, summoning a rising wall of flame and driving it towards his brother. He grins at the smell of scorched armor.
The fire lord's amusement vanishes as Iroh splits the wall of fire apart with an annoyed grunt.
Iroh clenches his fist with a snarl, steam rising off of his armor.
"I'm done playing with you, little brother."
Ozai sucks in a panicked breath as the general closes in, forcing out one last desperate blast of fire. Iroh drives himself through the flames, slamming his boot into Ozai's chest with a powerful kick.
The fire lord is thrown backwards into his throne with thunderous impact, stunning him. He pulls himself to his feet, though Iroh stops him with a sharp slap to the face.
Ozai collapses onto his knees, the crownpiece falling from his hair and clattering to the floor. He looks up with blood dripping from his lip as Iroh reaches down to grab the solid-gold symbol of flame.
Iroh clutches it in his hand, staring down at his brother with anger and disappointment filling his eyes.
"This doesn't belong to you. It never did."
Notes:
Plot twiiist 🙌 LOL well, considering this chapter was originally meant to be a "catch your breath" moment, it turned out way more heavy than I planned 🙈
And I just wanna say thank you to everyone who's read and had fun with the story, your enjoyment of it is what drives me more than anything 💕 I love hearing y'alls thoughts on the fic or your favorite lines and moments, so please drop a comment if you've got a free minute 😘
Chapter 7: True color
Notes:
Hello, lovely people 💕
If you're looking for more quality A:TLA content on here, I recommend checking out Revolution by JustGettingBy, it is off to a wicked cool start 🔥
✨ The link:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/34852276/chapters/86783077
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
He wakes slowly, consciousness returning to him in pieces, bit by bit.
The feeling of soft and smooth covers wrapped around his body takes his notice first, followed by the whisper of a warm breeze washing over the bed.
His arms slip out from underneath the blankets as he moves to stretch, halting suddenly as a sharp and sudden ache from his midsection protests the movement. It's only then that Lu Ten wakes fully, the blissful reprieve of sleep fading as reality creeps back in.
Lu Ten reaches up gingerly to rub at dark amber eyes, his other hand softly settling over his stomach. A blanket conceals the jagged scar that covers his belly, but he traces over its sharp edges through memory and the feel of its ache.
He can still remember the tremble in the voice of the healer's assistant as the boy had gazed at his freshly healing wound.
"The mark of death's hand... It touched you."
Lu Ten sighs softly to himself.
It was the nights that they'd warned him about. They said it would be the dreams (the nightmares) that would haunt him. But it's only once he wakes that fear seizes him, when his mind is unfettered by slumber and able to linger on the memories and the terror of what he'd felt.
A distinct stab of anxiety slithers through his chest at those thoughts, the young man shaking his head in weary annoyance as he swings his legs out over the bed.
He pulls himself carefully up to his feet, wiggling his toes against the cold stone floor as he walks.
His forearms press against the sink when he comes to a stop, his hands dipping beneath the water in the bowl before he brings up a handful to splash over his face.
Lu Ten brushes his untied hair away from his eyes, staring at the man in the mirror.
'... you've changed, haven't you? I don't recognize you anymore..'
He feels the scars carved into his skin. It's the scars that he can feel on his mind that worry him more, though.
Lu Ten bows his head, trying to force his breathing into a steady rhythm. He steps away from the mirror after a long minute, pleased with the determination that he can feel brewing in his heart.
He has more important things to handle today than stubborn fears, after all.
Iroh stands stiffly, his eyes locked on Ozai through the steel bars between them. The newly appointed fire lord is forced to look downwards to catch his younger brother's gaze, Ozai locked into a kneeling position on the floor with a web of chains keeping him in place.
"I hope you know that this isn't a sight I take pleasure in, brother."
Ozai glares through Iroh as if he wasn't even there, his breathing deep and steady in a poorly manufactured facade of calm.
Iroh sighs quietly at the lack of response, soldiering on.
"Listen to me. There isn't much you can do from this cell, but you can still help to find Zuko. I know you're hiding something, a blind man could see that much, and I need you to tell me what it is."
Ozai finally lifts his gaze to meet his brother's eyes.
"... You say that like you aren't blind. I must disagree."
Irritation bubbles up in Iroh's chest, his voice raising.
"This is no time for games, Ozai! Do you really care so little about finding your own child?"
The amused curl at the corner of Ozai's lips is faint, but Iroh catches it nonetheless. The fire lord takes in a shocked inhale, saddened disappointment washing over him.
"When did your heart grow so cold?"
Annoyance and derision settle on Ozai's face.
"When I realized the full scope of my destiny. The throne may look large, but you'll find that there is no room for your petty sentimentality on it."
Iroh stares ahead with unblinking eyes for a long moment, pulling in a deep breath before he replies.
"Very well, then. You won't find yourself bothered by my presence again... Goodbye, Ozai."
The fire lord turns and walks away without hesitation, the sound of his departing footsteps ringing out through the hallway with finality.
Ozai allows his gaze to sink to the floor once more, words falling from his mouth bitterly.
"How fitting that the traitor was always your favorite child, brother..."
Lu Ten leans away from the wall he's propped up against as his father emerges from the holding cells, catching the older man's attention with a warm grin.
Iroh's troubled expression melts away as he catches sight of his son, the two of them stepping closer as they wrap around each other in an embrace.
Lu Ten smiles over his father's shoulder when the older man's powerful arms tighten lovingly around him. All these little moments, the affectionate embraces and the quiet laughter shared over clever jokes, they've begun to feel indescribably precious to Lu Ten, like flashes of happiness stolen from a life that's already supposed to be over.
The hug continues for a few more seconds until they both step back gracefully, composing themselves. Lu Ten watches as his father's affectionate smile is hidden away under the wise and calm expression of a leader.
The younger man aims a thumb down the hallway to the cells.
"Did you get anything useful out of him?"
Iroh lets out a disappointed exhale through his nose.
"Nothing more than what I expected, unfortunately."
Lu Ten sees the worry shimmering underneath his father's steady exterior, reaching out to clasp the older man on the shoulder.
"Zuko will be alright, dad. We will find him, and he'll survive until we do."
If there was one thing that he knew about his cousin, it was the boy's strength of will. It was strong... stronger than Ozai or any of the boy's dullard teachers would ever have been willing to realize or admit.
Iroh nods thoughtfully at the reassurance, leaning in closer to his son and keeping his voice carefully low.
"That was something I wanted to talk to you about. My hands are full with the duties of the fire lord at the moment; those who still support Ozai are enraged, those who support me aren't pleased with how I'm handling things, and those who aren't saying anything at all concern me the most. I can't dedicate the proper amount of focus towards finding your cousin right now."
Iroh makes a frustrated noise at the back of his throat before he continues.
"I still don't know for certain who my allies are here.. so, I want you leading the search for the prince."
Lu Ten bows his head respectfully, conviction sparking in his voice.
"With pleasure, sir."
Iroh dips his head with a pleased nod, sunlight shining off the crownpiece settled in his hair.
"As soon as we find the people who took Prince Zuko... I will bring the full depth of our wrath down on their doorstep."
Despite the quiver he feels in his heart at those words, Lu Ten nods.
"And I'll be right there alongside you, father."
Lu Ten weaves through a small crowd as he moves along the street, trying desperately to ignore the feeling of eyes following his every step.
There had been a time when he enjoyed the attention, when the people had looked at him with admiring gazes and the respect awarded to future leaders.
But now... their eyes fall on him coldly. He's watched as if he is a traitor, or perhaps a ghost.
Lu Ten isn't sure which of those accusations he hates more.
Azula is barely willing to spare him a glance as he speaks. The entirety of her focus seems to rest on Mai and Ty Lee as they engage in an imaginary Agni Kai for the right to be her royal bodyguard.
The six heavily armored soldiers placed around the courtyard and ordered to guard the princess with their lives almost seem as if they feel left out.
Lu Ten clears his throat pointedly.
"Did you hear me, Azula?"
The princess sighs, her eyes still locked on the childish yet surprisingly violent combat occurring between her friends.
"It's like I've said to everyone else, I was in bed and asleep by the time my dear brother was taken, so I really can't offer any assistance."
Lu Ten fights back a sigh of his own.
"Did you see anything unusual?"
He can practically see Azula struggle to swallow down a meaner version of whatever she wants to say, only a faint coat of bitterness over her words as she replies.
"Though I am incredibly skilled in many ways, even I am unable to see whilst unconscious."
Lu Ten watches her closely, grinding the heel of his shoe into the grass as he decides to push harder.
"Well, before I left for the war, seeing you lurking around the palace halls at all hours of the night was a typical occurrence... so you can understand how I would assume that you'd seen at least something out of the ordinary."
Azula's patience begins visibly wearing thin, the princess finally turning to settle a pointed gaze on her uncle's son.
"People change, cousin."
Lu Ten exhales forcefully.
"Once you woke up on the day he was taken, did you notice if th-"
Azula's youthful face twists with anger, a spark flashing in the air between them.
"Listen! I have told you the exact same thing that I've said to my father and anyone else who cared to ask about this. That is all that I intend to say on the matter."
Lu Ten blinks, surprised at what sounds like the first honest answer he's received. After a long moment, he reaches up to tighten the tie in his hair and begins to step away.
"Fair enough.."
He pauses after a few paces, turning his head to speak over his shoulder.
"These things that you're saying.. are they the truth, Azula?"
The princess laughs quietly, her eyes once again settled on her friends.
"Oh cousin... would I lie to you?"
Lu Ten scoffs softly, his steps resuming.
"Enjoy the rest of your day, princess."
Azula waves without looking, spitting out a faux-cheerful "you, too!" as he departs.
Lu Ten's next visit is to a high-ranking fire nation colonel, the man in charge of monitoring security for all of Caldera. They haven't been speaking for longer than five minutes before the man is stroking at his greying beard and bitterly lamenting about how "the younger troops aren't trained properly anymore, they're taught too softly, it's no wonder they're letting things like this slip through the cracks...".
Lu Ten holds back a wince.
'It's always nice when you can actually feel yourself slam headfirst into a dead-end.'
He goes to the captain of the royal guard next, a greatly-respected member of their ranks.
"So.. was there anything that stood out to you on that night, Captain?"
She gives a curt nod in response.
"You'll find everything in my report, sir."
Lu Ten taps a restless finger against his folded arms.
"Well yes, but.. the report isn't as... finely-detailed as most of your others have been. It doesn't matter how big or small it may have seemed, anything that caught your attention at all could help. Even a hunch would be fine."
The captain shakes her head briefly.
"I don't do hunches, sir. Only facts."
Lu Ten swallows a groan. He'd worried that remaining loyalty to Ozai amongst their soldiers would end up being a pain in the ass, but not to this degree.
He decides to try a different method.
"Well... I would greatly appreciate it if you could try, just this once, for me. I'd absolutely be in your debt, Captain."
He caps off the gentle plea with his most-charming smile.
The captain turns slowly, delivering the most severely unimpressed stare that Lu Ten has ever laid eyes on.
An awkward chuckle is forced out of his throat.
The sun has begun to set by the time he reaches his current interview, a younger member of the palace guards, one who'd been placed at the outer perimeter on the night Zuko was taken. He seems smart enough, but like everyone else Lu Ten has questioned, he's a bit too tight-lipped to offer much help.
"You'll find all the pertinent details in my report, sir."
Lu Ten nods halfheartedly. He twists around to look at the setting sun, letting out a short hiss as the movement agitates his aching scar.
There's a moment of silence before the guard speaks, his helmet-clad head tilting slightly.
"You... look like you're having a rough day. Um, sir."
Lu Ten rubs carefully over his stomach, huffing out a tired laugh.
"It's starting to seem like rough days are the only kind I have anymore."
There's another beat of cautious silence before the guard replies.
"... you're not really how I'd expected you to be."
Lu Ten raises an eyebrow.
"Oh? So you've been expecting me, then?"
The other man startles slightly.
"Uh, no. I mean- yes. I just.. I always assumed you'd be like gener- Fire Lord Iroh, or... like Ozai."
Lu Ten chuckles softly, letting it taper off into a friendly smile after a moment.
"Well, I'm happy that I defied your expectations."
The guard lets out an amused huff, and the small amount of skin that Lu Ten can see through the helmet's faceplate flushes into a gentle red.
Lu Ten blinks, surprise flitting over his mind.
'Oh. Well... that's interesting.'
He takes a breath, keeping his expression open and genuine.
"It would really mean a lot to me if you could tell me anything that might help me find my cousin.. I'm very worried about him."
The guard shifts his feet, an unsure hum rising from his throat.
Lu Ten grins, aiming a wink at the other man.
"C'mon, don't fret.. I'm not the type to kiss and tell."
The guard quietly sighs as his skin reddens further.
"I-.. I'm not technically supposed to tell you anything that isn't already in my report, but... okay."
The guard takes a couple steps closer, lowering his voice.
"The night that the prince dissapeared, well.. everyone was where they were supposed to be. Not a single one of our posts was compromised. I know that people make mistakes sometimes... but that night was not one of those times."
Lu Ten furrows his eyebrows.
"I don't understand, what are you saying?"
The guard's voice lowers further.
"I'm saying that there is no way that someone broke into the palace without us knowing about it, especially not enough people to kidnap an eleven year old firebender."
The wheels in Lu Ten's mind turn and grind, something almost like dread filling his head as an answer to this mystery presents itself.
"You're saying that you don't think anyone could've gotten in, so... you think someone got out?"
The guard's pointed silence is his only response.
'Oh... oh, I wish that didn't make so much sense. What in the world have you done, little cousin?'
Zuko shivers against harsh winds and wraps the coat he'd been forced to borrow from Sokka tighter around his chest, the blue material standing out against his pale skin. He swallows through the bitter taste in his mouth as he watches the entirety of Hakoda's tribe pack their belongings and wipe away any traces of their presence from the land.
The chief notices Zuko from a distance, pausing his oversight of the tribe's exodus to go check on the fire nation child covered in blue.
"It's good to see you up and about.. how are your wounds feeling?"
The prince holds a stiff arm against his aching side, shrugging gently.
"It's nothing I can't ignore."
Hakoda watches him for a moment longer with perceptive eyes, nodding in acceptance.
"I'm glad to hear that. I'd worried that traveling might be a problem for you, especially with us leaving so soon.. but I'd rather not wait around to see if fire nation soldiers intend to underestimate my tribe twice."
Zuko hums briefly in agreement. Frustration makes itself visible on the prince's face as he looks out over the myriad of people readying to leave.
"This.. isn't right. That you all should have to abandon your homes because of other people's hatred and ignorance bleeding over into your lives."
Hakoda inclines his head in understanding, something bittersweet shining through in his eyes.
"That's true. But it isn't the first time we've had to do it, and it won't be the last. Most importantly, though.. we aren't abandoning our home, Zuko."
The prince glances at the older man in surprise, raising a questioning eyebrow.
Hakoda smiles softly, his eyes going unfocused as though he were searching through memories inside his mind.
"Home isn't a place. It isn't walls or a roof, or the dirt beneath you. Home is the people you share those places with."
The chief's gaze shifts, his eyes finding and settling onto Kya as she forcefully mediates a passionate squabble between Sokka and Katara.
"Because you risked so much to help save it... my home is safe, son."
Hakoda looks to Zuko again, smiling softly at the young man. The prince opens his mouth, mentally scrambling for the right thing to say.
They're distracted as Bato calls out to the chief, Hakoda leaving the prince's side with a small nod. Zuko looks off into the icy distance, still turning the chief's words over in his mind.
He stands there long enough for the sun to move across the sky and reposition his shadow on the snowy ground. The prince is finally pulled from his thoughts as a small wooden carving tumbles into the snow beside his feet.
Zuko twists around to see its owner, an older woman escorted by her daughter as they move through the rapidly disappearing village. He reaches down to grab the carving, jogging over and raising his voice hesitantly.
"Excuse me. I-.. I think you dropped this."
The grey-haired woman's eyes shift onto him in surprise, her gaze falling to the carving in his outstretched hand.
"Oh! My goodness.. I hadn't noticed it getting away from me..."
She reaches out a weathered hand to retrieve it, fingers curling around the wood gently.
"Thank you, young man."
Zuko nods respectfully, beginning to step away before her voice halts him.
"Thank you.. for everything you've done for us."
She meets his eyes, pale blue settled onto warm gold as she nods meaningfully.
Zuko manages to nod back through his shock, lost for words once again.
The woman's daughter pulls softly at her arm and their steps resume, the two of them disappearing into the small throng of people hurrying to leave.
For the first time, the water tribe colors wrapped around Zuko's skin feel like they truly belong.
Snow shifts underneath a camel-yak's feet as it walks slowly, lifting its head curiously to sniff at the air.
The sound of a sharp snap rings out as the ice begins to crack slightly under the tundra camel's weight. The creature spits out a startled huff, scurrying off into the deeper snow.
Deep in the ice, a boy sleeps, a boy soon-to-be awakened.
Notes:
He's comiiiiiing 🙌
In summary: PTSD is a dick
Iroh thinks he's in Taken 4, but it's actually... (I couldn't think of any movies where an honorable young prince defects because his dad is an evil asshole)
Lu Ten gets to run CSI: Caldera
Zuko risking his ass his to save Sokka earned him some water tribe rep...
😭💀I just want to thank you all so much for reading along and commenting to this story, y'all are the reason I do this. Knowing that I get to share my love for these characters and entertain you for a little while is what makes all the struggling through writer's block worth it 💛💖
Come check out my Tumblr if you wanna chat about the fic or anything else ☺ https://boomerangchicken.tumblr.com
Chapter 8: The boy and the bison
Notes:
Hey everyone! ✨ I'm sorry for the long wait on this chapter, but 2022 got off to a rough start for me... I hope you're all doing well and feeling good 😊 also! Burning Wings hit 1600 kudos!! Thank you all so much for that <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Lu Ten paces, expending nervous energy as he takes the same seven steps over and over again. His eyes drift to the fire nation insignia emblazoned on the meeting-hall doors for what feels like the hundredth time.
The doors finally swing outward with a deep creak, advisors and fire nation officials flowing out of the room in a steady stream. Lu Ten catches his father's gaze, a flash of worry crossing over the older man's face at the sight of his son's grave expression.
Lu Ten nods to a private corner and moves to it, while Iroh breaks away discreetly from the others to follow. The fire lord's voice stays low and grim.
"What's wrong?"
A grimace passes over Lu Ten's face as he glances around for eavesdroppers, matching his father's quiet tone.
"I asked around. Most of the people I went to were tight-lipped about it, but there was one guard who presented some relevant info. He was there on the night... and he said there's no way that a kidnapping could've went down without a single person in the palace noticing."
Iroh's face pinches together in confusion as he processes the information.
"You don't believe he was taken? Then that would mean.. he ran?"
The fire lord's son nods with conviction.
"It makes sense. His mother's gone, he thought his only cousin was dead, Azula isn't exactly a comforting presence... and he has Ozai for a father. Wouldn't you run?"
The emotions on Iroh's face shift, guilt seeping into the wrinkles that are steadily beginning to multiply on his features.
"I assumed he was taken because it was the simplest answer, but..."
His son agrees with a quiet hum.
"Life is.. rarely simple."
Iroh dips his head with a somber nod, the part of his mind that still thinks like a general in wartime sparking to life.
"Do you think he would've gone so far as to defect to another nation?"
Lu Ten takes a breath while he contemplates.
"We know Zuko isn't a fool. It's entirely possible he realized that another nation might be the safest place to g-"
Iroh's eyes widen milliseconds before they're interrupted by a bitterly disapproving voice.
"I don't know whether I should I blame the fool who told you that nonsense.. or fault you for believing it in the first place, prince."
Lu Ten's expression hardens as the owner of the voice strolls around the corner to stand beside him.
"General Nuzo. I don't seem to remember inviting you into this discussion."
The man was one of the fire-nation's younger generals, an officer who'd risen through the ranks on the strength of his loyalty and his willingness to follow Ozai's orders to the letter. Yellow eyes peer out from under long, black hair as he glares at the heir to the throne.
"Well, I feel that it is my right to interject against slander of the royal family. Despite what you say, I know in my heart that Prince Zuko would never betray his beloved father."
Lu Ten scoffs sharply.
"Beloved?? Tch.. Just because the denial of proof and facts have been a staple of your tenure here does not mean that it will be in ours."
Nuzo has the nerve to look genuinely offended at that accusation, a derisive sneer settling onto his face.
"Oh, facts? Is that what they're calling gossip that falls from the mouths of loose-lipped guards these days?"
Lu Ten clenches his jaw, barely noticing as his father does the same.
"My source is reliable."
Nuzo huffs out a nasty chuckle, eyeing Lu Ten closely.
"I highly doubt that, especially considering the methods you likely used to get him to talk."
A blush that's partly embarrassed but mostly enraged rises rapidly to Lu Ten's face.
"Excuse me??"
Nuzo's lips curl into a bitter, pointed smirk.
"I think you know what I meant."
Lu Ten crosses his arms calmly despite the anger boiling in his chest, a smirk of his own settling onto his features.
"I don't allow anyone to judge me on what I do in the privacy of my bedroom, but even if I did, I certainly wouldn't tolerate derision from a spineless sycophant who's pulled nothing more than disappointed sighs out of his wife for the duration of their marriage."
Shock and fury twist the general's expression.
"You disrespectful hea-"
A surprised gurgle is forced out of Nuzo after Iroh's hand clenches around his throat. His legs dangle uselessly after the fire lord raises him off of the ground, taking a few short steps before slamming him against a wall.
Iroh takes a moment to breathe deeply while Nuzo struggles to do the same.
A hall full of advisors and captains watch with wide eyes as the general chokes under Iroh's hand, still held aloft from the ground. Lu Ten stares at his father's back with mixed emotions flying through his mind.
Iroh looks into Nuzo's eyes steadily.
"You have disrespected my son, and in turn, you have disrespected me. Do you understand the severity of this misstep?"
Nuzo nods desperately, falling to smack into the unforgiving floor after Iroh loosens his hold. The general wheezes and coughs, long hair draped over his reddened face in messy strands.
Iroh clasps his hands behind himself regally despite the hardened anger in his eyes.
"Stand."
Nuzo hesitantly pulls himself up to stand on shaky legs. His height brings him up to stand a little taller than the fire lord, but Iroh seems to tower over him regardless.
"I am a kinder man than my brother. This is a fact that you have bemoaned many times."
Iroh keeps his gaze held tightly to the general's own.
"But do not test the limits of my kindness. Do not force me to teach you a second lesson in respect. And trust me when I say that is something that neither of us want."
Nuzo nods meekly, clutching at his bruised throat. After a long pause of silence, Iroh lifts his hand to gesture down the hall.
"You may go."
General Nuzo turns and stumbles off in haste, the sound of doors being flung open loud in the shocked quiet of the hall.
Iroh flexes his hand open, sighing softly to himself. He turns away from the eyes of the onlookers and walks back to his son, pausing briefly to allow Lu Ten to match his strides before they carry on down the hall.
The fire lord settles his forearms on a railing and breathes in the humid evening air once they're outside. Lu Ten matches the pose beside him.
"... don't allow the words of fools to bother you, my son. What they say can reach your ears, but simply do your best to keep it from traveling into your mind."
Lu Ten exhales quietly, contemplating everything that he and his father have gone through to make it to this point, reckoning with all the trials that still lay before them.
"I haven't lost any sleep over the opinions of men like him for my whole life. I certainly wasn't planning on starting now."
He turns to his father with a warm smile, bumping his shoulder against the older man's own.
A loving smile grows on Iroh's face, his arm curling around Lu Ten's back to pull him closer.
"I'd say that I had succeeded in raising you well, but I know that you discovered this particular piece of wisdom all on your own."
The two of them settle and relax into the brief reprieve of peace.
A few minutes of quiet pass by before Iroh speaks up again, his voice contemplative and softly determined.
"Now, if you were a prince on the run... where would you go?"
Zuko's head twists and turns as he surveys his snowy surroundings, a spark of familiarity flaring in his mind. The entirety of Hakoda's tribe moves around him, huts and walls rising from their work, but Zuko barely sees them through his haze of remembrance.
Sokka's excited rambling just barely snaps him out of it.
"This is a pretty sweet spot, don't ya think? Oh man, and it's gonna look so much better once we're done fortifying it. A big ol' solid snow-wall around the area, and a watchtower for the lookout. It will be, in a word, majestic."
Zuko mumbles out an absentminded agreement, his mind racing.
It looks different, flatter and more sparse than he remembers, but the location they've settled at is unmistakably the place where he met Sokka and Katara for the first time, the spot that will serve as the water tribe's home for years to come.
But more importantly than anything, that means...
'Aang is close.'
Hakoda gives him a thoroughly bemused stare when Zuko says he wants to go scouting for fishing spots, but the chief offers his permission after only a few warnings to watch out for anything big enough to eat him.
The prince treks through deep snow and slippery ice, searching long enough for the sun to make its journey from one side of the sky to the other. He doesn't find a single sign of anything that could possibly lead him to Aang.
Zuko tries to ignore the stab of worry that fact creates in his heart.
He heads out into the tundra day after day to search, despite the increasingly odd looks that he earns from the water tribe because of that.
Icy wind washes over him, numbing his nerves and making each step harder than the last. He grows tired. He grows weary.
But it only takes one glance down to the ocean-blue coat that Zuko has claimed as his own to remind him of why he has to keep going, to remind him of all that he wants to protect.
The prince doggedly stalks forward into the cold.
The weeks fly by like a fire nation airship, Zuko's anxiety worsening with every passing day. Ozai begins haunting his dreams, stood alongside Kya and Hakoda's blood-soaked bodies. Zuko uses the fear to drive himself forward, letting the black shards of terror feed the fire in him like lumps of dense coal.
The prince drags his feet through the snow tiredly, his eyes drawn to the darkening orange horizon with disappointment.
He huffs out a deep, unsettled sigh before he turns and begins following his footsteps through the snow.
The sky darkens further while he retraces his path home, wondering what strange new water-tribe dish might be waiting for him when he arrives.
His steps and thoughts both come to a sharp halt as he sees the shape of a face through uncovered ice, an intake of breath sucked in on reflex. Zuko throws his body into action.
"Aang?! Aang, I'm coming!"
He slides to a stop near the uncovered ice that makes up the ground underneath his feet, dropping to his knees and hovering his hands above the frozen water.
"Just hold on, Aang.. I'm here. I'm finally here."
Flames spark to life over his palms, the ice beginning to melt in response. A burst of excitement causes Zuko's flames to intensify, forcing the prince to inhale a calming breath and carefully rein in his fire.
'Please refrain from turning the Avatar into a burnt crisp during the rescue attempt, I don't think there's a single soul in three nations that would believe it was an accident...'
Zuko modulates his fire with as much patience as he's able to muster, letting the ice melt away gradually.
He allows the flames to simmer and vanish, reaching into the hole to drag out half-melted chunks of ice.
"Aang?? I don't know if you can hear me yet, but I'm right he-"
An icy skull's dark, empty eyesockets stare back at Zuko out of the hole. The prince startles back with a gasp.
Fear and disappointment form in his guts like sharp icicles, stabbing into the core of him.
The corpse in the ice is dressed in a coat that matches Zuko's own, the blue material faded but mostly preserved from years in the ice. The size of it leads him to believe these bones belonged to a man, though he can't decipher much else.
He sees no wounds or weapons, only the water and ice that presumably took the man's life.
The prince keeps his gaze on the body despite his desire to look away, something tightening in his chest as he stares at the lifeless remnant of a soul gone from the world.
"... I'm sorry."
Ozai's voice rings out loud in the prince's head, bringing the phantom sensation of painfully-hot fingers sealing over his face with it.
"Look closely. This is what happens to each of us in the end. It's the fate that awaits you, and everyone that you love. Fight as hard as you like, boy... but death comes for us all."
On that night, a family says goodbye to a son that they lost long ago, and Zuko holds Kya and Hakoda just a little bit tighter when they pull him in for a long embrace.
The prince drags in a shaky breath, staring at the icy expanse around him. He can almost feel his energy draining away and scattering in the wind.
Through searching, memory, and mountains of effort, Zuko knows Aang must be near this spot, but no matter how hard he digs or looks (or prays), he just can't find him.
Desperation claws at his mind. He forces his shoulders up with a small, defeated shrug.
"I don't... I don't know."
He turns aimlessly, dragging a gloved hand through his messy hair in frustration.
"What am I supposed to do? Huh?!"
He tries and fails to rein in the anxiety swarming over his mind, calling out to the empty tundra.
"Aang?? Aang, where are you?!?"
The wind that howls over the barren ice is the only response he gets. Zuko's heartbeat rises into a panicky stutter.
"I just... I can't do this without you, don't you get it?"
A wave of emotion creeps up in his throat, choking him.
Hakoda's lifeless eyes, the smell of homes burning, Ozai's hateful voic-
"I'm not a hero like you are!!"
The words are screamed and break off with a quiet sob, warm tears dripping down his wind-chafed face.
Zuko pushes away the urge to curl in on himself, frustration building. Worry and sadness mix, slowly boiling into anger.
The feel of hot tears on his cheeks only makes him madder.
The rage sparks, catching fire. Zuko spits out a furious yell, driving a blast of fire into the wall of ice nearby.
He lifts his arms and raises a wave of flames, slamming them into the snowy ground.
Ice melts and shifts, chunks splashing into the water as they drop.
The prince pours all of his frustration into the fire, scattering flames around himself with an exhausted scream.
An iceberg cracks from the heat, splitting apart with a thunderous snap. Zuko's eyes widen as it crashes through water and ice, sending reverberations underneath his feet.
He startles at the sound of a crack beneath him, quickly moving over to a spot with steadier ground.
The firebender glances around at the mess, mentally chastising himself for losing control so thoroughly.
"Idiot.. crushed by a self-made avalanche, that'd be an awfully fitting endi-...."
Zuko's heart quickens its pace as a blue glow shines up out of the murky water, chills dancing over his spine.
'That shade of blue..'
He remembers the color vividly. It'd been imprinted on his mind from the day he saw it pierce into the sky like a beacon of hope, though it had been a much darker hope in his heart back then than the one he felt lighting up his chest now.
A sphere of glowing ice breaks through the surface of the water, settling into stillness after a moment.
Zuko sees the outline of a boy and a bison, and that's when his heart feels like it makes a valiant attempt to leap into his throat. He breaks into a run.
"Aang!! It's alright, I'm on my wa- Ahhgh!"
His boot slips on a patch of melting ice, sending him careening backwards onto the ground. Zuko's head hits first, and a baby-blue sky is the last thing he sees before he loses consciousness.
Zuko's skull throbs, the voice speaking to him sounding slightly distorted through his haze.
"Hey there.. are you okay? You look like you're having a pretty rough day."
The prince forces his eyes open, his vision clearing slowly at the sight of a familiar face. The sharp outlines of a blue arrow tattoo settle just above frowning eyebrows that look decidedly out of place on such youthful features.
Aang watches him with worried eyes, but Zuko smiles wearily.
"As long as you're not a hallucination, I'm having a great day."
Aang nods slowly.
"That's not the.. most reassuring answer, but okay. Come on, let me help you up."
The avatar carefully pulls him up to his feet, keeping a close eye on him to make sure he's steady before he loosens his grip.
"What in the world happened to you?"
Such a bewildered question coming from the boy who just popped out of an iceberg in the middle of the nowhere feels just a bit ironic to Zuko, but he can roll with it.
"I.. slipped. It was slippery."
Aang nods, wincing.
"Ow. That makes sense."
Zuko nods with him, and he isn't sure if it's the mild concussion or just the eleven-year old brain that seems wildly less effective at handling his emotions, but either way he staggers forward to envelop the Avatar in a tight hug.
Confusion wraps around Aang like Zuko's arms just did, the young monk hesitantly returning the embrace.
"Oh! Uh, wow. You're a very.. affectionate... clumsy stranger, aren't you?"
The prince nods against his shoulder, awkwardly stepping back after a few seconds.
"Sorry, I just-.. It's so good to see you."
Aang blinks, one eyebrow raising slowly.
"It's... good to see you, too....."
He trails off pointedly, the prince finally responding after a brief pause.
"Oh. I'm Zuko. Of... the southern water tribe."
Aang finally smiles, tapping his own chest proudly.
"I'm Aang, of the southern air temple. It's nice to meet you! I haven't met many people from the water tribe before."
Zuko offers up a distracted grunt, his mind tripping over itself slightly as he tries to decide how to handle all of the things that he needs to tell Aang. He notices the breeze rolling over him getting suddenly warmer and turns in response.
"I've only met one airbender mysel- Agh!!"
Appa stands inches away from Zuko, his body still and his gaze fierce as he stares at the prince with large, suspicious eyes.
Aang cringes, throwing his hands up in apology.
"Sorry! I thought you'd noticed him beside you there. But I suppose he can be pretty sneaky for a big guy.."
Zuko swallows as Appa levels him with a look that he's only ever given to enemies and dinner.
'I wonder if it's all firebenders that he doesn't like.. or just the time-traveling ones...'
"That's okay.. It's my fault, really."
He takes a few steps back for the safety of distance and Aang walks over to scritch at the bison's furry neck.
"What's wrong? You don't like the way he smells, huh?"
Appa snorts in what seems to be both displeasure and agreement, still staring Zuko down like an overripe bushel of fruit.
Aang looks over to the other boy with considering eyes, turning back to the bison after a beat.
"Well.. I think he seems like an alright guy, so let's give him a chance, okay?"
Appa's glare continues, so Aang aims a warm smile at Zuko to make up for it. The monk rubs his hand through thick fur while he glances around.
"Hey Zuko.. could you tell me where exactly we are? I get the feeling that Appa and I are further away from home than I thought."
Zuko exhales softly at the unknowing accuracy in that statement, shrugging slightly.
"I couldn't say exactly where this is, but I know my tribe isn't far from here. You'd be welcome to rest there and ask someone who might have the directions you need."
Aang nods reluctantly, looking over his shoulder to the clear sky behind him.
"I really should be getting back to the temple, I'm sure they're worried about me, but.. Appa doesn't seem to feel like flying right now. I can't say I feel up to making a long trip at the moment, either."
A grumble comes from either Appa's mouth or his stomach, and Aang makes his decision. He turns to the prince with a grin.
"I guess I'll take you up on that offer, then! Lead the way, Zuko."
Notes:
So much of this story and the way it has grown is wild to me. For instance, when I started writing this, it was meant to be a ONE-SHOT. 4, 5k words max. And then that swelled into 3 chapters, which was originally the end of what I'd planned. And now here we are at 8 chapters, with a solid chunk of runway between us and the finale 🙌 not to mention the fact that I hadn't even considered using Iroh and Lu Ten much at the start, and now I've really fallen in love with writing for their characters. It's incredible.
So, thank you again for all the love you've given this story 💕 it wouldn't be half as big or as fun as it is without your support.
Chapter 9: A whisper on the wind
Notes:
Hey y'all! 😁 so sorry for the long wait! Please enjoy this offering of restitution.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Zuko swallows an anxious sigh as he stares at Hakoda and Kya's hut ("it's your hut, too", his mind offers insistently), the feeling of Aang's presence at his back giving him more comfort than he'd ever dare admit aloud.
The two of them stand in silence, Appa having been left discreetly near the edge of the village so as to not cause any unnecessary ruckus by marching a ten-ton bison through the village before they'd had a chance to explain anything.
Aang had worn a distinctly unhappy pout as he told Appa to stay put and wait for them, but he'd done it nonetheless, following Zuko into the village with trusting sureness.
'An entirely too trusting sureness', Zuko thought sourly.
After a few more moments of hesitance, the prince lets go of his worried thoughts, feels them slip away softly with the wind.
'These people have never given me a reason to do anything but trust them.'
He shifts the animal skins draped over the entrance, stepping inside and feeling his body unconsciously relax at the warm air and smell of cooked meat.
Kya looks up from the blade she'd been sharpening, greeting him with a smile that's equal-parts affection and relief.
"Zuko! Is everything alright, darling? You were gone for longer than usual..."
Sokka springs up from underneath a pile of furs in the corner, his hair stuck out in fierce disarray. He forgets to tease the firebender over being called "darling" in his excitement.
"Zuko's back?!"
The prince flushes from the care in their greetings, reddening further as Katara aims a sweet smile at him from beside her mother.
"Nothing's wrong, I just lost track of time and... well. I found... something. While I was out there."
Kya's eyebrow raises toward her hairline. The mother of two ("mother of three", Zuko's brain whispers conspiratorially) seems to turn slightly suspicious in the way parents tend to do when they sense something amiss without much proof to back it up.
"You.. found something?"
"Found... someone," Zuko amends uncomfortably.
He decides to stop digging at the already-deep hole that he's managed to stumble into, reaching back to raise the animal skins and reveal Aang, the young monk still stood patiently and politely outside as he waves cheerfully.
"Hi! You have a lovely home."
Kya and Katara both blink slowly, Sokka's head twisting to the side in incomprehension. The younger boy turns a gaze full of confused exasperation onto Zuko.
"How far did you go out there??"
The prince shifts awkwardly as Kya rises to her feet, stepping forward.
"Hello.. who are you, exactly?"
The avatar rubs at the back of his head sheepishly, though a note of warm pride still slips into his voice as he speaks.
"I'm Aang, of the southern air temple. I'm uh.. also a little lost, though. Heh."
Kya stares at the boy for a few long seconds before she turns to Zuko and mutters "How far did you go out there?"
Zuko cringes slightly, shaking his head in assurance.
"Not that far, I promise. Look, he's lost, clearly a little delirious, and he could use our help."
Kya seems ready to protest, though Zuko quickly continues before she can argue.
"I wouldn't have brought him here if I thought he was dangerous. But that doesn't mean that I'll let my guard down around him, I swear."
Kya's arguments die in her throat, her eyes going suddenly soft as she watches Zuko.
"... I know you wouldn't do anything to put us at risk, dear."
She sighs in acceptance, turning to Aang once more.
"Well, you're our guest then, don't just stand outside in the cold."
Aang smiles at Kya and Zuko gratefully, scurrying inside with the shiver of someone still unused to the sharp bite of chill in the air. His nose wrinkles at the smell of cooking meat, but he bows to Kya respectfully.
"Thank you. I promise I won't impose on your kindness."
Kya gives a pleased nod at his manners, sweeping a hand towards Katara and Sokka as the two younger children curiously amble closer.
The young waterbender stares at Aang with open curiosity, her eyes shifting from the monk's gaze to the tattoo wrapped over the top of his head.
"That's a really pretty color..."
Aang grins shyly, reaching up to touch at the edges of the ink arrow.
"Thank you! Your uh.. your eyes look like- I think... they're a similar color. Mmph."
He ends his sentence with an awkward nod.
Sokka peers at the other boy's head interestedly, turning to look up at his mother.
"Mom! Can we get our tattoos soon?"
Kya shakes her head easily, her eyes glazing over somewhat as she retrieves a seemingly well-worn answer from her mind.
"No, Sokka. You're both still too young."
Sokka pouts intensely, pointing towards Aang's head to signify the depths of her unreasonableness.
"But he's not that much older than us! And he's got one!"
Kya turns her gaze onto her son, her expression still easygoing despite the note of steel creeping into her voice.
"Go live with his parents and then you can do whatever you like, Hmm?"
Sokka sighs as Aang holds back a chuckle, Katara feeling no such qualms as she snickers pointedly.
Zuko looks at the three of them, his friends, all finally in the same place again. It feels so similar, and yet wildly and unmistakably different all at once.
But for the first time since he's been in the past, Zuko finally feels a bone-deep sense that everything is going according to plan. A severe, insistent voice at the back of his skull warns him not to get used to the feeling.
Sokka stares at Aang with a decidedly unimpressed squint.
"... why are you bald? Aren't you supposed to be near our age?"
Aang chokes out an offended squawk, rubbing over his head defensively.
"It's not bald! I shave it. Pretty big difference."
Sokka disagrees with an unconvinced grunt.
"Yeeeah, well... still makes you look like a 90-year old."
Zuko blinks awkwardly as the other two boys glare each other down.
'One hundred and twelve, actually.. he's not far off.'
A mischievous glint shines out of Aang's grey eyes. He nods towards the top of Sokka's head.
"Well at least I don't look like I was attacked by a rabid lemur."
Sokka spits out an annoyed scoff, reaching up to straighten his messy wolf-tail. His hair falls out of place seconds later as his mother gently whacks the back of his head.
"How long are we going to have to keep telling you "Don't antagonize the guests"?"
Sokka sniffs primly.
"As long as you keep bringin' 'em home, I suppose."
Kya breathes out a long-suffering sigh, turning her attention back to Aang.
"My husband will be home soon, and he knows maps and the layout of this area better than almost anyone, so I imagine he'll be able to help you find your way. Beyond that, you're also welcome to stay for dinner."
Aang bows again, relief and appreciation clear on his face.
"Thank you so much. It really means a lo-"
The monk is interrupted by a throaty rumble, Aang's face going slack with shock as he turns to see Appa's snout poking out in between the skins hanging over the doorway. The bison takes a suspicious sniff.
Zuko reaches up to rub wearily at the bridge of his nose as Aang lets out an awkward chuckle, the young avatar turning to face the wide-eyed water tribe family.
"I... don't suppose hay is on the menu tonight?"
Hakoda tugs at his glove, pulling it tighter as he walks toward his home. A smile begins to grow on his face once he hears the excited chatter coming from inside.
He opens his mouth, preparing to call out his arrival, but movement in his peripheral vision stops him. Hakoda pauses stiffly, stepping backwards and turning to look behind his hut.
Appa rests on the ground with all six feet splayed out underneath him, a tuft of hay dangling from the corner of his mouth as he chews leisurely.
Hakoda blinks, his mouth hanging open slightly while the supposedly extinct animal enjoys its snack.
The chief shouts loud enough to be heard through the walls of the hut.
"Sokka!!"
A muffled yell passes back through the walls almost immediately.
"I am not the one who brought it home, okay!"
Hakoda turns away from the cutlery cabinet to glance at the kids sat in a loose circle around the fire pit, Zuko discreetly inching closer to the warm glow while Aang animatedly recounts the story of a particularly fierce penguin-sledding expedition to Katara and Sokka.
The chief sighs and looks over to see Kya staring as well, a distinctly pleased smile tugging at her lips.
"You do know that if we keep collecting children like this, we're going to need a bigger hut."
Kya simply shakes her head softly and settles a hand over her stomach.
"I'm just glad that I didn't have to personally grow these last two myself."
Hakoda and Kya step over with arms full of food, setting down bowls beside each of the children. Aang accepts his plate of dried fruit with a grateful grin.
They all indulge in a few bites before Hakoda decides to speak.
"Aang, my wife tells me that you're looking for the right way home, yes?"
Aang swallows a small mouthful of berries before he replies, nodding along.
"Yeah! I'm.. well, I'm usually pretty good about finding my way back home, but I got caught in a nasty storm when I was out. Me and Appa actually got taken underneath the waves.. I think we almost drowned, heh. We were really out of it once we woke up afterwards. But I'm sure you'd already know all about dealing with rough storms, mister chief, sir."
Hakoda smirks softly at the rambling boy, finger tapping against his knee as he remembers something Kya had mentioned.
"Hmm.. Kya said that you've been staying at the southern air temple. You and your family can't have been there for very long. Do you imagine they're likely to go searching for you soon?"
Aang shakes his head and blinks against an uncomprehending hum.
"Um.. what makes you think that? That we haven't been there very long?"
Dread creeps up across Zuko's spine, his fingers tightening around the bowl in his hand.
'He had to find out sooner or later. It can't be helped.'
Hakoda's brow wrinkles, his shoulder lifting in a slight shrug.
"It's been abandoned for decades. As far as I knew, it still was. So that's why I assumed.."
Zuko bites his lip to the point of pain, stiffly staring ahead.
'it's best that he finds out from them anyways. I'm just not good at.. telling people things like this. I'm not.'
Aang huffs out a disbelieving chuckle.
"That doesn't make any-.. I'm sorry, I don't know where you've been getting your information about that temple, but I was just there not long ago. There are monks in almost every room of the whole place."
Hakoda watches Aang closely, exhaling softly before he responds.
"Son, there hasn't been more than a handful of people in that temple since the fire nation attacked it."
Aang's face goes slack with shock as soon as the words leave Hakoda's mouth, fear beginning to seep into the monk's mind.
"I don't understand. The fire nation-.. none of what you're saying makes any sense! Just- just tell me what's going on here."
Sympathy softens Hakoda's weary expression. Kya stares at the young monk with concern as Sokka and Katara glance at each other in confusion.
The chief's voice becomes somber.
"You seem confused... so I think we need to clear some things up."
A dark pit sits in Zuko's stomach, guilt and shame pouring in and filling it to its brim. He finally manages to stand, walking over slowly to deposit his untouched bowl of food beside Kya as the sound of Aang's shattered sob repeats endlessly in his head.
The prince turns to walk away, but Kya's quiet voice stops him.
"Are you going to talk with him?"
She inclines her head toward the exit that Aang had disappeared through moments ago.
Zuko avoids her eyes, clearing his throat softly.
"No. I... I'm not good at talking to people about.. about things like this. Sokka might know what to say to him, though."
Kya gently shakes her head, watching Zuko with an emotion that he doesn't quite recognize.
"Sokka, and Katara.. they haven't felt pain like this yet, so they can't truly understand it. But I think you can."
She looks at him with condolence in her gaze, the color of her eyes seeming to be a darker blue in the low light.
"I wish that it wasn't that way... children shouldn't have to know this feeling. No one should. But I suppose it's just part of the world that we live in.. and it likely always will be."
She reaches out to squeeze his hand.
"Pain is a part of being human, but I can see in your eyes that you already know this lesson well.. that's why I think you're better suited to help him than you believe you are."
Zuko hesitates, searching through himself for the proof that Kya's words are more than empty reassurance.
But then her hand squeezes around his own, the belief in her blue eyes shining so strongly that the prince feels his doubt wash away like the water of a departing tide.
"... I'll try."
Zuko pulls in a deep breath, steeling his nerves as he approaches Aang. The other boy is sat on the ground in front of Appa, the bison softly rumbling at his rider.
Aang looks smaller than Zuko ever remembers seeing him, absolute surrender weighing down on the loose slump of his shoulders as he sniffles wetly.
The prince slowly moves closer, lowering himself onto the ground near the other boy. The young avatar simply curls in on himself tighter in response.
Zuko pinches at the material of his coat, his mind thrumming anxiously.
'What do you say to someone who's lost everything? "I'm sorry"? "Tough luck, bud"?'
He knows how little the words can seem to mean in those moments. His mind, unbidden, latches onto a hazy memory.
Uncle's strong arms wrapping around him, a gentle palm circling over his back. Pain in the older man's voice.
"It'll be alright, Zuko. I promise."
The prince's body shaking with pained tremors, half-swallowed sobs slipping out as tears burn through his left eye and soak the bandages wrapped over it.
Zuko steadies his thoughts, then speaks.
"... my father is the fire lord."
He hears a surprised pause in the other boy's breathing before he continues.
"I left what I thought was my home and came here because I finally realized that I was strong enough to stand against him, to stand against his idea of what the world should be."
Zuko swallows tightly, assaulted by memories of charred temple-walls and carelessly discarded airbender bones.
"When I saw what my nation did to your people.. It was the first time that I ever understood just how much pain we'd brought into the world."
He takes a moment to breathe before he pushes onward.
"I can't promise you that it'll ever stop hurting, because it won't. I can't promise you that there is anything that could ever make it right, because there isn't. But what I can promise is that.. no matter how alone you may feel right now, you aren't. I swear it."
Zuko waits patiently for Aang's response, but only silence fills the air.
The prince opens his mind to another memory.
Katara's eyes pierce into Zuko like shards of blue ice, her suspicious gaze barely leaving him even as she holds a conversation with Suki.
The prince bites back a frustrated grumble, turning from the waterbender's icy stare to watch Aang as the young avatar practices his breathing exercises.
He keeps his voice low for only Aang to hear, folding his arms in agitation.
"I don't understand why she keeps giving me such a hard time. I've said I was sorry. I told her I don't want to hurt any of you again. I just-.. agh, I don't know what it is that I need to say so she can believe me."
Aang's eyes shift from Zuko to Katara, a deep understanding settling on his face.
"Sometimes... words alone just aren't enough. They can't always reach people, y'know? In times like that.. I think maybe the best thing you can do is just try to show them what you mean. Show them that you really believe it."
Zuko exhales softly. He pushes his palms into the icy ground, slowly sliding himself closer to Aang.
The prince gently presses himself against Aang's side, Appa rumbling unhappily as his rider nervously tenses up.
Cold air sweeps across the three of them, tension tightening in the atmosphere around them.
But after a long moment, Aang relaxes against Zuko's side, leaning some of his weight onto the other boy.
The firebender reaches out a hand towards Appa calmly. The bison takes one last contemplative sniff before his tongue rolls out and washes Zuko's hand in appreciation.
Moonlight shines down brightly on the three of them, warding off the dark.
Zuko watches and waits, a week passing by as Aang slowly comes to terms with everything he's been told.
Finally, on one particularly windy day, Aang's smile shines out warm and genuine like Zuko remembers them, unlike the pained facsimile they've seen him attempt over the last several days.
That's when the prince knows that Aang is ready to hear the rest of what needs to be told.
Zuko waits until they have a moment alone, the two of them trudging through the snow looking for otter-penguins. He stares at the young monk's back, working up the courage to say what he needs to.
The prince's mouth opens and closes as he tries to decide on the best collection of words to use for this particular situation, his hands sweating inside his gloves.
Aang raises an eyebrow when he notices Zuko staring. The firebender blinks awkwardly.
"... hi."
Aang's eyes wrinkle up in confusion, but he offers a little wave before he turns back around and continues on.
Zuko yells at himself internally, stopping in his tracks as he finally spits out the words rattling violently inside his mind.
"Aang... I need to tell you something."
The avatar slows his pace and turns to look over his shoulder, his eyes focused and caring in a way that Zuko is only just beginning to get used to.
He'd been looked at that way before, whenever uncle's gaze landed on him in the past.. but Zuko had been too immature to appreciate it then. It had only ever frustrated him, in truth.. had only served to make him angry for feeling like a replacement for a man he knew he could never live up to.
But now, so many people look at him with those caring eyes... even Aang, who's known him for no more than a week, treats him like a true friend.
'How do all these people love so easily?'
The monk's eyes are settled on him curiously. Zuko mentally shakes off the thoughts that have begun to swarm his brain, refocusing.
"You said that it was fate.. or- or the universe that had brought us together. Or even spirits that led me to where I could find you. But i know for a fact that it wasn't any of those things."
Aang's eyebrows are furrowed, a mix of boyish worry and curiosity plastered across his face.
Zuko swallows reflexively, running a gloved-hand through his messy and steadily growing hair.
"We... we've seen a lot of crazy stuff in our lives, so. So I'm just asking for you to.. please keep an open mind."
Aang nods earnestly, and Zuko finally decides to drop the weight from his chest.
"The reason I knew how to find you is because... I'm from-.. the future."
The avatar's eyes narrow. Zuko braces himself for the avalanche of bewildered disbelief that he expects.
But then the young monk's shoulders start shaking slightly with laughter, and Zuko feels a spark of frustration in his stomach.
Aang's cheeks widen with an easy grin.
"Ahhh.. so, is Sokka gonna wander out now, dressed up like an old man and telling me he's from the future, too?"
"No! I'm really from the future. For real."
Zuko forces himself to bite back a growl as Aang nods placatingly. The prince decides to push harder.
"I know that you're the avatar."
Aang's grin goes shaky for a brief moment, but he recovers.
"Look, just because I'm an airbender doesn't mean that I'm the avatar! Think about how many of my people-.. think about how many of my people are gone. The avatar was probably one of them, and the person you're looking for is a waterbender now. The cycle goes on, Zuko."
The prince shakes his head softly.
"No. I know that you're the avatar, not because you're an airbender, but because I've seen what you can do, Aang. And you aren't just any old avatar, you're.. you're a damn good one."
Aang's calm mood evaporates entirely once Zuko is finished speaking, the monk shrugging in agitation.
"Alright, I don't like this joke any more. I don't know why you'd even bring this up with everything that's happened rec-"
Zuko sees his chance to be believed slipping away and breaking apart in front of his eyes. His hand reaches out to clasp the other boy's shoulder as he speaks, desperation and passion both overflowing in his voice.
"We can't concern ourselves with what was; we must act on what is."
Aang's eyes fill with shock, the breath knocked out of his chest as if he'd been struck.
"... where did you hear those words?"
Zuko squeezes at Aang's tensed shoulder, genuine gratitude painted over his face.
"A friend said them to me once.. when I was struggling with the weight of everything that I've been and done in my life."
Aang shakes his head with growing confusion.
"Those are-.. Gyatso said that. I don't.."
"You're the one that sent me here, Aang. You used the technique from the scroll and-"
The monk's eyes sharpen in recognition.
"A time-bending scroll?"
Zuko pauses at the unfamiliar name.
"I.. guess so. I didn't exactly get the full description before I left."
Aang runs a hand over his head nervously, stepping back to pace through the snow.
"That would be- I mean, it's the one thing I know of that could do something like that."
The avatar rubs at both sides of his forehead, desperately trying to wrap his mind around what he's been presented with.
"I heard the older monks talking about them a few times, always discussing it really quietly and never for very long. They said it worked by sending your soul into a past version of yourself. I.. used to assume that whoever activated the technique would be the one sent back, but.."
The boy trails off, looking at Zuko with an awkward mix of envy and apology.
"Guess I was.. wrong on that one. But... you're really telling me that we came up with a plan to do something this crazy?"
Zuko hesitates, Aang's expression of confusion and fear when he activated the technique flashing in his mind, along with the prince's own panicked shouts.
"Yeah, that's.. that's pretty much how it went."
Aang scrubs a hand down his face, a bit of warmth finally returning to his face as he stares at the other boy.
"... I must trust you a lot, even more than I thought I already did."
Zuko shrugs gently, carefully avoiding Aang's eyes.
"I don't.. really know if I deserve it, but... yeah. I think you do."
Aang smiles softly, a bit more shock creeping onto his face.
"Gosh, I- I can't even imagine how much you would have to trust me to go along with something like this."
Zuko finally meets Aang's eyes then, steady belief running through his words.
"Well.. you haven't led me wrong yet, so."
Aang nods slowly, glancing off into the distance before he speaks again.
"And we're doing this for the war, right? So that we can stop it?"
Zuko hums in agreement.
"With what I know and what you're capable of.. we have a chance. A good one."
Aang's face twists with a grimace.
"Things must get pretty bad if we decided it was worth the risk of time-bending."
Zuko blinks, a droplet of worry splashing in his mind.
"The risk? What risk, exactly? Aside from.. the obvious."
One of Aang's eyebrows raises towards his tattoo.
"I didn't tell you before we used the technique?"
The firebender exhales forcefully.
"Not really. It all happened kind of fast, okay."
An unsettled wince crosses the avatar's face.
"Oh.. um. From what I heard the monks say, they usually brought up the exact same reason why it would be irresponsible to use every time they discussed it. And it was that it would just be too hard to predict what might be changed if they did."
Zuko crosses his arms, mentally grasping at the other boy's reasoning.
"I don't understand. Isn't the whole point of something like this to change things?"
The young monk gestures unsurely with his hands.
"Yeah, but.. when you use a technique like this, they said that it doesn't just effect time to the point where you arrived, it can alter the flow of time even further back. Regardless of what you do once you arrive, It's like... dropping a pebble into a pond; no matter how small it is or how gently it's dropped, the water will ripple outward from where it falls. Just activating the technique on its own is enough to change stuff."
Zuko's heart speeds up, anxiety brewing deeply in his brain.
"Oh. Well... I'm pretty sure I would have noticed if anything really big had changed."
Lu Ten drags a calloused hand across his eyes, wincing against a faint but noticeable headache. The sight of the sizable stack of ship-departure manifests sat in front of him only worsens the dull pain.
The excess of traffic in and out of the harbor makes the task of finding the ship that Zuko departed on a bigger mystery than it should be, a situation that isn't helped by Ozai's long-standing order to retrieve any valuable artifacts discovered in enemy territory. Ships carrying art, jewels, and statues were often brought in from all over the world, a process that's only just beginning to slow under his father's altered orders.
In truth, it was a practice that had always unsettled Lu Ten, something that had seemed to be driven more by the desire to rob people of their history and culture than to actually pad out their funds for the war effort.
He still feels a note of distinct relief that his father had agreed with him on that point.
Lu Ten glances up at the thought of his father, eyeing the empty chair sat across from his manifest-covered desk. Iroh had assisted him in the search through harbor files for as long as he was able to (seemingly to the chagrin of his advisors, who insisted that he "had more pressing duties to attend to" and that their "very best men had been assigned to the task of locating Prince Zuko")
Lu Ten rolls his head around to loosen the straining nerves in his neck, glaring at the papers on his desk with renewed annoyance. They'd been mostly confusing thus far, but...
There was one person who almost certainly already knew the information that they wanted, or at the very least knew more than the paltry amount of facts that he and his father had managed to gather.
Lu Ten hums consideringly to himself. Iroh had warned him to stay away from Ozai, and made it clear that he thought nothing good or helpful could be gleaned from a visit with the man.
But after all... warnings really were just strongly-worded suggestions, weren't they?
He contemplates what he wants to say during his walk to the holding cells, wondering what combination of words will be enough to incense Ozai to the point where he might slip and reveal something useful.
Ozai was no fool, but lost tempers had a way of making even the cleverest of men a bit stupid from time to time.
It was ironic, Lu Ten thought, how the people who deemed themselves invincible were the ones who often had the most glaring weaknesses.
His mind quiets after that, staying that way until he finally arrives at the entrance to the holding cells.
The guard station seems empty at first glance, but that isn't entirely unusual. Even the most dedicated guards have to take bathroom breaks eventually, though it may be best if he speaks to the men about leaving their posts at the same time. That's more of an unnecessary risk than he cares to see.
Lu Ten has never seen the soldiers placed at the holding cells take their positions as seriously as those in different locations seemed to do, something likely bolstered by the fact that they hadn't had a successful (or even semi-successful) escape attempt from the cells in over fifty years.
He glances around, beginning to pace as he waits.
Then he notices the helmet with a dented and bloody face-plate dropped carelessly to the floor in the far corner of the guard station.
Lu Ten sucks in a shocked breath, darting forward to slide in between the desk and bars above it, noticing the guard crumpled against the wall with splattered red dripping down his swollen face as soon as he's inside.
He drops down to press his fingers against the guard's neck, almost surprised to find a strong pulse. The man is unconscious though, and likely to stay that way for a while.
Lu Ten looks to the man's belt, finding the loop that had held the keys to the cells dangling broken at his waist. The severity of the situation hits him properly then, adrenaline flooding his veins.
He slips over the desk with anxious speed, bolting to the entrance gate that leads deeper into the cells.
It stays firmly locked when he yanks at the bars, a hushed curse falling from his mouth in response.
He could try and melt the lock, but the steel of the cells and bars being made specifically to withstand firebending puts a snag in that plan.
Lu Ten drops into a crouch, pulling at the two needles holding his hair in place. The thin pins slide free, his bun falling loose as hair drapes down over his nape. He slips them into the keyhole, but the slight shake in his hands and the quality of the lock prolong the task.
After a minute that feels like it stretches on for hours, the lock finally clicks open. Lu Ten snaps upright, swinging the gate back and sprinting down the lantern-lit hallway. He comes to a flight of descending stairs, feet barely touching every other step before he hits the floor again.
He notices the secondary guard-station's barren state, but he barrels forward to the cell that every fiber of his being tells him has been broken into.
The sound of echoing voices reach his ears and he finally slows his pace, pressing against the wall and creeping ahead to the edge of a corner in the crossing hallways.
One glance around the corner confirms his fear; the door to Ozai's cell is opened wide. Men fill the hall like fish packed into a barrel, all but one of them dressed in dark civilian-attire.
The odd man out wears the uniform of a guard, likely the soldier who'd sucker-punched his partner upstairs and let the rest of these men into the cells.
'I need to go get backup. I need to go now.' The thought repeats over and over in his head, oddly weightless.
There's no time to go for backup. These men will be gone by the time he could find help, and Ozai will be gone with them.
He can't let Ozai escape. He has to fight now, has to be brave.
But he remembers what happened on the last day he was brave.
Warm blood spilling over the sides of his abdomen, raw screams ripping from his throat as he's dragged away from the sound of blazing flames and rippling earth-
Lu Ten shuts his eyes and banishes the memory from his mind. He squeezes his hands into fists, acceptance burning into determination.
'Letting Ozai go would hurt worse than any wound they could give me.'
The sound of steel-restraints snapping loose rings out through the hall and Lu Ten realizes there's no time left to spare.
He darts around the corner quickly, staying low as he moves forward. They don't see him until he's almost close enough to touch.
One of the soldiers shouts in alarm and Lu Ten strikes, leaping up and driving his feet into the nearest soldier's chest. He uses the momentum to send himself backwards, slamming an elbow into another man's jaw.
He follows up with a second elbow to the man's nose after his feet are back on the ground, incapacitating him.
Lu Ten turns his focus forward to the man struggling to recover from the dropkick, throwing himself towards him with a jumping knee-strike to the chin. The hit connects, the soldier slumping to the floor limp and unconscious.
Three more men rush to close in on Lu Ten, and it's then that he notices the rest of the soldiers fleeing down the hall with Ozai in tow.
He deflects a frenzied fireball and drives his boot into the knee of the soldier that threw it, stumbling the man.
Lu Ten catches the wrist of another soldier to stop his punch, smashing a forearm into the man's face to dissuade a second attempt.
Dealing with two of his opponents at once leaves him vulnerable to the third. The soldier hesitates only for the brief second it takes to identify his opening and strike.
Lu Ten's whole body shudders with pain as a fist is slammed into his stomach, the damaged nerve-endings along his scar lighting up in agony.
Prodding fingers on his wound, the coppery scent of blood forcing its way up his nose in a rush-
Lu Ten swallows a gasp, yanking one soldier to the side with so much force that he slams into the man clutching at his knee. The one who'd struck him in the scar lashes out with another punch, but the fire lord's son dodges stiffly.
He throws up his leg and swipes a kick at the soldier's head, the man ducking out of the way at the last second. Lu Ten adjusts the course of his leg while it's in the air, twisting to his side and driving his foot into the soldier's stomach.
A slightly vindictive wave of satisfaction rolls over him as the soldier spits out a pained wheeze in response to the strike.
Lu Ten draws his leg in and spins, extending it once again just before his heel connects sharply with the side of the soldier's skull.
The man wobbles and drops to his knees. Lu Ten settles a hand over his aching stomach for a brief moment before he snaps his leg up and brings his heel down onto the top of the soldier's head one last time.
The fire lord's son turns before the soldier has even finished slumping to the ground in unconsciousness, eyes landing on the two men hesitating to step back into the fray.
Lu Ten steps forward before they can find their courage, sucking in a deep breath before he spins and swings his arms upward in a sharp arc. A blast of flame explodes in front of his arms, sending the men hurtling back down the hallway before they land in a motionless, sizzling heap.
He snaps his focus to the other end of the hallway, bursting into a run in pursuit of Ozai. His mind races along with his sprinting steps.
'I can't fight Ozai and all the rest of these men at once, but I can't let him make it out of here either. He'll disappear in minutes if he hits the surface. I can't. I can't-'
He slows his pace as he nears the corner that the men had turned into, turning his gaze down the split-off hallway. It takes his mind only half of a second to register Ozai's indifferent, calculating expression at the end of the hall.
Then he spots the black powder dusting the floor in front of him, as well as the barrel it's spilling out of.
Lu Ten's heart seems to stutter from the adrenaline that he's drowning in, the hallway lighting up bright and hot as fire blasts from three different soldiers race down the hall.
It's instinct more than anything that forces him to throw his body to the side, but the impact of the explosive-powder going off practically snatches him out of mid-air, sending him backwards into a wall with crushing force.
He smacks into the floor just as massive chunks of the ceiling begin crashing down around him. The fire lord's son just barely manages to wrap his hands protectively around his head through his shellshocked daze.
Rubble collapses and piles up over Lu Ten's body, covering everything from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet.
He shuts his eyes and tries to breathe through the feeling of the world crumbling down atop him.
After a moment (he isn't sure if it lasts five seconds or five minutes), the rubble finally settles into stillness, as does the silence.
Lu Ten tries to pull in a deep breath, struggling as the pressure on top of him refuses to shift even an inch.
His heart beats a little faster.
He opens his eyes, blinking against the dust and darkness.
His pinned hands shake with tremors, nerves beginning to tingle as they're cut off from blood-flow. His stomach throbs with piercing pain.
Pain, pain, so much pain. He never knew a body could feel this much hurt, never knew a body could spill this much blood and still live.
"I'm- I'm gonna li- live, right? I'll be- I'm okay?"
His voice hasn't shaken like this since he was a child, staring up at his father with bruises on his knuckles and shame in his heart.
The healer doesn't spare him a glance, hurriedly stitching at the gaping wound over his stomach.
The sound of his heart pumping begins to roar in his ears, panic clawing at the edges of his mind.
He squirms against the inescapable pressure that's keeping him pushed into the floor. Then the smell creeps up into his nose, an unmistakable mix of dirt-particles and ash.
It's exactly what the battlefield at Ba Sing Se always smelled like.
"No. No. No, no, not this, help me-"
Even the desperation that fills his voice sounds exactly as it did on that day.
"Help me. Please. You ha- have to help me."
The healer's eyes don't leave the task at his fingertips, grim determination lining his face and laced through his voice.
"I'm doing all that I can, son."
Lu Ten isn't sure if it's the fear or the pain that causes his body to shiver, but the trembling almost rocks the cot underneath him.
"You- you don't understand. I-... I'm not ready to go. I'm not ready. Please."
He just... Isn't finished yet. There's still so much to see, so much to feel. He hasn't met the other half of his soul yet, hasn't felt their touch, hasn't seen Zuko grow into the man he knows he can be, hasn't played enough Pai Sho games with his father, hasn't loved enough, hasn't lived enough, it can't be over-
"I know it's hard, but I need you to stop shaking, son. Try your best."
Lu Ten pulls in a quivering breath, pushing his arms down into the cot in a futile effort to stop their trembling. A pleading whisper slips from his mouth.
"I... I need someone to find my- my dad. I need to see him. Need him. I have to say goodb-"
Lu Ten screams, dragging it out until his throat feels raw. He finds desperate respite in the ache, the way it tells him he's still alive.
He shakes his head to himself, defiance in the small motion.
"Not here. I'm not done yet."
Lu Ten grits his teeth and presses down onto his forearms, straining against the debris. It refuses to move, the young man shaking his head once more.
"I said no, damn it!"
He roars through gritted teeth and pushes with every muscle in his body, flames boiling in his belly.
The rubble shifts by an inch, and he redoubles his efforts with a strained bellow.
Stone grinds against stone as the debris lifts, sliding backwards and tumbling down. Lu Ten bursts up with an exhausted gasp, yanking his legs free and staggering forward over the pile of broken materials.
He slumps against the wall, sucking in lungfuls of air. He turns to look at the hallway Ozai had disappeared into, eyeing the rubble that fills it and the shattered ceiling above it.
The former fire lord is likely beyond reach now, cloaked by the shadows and running to wherever his men intend to hide him away before they can all strike again.
Lu Ten ignores the pang of defeat settling into his belly, pushing off of the wall and moving to stumble down the smoky hallway. He knows that there's still one person he may be able to stop, one person that he might be able to save.
And yet, he knows he's too late as soon as he enters the palace. The guards are curled up on the ground, unconscious and likely concussed, but alive.
Lu Ten walks toward the bed-chambers slowly, unhurried and darkly assured of what awaits him.
He steps over the unconscious forms of three more guards before he reaches his destination.
Azula's door opens quietly under his hand, the silence unbroken by the empty room that lays beyond it. Her sheets aren't ruffled, the bed still perfectly made and waiting for its owner. He supposes she hadn't even attempted to sleep before they arrived.
The fire lord's son steps over to the wall and presses his back against it, sliding down to the floor slowly.
He sits there as time passes, listening to the slowly growing commotion outside as the search for Ozai ramps up in intensity.
Some of the guards begin to stir, and he takes a moment to be thankful that Ozai's men still retained enough honor to use non-lethal means to incapacitate their fellow soldiers.
His father's heavy, rushed footsteps sound out across the floor after a moment, the fire lord dropping to his knees gracelessly in front of his son. Warm hands settle worriedly on Lu Ten's scraped cheeks.
"Son? Are you alright??"
He reaches up to grab the older man's hand, fingers gripping tightly to reassure both his father and himself.
"I'm okay, dad... I'm still here."
Iroh nods in relief, his eyes still locked carefully on his son's face. After he calms, his gaze turns to the open door and the emptiness inside Azula's room.
Anger washes over his face slowly but deeply, something both hurt and enraged swelling in his eyes.
Lu Ten lets his head fall back against the wall softly, a hand settling over his aching scar. Azula's empty bed flashes in his mind. Distantly, he can't help but wonder if this heir had left as willingly as the last.
Notes:
My life has been an absofuckinglute mess for seeeeeveral months now, which has seriously impacted my ability to write and focus 🙈😌 that being said, Burning Wings is the only story I intend to work on for the foreseeable future, so it will receive any and all attention that I'm able to give it 💛 all you awesome people who have supported this story deserve the rest of it. 🙌 and for obvious reasons, I adore comments and hearing what y'all thought of the story. Much love <3
Chapter 10: A war of change
Notes:
Well, it took almost 6 months 💀 but here's the 10th chapter!
I hope you enjoy it 💜 thank you so much for reading.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Lu Ten sinks further down into his chair, absentmindedly scratching at the dark cat that has claimed his lap. He wonders if he'd be able to enjoy the warmth of the sunlight and the cool breeze flowing through the room even if every one of his bones wasn't aching like they were about to crumble.
He hears his father shuffling something across the floor just before the older man speaks.
"Ahh.. I see that Spark has decided to grace you with her notoriously fickle affections."
The cat's faint purring seems to intensify as Lu Ten's fingers move to scratch higher on her back, a quiet scoff leaving his mouth in response.
"It feels like I'm the only one giving out the affection in this deal, but sure."
The prince scratches softly until pain catches his attention, the ache in his back seemingly demanding that he reposition. He shifts with an annoyed grunt, struggling to find a spot in the chair that doesn't agitate his nagging injuries.
Spark swishes her tail in frustration at the movement, rising to leap out of his lap. She strolls over to a section of the stone floor that's bathed in sunlight, settling down and curling into a dark ball of fur.
Lu Ten breathes out a weary sigh, rubbing over the small cuts on his fingers. He'd thought that being stabbed in the stomach by a rock spike would by far be the closest that he would ever come to death, but being blown up and buried in rubble by his psychotic uncle had come frighteningly close to putting him underneath a headstone once again.
The scar on his belly throbs with renewed vigour. The prince grits his teeth, haunted by old aches and new pains.
There's a soft shuffle of cloth as his father steps closer, the Fire Lord's voice slipping out low and somber when he speaks.
"I'm sorry.. that I wasn't there when you needed me most."
The weight of guilt in his father's words makes Lu Ten think that he isn't the only one reminiscing on the pains of both past and present all at once. He recalls the gobsmacked horror on his father's face when he'd first laid eyes on the wound from the spike, the way that his eyes had locked onto the row of dark stitches that stood out against Lu Ten's near-lifelessly pale skin.
He turns to look at his father, locking their gazes.
"You can't be everywhere all at once, dad. I don't blame you for what happened... None of it."
Iroh smiles softly and sadly, a distinct note of relief flooding into his eyes. He steps closer and clasps his hand warmly onto his son's shoulder.
"I know our situation at present seems.. dark, but trust in me when I say that everything will be alright, my boy."
Lu Ten reaches up to settle his hand fondly over his father's, unable to resist the bleak hum that vibrates out of his throat.
"I do trust you. But I struggle to see anything that looks like it will be okay, much less everything..."
Iroh nods in understanding, squeezing the prince's shoulder reassuringly before he steps away to walk towards his desk.
"I may be able to offer a sliver of inspiring news."
Lu Ten shifts in his chair, wincing as his neck protests the movement.
"That is certainly something that's in short supply these days."
Iroh grunts in agreement, peering out through one of the room's spacious windows to look at the city below.
"Well, after we found the transit records that had been destroyed in your office, I decided to go and check the records room to see if any more files had been burnt. It was spotless."
The Fire Lord taps his finger against the desk, his eyes roaming over the buildings of Caldera.
"This means one of two things; Ozai's rebels were either operating on a finite amount of allotted time as they escaped and chose to destroy the set of files housed in the place with the lightest security, or..."
Iroh turns back to his son, the Fire Lord's finger raised dramatically.
"They knew that the particular set of records you were investigating would lead you to Zuko's vessel of escape from the city, and thus destroyed those and only those files."
Lu Ten blinks at his father's raised finger.
"Um... while it's nice to know that I was on the right track in the investigation, those files are, as you say, burnt to ash now. I'm failing to see the inspiration."
Iroh snaps his fingers, oddly cheery for a man discussing the burnt remains of their hope for finding a missing family-member. He walks around to the other side of his desk, bending down behind it.
"Aha! The inspiration lies in the fact that I-"
Iroh grunts and hefts a heavy crate up onto his desk, grinning serenely.
"-decided to discreetly commission copies of all transit records from the night that Zuko left as soon as I took the throne."
Lu Ten's eyes widen as he looks at the crate of files, a shocked smile beginning to form on his lips.
Iroh's grin grows wider in response.
"Do you still feel that inspiration is in short supply?"
"... well, there seems to be a surplus arriving just now."
Hesitation begins to seep into Zuko's gait, his footsteps subtly slowing as he marches through the snow. Aang, perceptive as always, notices.
".. Are you worried?"
Zuko sighs quietly, pushing on through the icy powder beneath his feet.
"Yes. But it'll be fine."
The prince takes comfort in the fact that for once, he can truly believe those words.
They don't have to walk for very long before the village comes back into view, lanterns gradually being lit as the sun slides down past the horizon. Hakoda is stood outside by himself, gathering firewood from the hut's stockpile when they arrive. The fact that he's alone is a small help in the knotty task ahead of them.
The chief nods at them as they approach, wood clacking together in his arms.
"Hello, boys. Find the otter-penguins you were after?"
Zuko shakes his head minutely, struggling to keep his eyes locked with Hakoda's own.
"We.. didn't see much of anything out there today, actually."
Hakoda nods again, watching the boys closely as he seemingly senses the tension in the air. Zuko's fists clench and unclench with nervous energy.
Aang clears his throat, deciding to take on most of the heavy lifting for Zuko's sake.
"We actually need to talk to you about something, sir. I... look, it's gonna sound ridiculous, but I swear to you that we aren't wasting your time here. Now.... One hundred years ago, I-"
"Aang is the avatar."
"-oh, you just.. straight into the good stuff, sure, sure."
Aang alternates his stare between Zuko and Hakoda, his hand rubbing nervously at the back of his neck.
The chief watches them for a moment before he exhales, fondness and a pinch of fatherly exasperation filling his voice.
"I love a good game as much as anyone, boys. But it's getting late, so go on inside and get dinner in your bellies, before the food freezes with everything else."
He turns to carry the wood inside, but Zuko's voice stops him.
"it's not a game."
Hakoda's eyebrows wrinkle together in confusion at the steel in Zuko's words. The prince turns to look at Aang before he speaks again.
"Show him."
Aang nods, taking in a short breath before he forms a ball of spinning air above his flattened palm.
Hakoda blinks.
"I don't-"
His sentence cuts off suddenly when water begins to rise out of the barrel beside the hut, flowing smoothly as it drifts towards Aang's other hand. The liquid forms into a ball as well and Aang holds the two elements suspended above his hands, a sheepish smile on his face as he does.
The wood in Hakoda's arms clatters quietly into the snow.
They all suffer through an awkward dinner together, Aang falling far below his usual level of chattiness, Hakoda reduced to pensive silence, and Zuko operating in his typical mode of unsure quiet.
Sokka does his best to fill the void of silence around the table, though his eyes scan repeatedly over the three responsible for it as the night wears on.
The youngest children are put to bed after supper, and it's then that Hakoda takes his wife by the arm and leads her outside into the cold with Zuko and Aang trailing behind them.
Kya breathes in deeply, her eyes locked tightly onto the orbs of water and air hovering over Aang's hands. The young monk lowers his hands and allows the elements to disperse, clearing his throat meekly as the chief and his wife both stare.
Kya blinks, shaking her head lightly in seeming disbelief.
"The Avatar?"
Aang bites his lip gently and nods.
"Yep! That's... me."
Kya exhales deeply, her breath fogging up the cold air in front of her face.
"How?"
Aang swallows uncomfortably, nodding.
"Appa and I were flying one night. We were in the middle of a terrible storm.. I never should've taken us out that night. But by the time I realized that, it was already too late. The storm pushed us low, and then we ended up underwater. We would've drowned, but.. I think my abilities saved us, and kept us alive... for the hundred years that we were stuck there."
Kya's breathing softly stutters in shock, her voice low and faint.
"... a hundred years?"
Aang tries to summon up a weak smile, not quite succeeding in his efforts.
"You're not the only one that can hardly believe it, trust me."
Kya's eyes drift down to the pale snow at her feet, Hakoda seemingly deep in thought beside her.
Aang shifts on his feet, his hand fidgeting anxiously at his waist. Zuko sees it, imagining Ozai's voice as clearly as if he'd heard it moments ago.
"He's scared.. and why is he scared? Because he's weak. Fear is the folly of the powerless. Strong men have no need for cowardly pani-"
Zuko reaches out swiftly, wrapping his own clammy hand around Aang's. The worry on the young monk's face doesn't subside, but his hand squeezes back against Zuko's fingers gratefully.
The prince thinks of his Ozai's proud, sneering face, and the coldly calculating voice that had always accompanied it. Zuko's heart thumps calmly as he banishes his father's specter from his mind for the last time.
'Be quiet. I don't need you anymore, old fool... I never really did in the first place.'
Kya and Hakoda's eyes meet, the pair of them sharing a look before the chief speaks.
"So... what does this mean? For the two of you?"
Zuko speaks without hesitation, his answer recited but truthfully fierce.
"It means we're going to fight. To stop Ozai and help end the war. Or.. end however much of it that we can."
Hakoda stares for a moment, his eyes shifting between the two boys.
"... you're children. It isn't right for you to be dragged into this bloodshed."
Zuko nods softly.
"It isn't right.. but it is the spot that life has given us. There's no changing that."
Kya's eyes shine sadly in the faint moonlight, but Hakoda shakes his head defiantly.
"No. It can be changed. All you have to do is just... say no to the fight. Walk away.. until we can prepare you, at least."
Zuko responds with a stubborn shake of his own head, staring up at Hakoda with resigned determination.
"Ozai... Sozin. All the others like them. They've taken so much from so many, and never shed a tear for any of it. They won't ever stop, unless someone forces them to. And every minute that we spend on the sidelines wastes lives, causes suffering that we have a chance to end."
The prince's breathing hastens, anger darkening his features.
"My father, my grandfather.. when I saw how pitifully empty their justification for all this hurt was, it sickened me.. and it made me hate them."
Tears claw their way up to fill Zuko's eyes, but he blinks them away carelessly.
"If I stand back and let them get away with it all, I'll grow to hate even myself. So all of this, fighting, stopping this war... I'm doing it for myself just as much as I'm doing it for everyone else."
The defiance on Hakoda's face crumbles, fading into mournful understanding.
Aang squeezes Zuko's hand once more, the monk's eyes red-rimmed and unwavering.
"I could never turn away from people in need, not when I know that I have the power to help. These men.. they tried to erase my people from the face of the earth. They shattered my home, and my family. I'll never let them do that to anyone else."
A tear slips from Kya's eyes, sliding down her cheek and falling to land in the expanse of snow beneath her feet. She turns to look at her husband, and together they quietly accept the fate that has been spread out in front of them.
A silent, sorrowful moment passes before Kya speaks.
"What's the next step, then?"
Zuko and Aang exhale quietly, something almost like relief passing through them both.
"Aang has to be trained, which means he needs a waterbending master, so.. we have to go to the northern tribe."
Hakoda nods faintly, but he startles at the voice that speaks from behind him.
"I'm going, too."
The chief stares at his son with wide eyes. Sokka stands stubbornly, feet planted firmly in the snow.
"Sokka. Damn it, boy.. go back to bed, right now. It's too cold out h-"
"No."
Hakoda's face wrinkles in frustration.
"Sokka, I am not joking-"
"No, Dad!"
Sokka's expression matches his father's, frustration keeping him rooted in place. The boy throws up a hand to point at Zuko and Aang.
"You heard what they said, dad. I can't just walk away from that."
Hakoda and Kya's faces both fall as they realize how much he's heard. The chief raises a placating hand.
"I understand, but you're too young-"
"I am not too young to help save my family!"
Sokka breathes hard, staring at his parents pleadingly.
"I'm.. I'm not saying I want to rush headfirst onto a battlefield, trust me. But I want to help. And if they're going north, I should be there."
He looks at his parents' unconvinced faces and carries on determinedly.
"You'd be sending the recently discovered "oh apparently he's a twelve-year old" Avatar and a prince of the fire nation, that's a lot for anyone to process. And you're the ones that told me "the northern tribe is far more prideful than we are-" though I believe "arrogant" was the particular word you used, dad. If you send a regular envoy with them, who knows how they'll be treated, or how long it'll take those dusty old farts to believe them."
Hakoda opens his mouth to speak, but Sokka sucks in a quick breath and continues before he can.
"They could waste precious time. They could do something stupid. Who knows what they might try and do with Zuko?! But.. if the chief were to send his own son along with them... That shows how serious you are. Makes it, y'know.. legitimate."
Hakoda exhales deeply through his nose. The silence sits heavy between the five of them.
"... you've thought this out quite thoroughly, son."
It might've sounded like a compliment if Hakoda hadn't said it through gritted teeth.
Sokka swallows, shrugging lightly.
"Yeah, well... you guys were talking for like ten whole minutes, what do you expect?"
Kya clenches her numbed fingers at her side, turning back to look at the other boys. Their faces register almost as much shock as her own does.
She takes a long moment to breathe and think before she turns to her husband.
"He makes a good point."
Hakoda exhales again, quietly.
"I know he does."
The wind picks up, blowing an icy shudder across all of them. The chief shakes his head.
"So.. I'm just supposed to send three children out into the cold to fight my battles for me, is that it?"
Sokka glances at his mother, at Zuko and Aang and the whole village sleeping behind them.
"It isn't just your battle, dad. It's everyone's."
The wind whips across the snow, moonlight brightening as clouds pass and shift above them. Silence and a resigned nod is Hakoda's only response.
The fading sun fills the hut with dim light. Zuko stares at Kya's rushed activity, the clanking of pots and plates acting as the soundtrack to her flurry of movement. He glances to Hakoda.
"So.. why is it exactly that you haven't invited your mother to visit in so long?"
Hakoda grimaces and opens his mouth to speak, though Kya interrupts him diplomatically.
"It is simply because Kanna views certain issues... in a slightly different light than we do."
She returns to cooking without missing a beat. Hakoda's mouth falls shut, apparently satisfied by his wife's assistance.
'Ah..'
Zuko clears his throat, gold eyes darting to the entrance.
'I suppose it's safe to bet that one of those issues involves harboring defected fire-nation royalty.'
Katara notices Zuko's expression and leans over to quietly reassure him.
"Gran-Gran is totally sweet, don't worry. Just be yourself and everything will be fine."
Zuko hums in agreement despite his continued worry.
'Just be yourself... I don't think that advice holds much weight when someone "being theirself" is the crux of the issue.'
They all startle at the voice that rings out suddenly.
"Hello there! It's been so long, I almost didn't recognize you all."
Hakoda's sigh is a mixture of fondness and frustration.
"You just saw me two days ago, mom."
Kanna bats a wrinkled hand at her son.
"Eh I wasn't speaking to you. I meant the children."
Her eyes lock onto Zuko for a brief second, but Kya slides up beside her.
"Kanna! You're early.. It's lovely to see you, though."
She hugs the older woman, and Kanna returns it warmly.
"It's lovely to see you too, dear. Time has been kind to you."
Kya smiles and steps back towards the boiling pot. Kanna's eyes drift back to Zuko.
"So... you must be "the prince", then."
Zuko coughs lightly, struggling to smooth his face back into an unbothered stare.
"... I think I forfeited that title when I robbed the palace and ran, but.. yeah."
Kanna hums, stepping closer.
"I hear that you're taking my grandson on a journey, something mystical and important."
Zuko swallows at the steely look in the old woman's eyes.
"That's.. the plan, mmhmm."
"Hmm... I'd tell you to keep Sokka safe, but considering that they dragged you out of the snow half-dead from trying to save him once already, I don't suppose I really need to."
Zuko blinks, not quite sure what to do with his hands.
"... no, ma'am."
The steely look in Kanna's eyes softens, her weathered hand patting Zuko's shoulder appreciatively.
"I think we're on the same page then, young man. I'm happy you'll be there to look after that bone-headed boy."
"Hey! I heard that, Gran-Gran!"
"Well I wasn't whispering, was I?"
One Day Later
Kya doesn't notice Zuko until she spots him out of the corner of her eye, the boy hovering silently by the entrance of the hut.
"Yes, darling? Is there anything you need?"
It had startled her at first, having a child in the home that didn't stomp and holler with every step, one that was actually capable of sneaking up on her. But with time, she'd grown familiar with it. Grown quite fond of it, in all honesty.
Zuko's face goes tight with anxious concentration, as it always does when he intends to ask for a favor. An odd thing for a child of royalty to struggle with, she'd always thought.
But not so odd for a child used to being treated as an irritant and a nuisance. The thought makes her cheeks warm with angry heat, but she forces it down and marks it up internally as one more injustice that the fire lord will be forced to reckon with.
"You can ask for anything, sweet boy."
Zuko's hesitation seems to crumble, a faint blush rising to his face at the nickname.
"Sokka and Katara told me that you cut hair, and that you're... Good."
A strand of dark, messy hair falls in front of his eyes moments after he says it, seemingly attempting to help plead its own case.
Kya smiles fondly and nods towards a chair in the corner.
"Have a seat. I'll grab my scissors."
Zuko struggles against the urge to shift away as Kya straightens his hair, the strands damp from the warm water she'd drizzled over it. He forces back a wince as the cold metal of the scissors touches his nape.
"So, what made you want a haircut so suddenly, hmm?"
Zuko winces, forcing his voice to sound nonchalant and calm.
"I just wanted to make sure that I looked presentable for the trip to the north. I.. accidentally cut it slightly askew a while back when I was... well, defecting. So. Yeah."
Kya hums, the scissors quietly slicing through his hair.
Zuko swallows a sigh, eagerly awaiting the opportunity to slip away by himself and relax. He almost startles as Kya's hand gently pushes at his jaw.
"Turn your head for me?"
Zuko complies slowly, Kya's soft humming resuming as she continues cutting.
She carefully angles his head to the side after a moment, snipping at a stubborn strand. It isn't long before she settles her hand against his forehead, leaning him back slowly.
Zuko studies the odd feeling of it, his mind pulling up faded memories of the royal barbers who'd cut his hair throughout childhood. Their fingers were always firm when they maneuvered his head like a toddler's doll, their cuts quick and firm; the precise work of a stranger with a sharp instrument at his back. He'd hated it deeply.
But this... feels different. Kya's hand cradles his head softly as she cuts, the rhythm of her humming moving in step with the slices of the scissors.
'It feels like an embrace.'
Slowly, muscle by muscle, Zuko relaxes against the chair.
On a whim, he speaks.
"I... the trip to the north isn't the whole reason why I wanted it cut."
"Oh?"
Kya doesn't sound surprised in the slightest, her scissors moving along smoothly.
Zuko's voice slips out softly.
"When I let it grow out this long, it.. It makes me look like Ozai."
Kya's motions pause for the briefest of moments. She carries on gently after no more than a second.
"Hmm... I learned to do this a long time ago, y'know? Started out by cutting my own hair."
Zuko blinks, remembering his panicked annoyance as he'd stared into the mirror at his mismatched bangs on a ship sailing away from Caldera.
"You.. must've been far better at it than I was."
She chuckles lightly behind him. He can tell she must be shaking her head from the shifting of her arm against his neck.
"Oh, I doubt it. Certainly not at first."
She's quiet for a short moment, her cuts pausing just before she begins to speak again.
"When I was quite young, not much older than you, a friend of mine told me that she overheard a boy giggling with one of his friends about how he thought my hair looked ugly."
She sighs softly to herself.
"I happened to have a crush on that boy at the time. That night was the first time I ever cut my own hair."
Zuko stares at the fur-pelts sown into the roof, choosing his words carefully before he speaks.
"Was this boy.. Hakoda?"
Kya chuckles again, louder this time. She pauses cutting until it tapers off with a snort.
"Spirits, no. I hadn't been hooked by his level-headed charm yet at that point. No, this was another boy... who incidentally grew up to be a drunkard with a cavernous bald-spot, so, I guess he didn't really have any right to be commenting on people's hair after all, did he?"
The acidic snap of her words shocks an amused snort out of Zuko, which incites another throaty chuckle from Kya.
After their mirth fades, the snipping of scissors resumes in the comfortable silence.
Zuko kneels down, snow crunching underneath his knees. He leans over to peer into a bowl of softly steaming water, staring into the eyes of the face looking back at him.
He still isn't used to the sight of pale, unblemished skin around his left eye, not really. Isn't used to seeing a full, golden iris there instead of the angry sliver of it that he'd grown to recognize, either.
The prince reaches up to run his fingers through shortened hair, smoothing it out until it falls to hang just above his eyes.
His mind drifts to the barren cut of his phoenix-tail. The style had been necessity, at first. After the healers had shaved away the hair on that side for access to his wound (though most of it had already been burned off anyways), it was a matter of aesthetics to even it up and shave the rest. But afterwards, it became something different.
The razor had always felt oddly heavy and frighteningly sharp in his hands, but he wielded it easily with the desire to bare his shame to the world, to wipe away anything that could conceal his red mark of disgrace.
The prince huffs bitterly at the thought. He'd changed so much since then.. the conflicted, easily-led boy who thought he truly deserved his mountain of misfortune was practically an entirely separate being from who he was now.
Zuko had changed many times over the years, in truth. Changing over and over, and never really realizing until he looked into the mirror and saw a different person staring back at him.
He'd been the dutiful prince, and then the enraged outcast. He'd been the hungry rebel, until he became Lee. Then he'd tried, so very hard, to become that compliant prince once again.. but the guise had chafed, right up to the moment when he burned it to ash under the shadow of the black sun.
And then... he'd become Aang's friend.
But now, staring into the water, he realizes that he's changed once more while he wasn't looking. The real question was...
'Who am I now?'
Zuko smiles softly, slowly settling down into the snow beside Hakoda as he catches his breath. Katara's victorious shout rings across the distance, a flurry of snowballs piling up on Sokka's coat. The tides of battle seem to turn as Aang leaps over to join Kya and Katara, all three of them flinging a volley of icy shots at Sokka's disheveled form.
The chief's son spits out a small hunk of snow, glaring at his three snickering opponents.
"Betrayed?! By my friend? By my sister?? By my own mother?!! Treason of the highest order-"
He sputters as another volley of snowballs rain down on him, a distinctly high-pitched shriek leaving his throat as he dives for cover.
Zuko huffs out a quiet, breathless laugh from the sidelines. He glances over to Hakoda, just barely catching the flash of a bright smile before the older man smooths his features back into something more stoic.
It's good that they have this, Zuko thinks. It's good that they have a moment to enjoy their innocence, before they're forced to leave it behind.
He watches the four of them roll and smash though the snow, bathed in sunlight and hollering playful orders at each other. They make so much noise that Zuko barely hears Hakoda's soft question beside him.
"Are you sure?"
Zuko turns to look at the older man. The chief's blue eyes have narrowed with focus, their gaze settled firmly upon Zuko. The prince doesn't have to guess at his meaning, nodding as soon as he processes the question.
"I'm sure... as sure as anyone can be when it comes to something like war, at least."
Hakoda's eyes bore into Zuko's, searching.
"You don't have to go if you aren't ready. I haven't forgotten what you said, but.. I want you to know that. You can say the word, and no one here will question it."
Zuko stays silent for a moment. Hakoda takes the chance to speak again.
"Aang is.. the avatar, so I know that stopping him would be akin to resisting the gods themselves... and Sokka, I'd have to chain him to a pole if I really needed to keep him from going. But you..."
Hakoda trails off uncertainly, thinking for a moment before he continues.
"I just don't want you to drag yourself out there if you don't think you're ready."
Zuko stares at the snowball fight as it winds down to a close, shifting his gaze to the village as it bustles quietly in the distance.
"... I'm ready."
Hakoda only watches him for another short moment before the older man nods definitively, turning back to look at the rest of his family.
"But.. thank you."
Hakoda turns back to look at the boy after he speaks, blinking.
Zuko clarifies himself at the unspoken prompt, smiling.
"For giving me the choice. That's.. not a gift that I've been given much in my life."
A fierce chill crawls into the air after the sun falls. They all mutually agree to settle down and sleep together beside the fire inside the hut, though if Zuko's being honest, the fact that it's the last night they'll spend together for a while might have more than a little to do with it.
Zuko is the first one to lay down in the orange glow, staring into the comforting warmth. Sokka follows him to the ground soon after, nestled down in front of the firebender.
Katara settles behind her brother, loosening the ties on his wolf-tail before she ruffles his hair and pulls him closer. Despite his annoyed grunt as she fiddles with his hair, Sokka gratefully shifts back into the cuddle.
Zuko is forced to blink owlishly after Aang slides in between he and Sokka, pressing up against the prince and dragging the other boy's arm over himself as if Zuko was a human blanket.
Kya drops down behind Katara, wrapping her arms around her children and squeezing while everyone begins to slow their jostling movements.
Hakoda is the last to lie down, the chief's sturdy form settling behind Zuko.
Aang is the first to fall asleep, his body going limp aside from the hand that clutches at Zuko's arm.
Sokka goes next, his eyes sliding shut as he tangles his fingers with Kya and Katara's hands.
Zuko notices the girls passing out shortly after. His own eyelids begin to feel heavy, the comforting weight around him pulling him into unconsciousness.
Hakoda remains awake. His eyes pass over the sleeping forms of his family, worry and love filling his mind in equal measure.
Zuko nods politely at the four warriors as Hakoda gestures to them, the early morning sun casting its dulled brightness over everyone.
"That's Silla, Osta, Kallik, and Bato. They'll be the ones accompanying you on the journey, and I personally vouch for all of them. Though of course, you've already met Bato."
The other three men nod sternly, but Bato aims an easy smile at his chief and Zuko. They all stand awkwardly for a moment until Hakoda dips his head towards Appa.
"Alright, go on and get ready to mount up. You can all get properly acquainted once you're in the air."
A couple of the men swallow uncomfortably at the mention of their travel method, but they step over towards the sky-bison as ordered.
Zuko and Hakoda shift uncertainly on their feet, a pregnant pause passing before the firebender speaks.
"Have you gotten any news from the outside?"
The chief shakes his head grimly.
"No. All our contacts are still cut off since the attack and then the relocation.. I have men working hard to get the lines of communication re-established, though."
Hakoda notices Zuko's worried nod, exhaling quietly to himself.
"There's no telling what kind of plans the fire nation have been cooking up in the time since we've been blind, so.. just try and stay ready for anything."
The prince's lip quirks up with an uncomfortable mix of pride and annoyance.
"I've found that's often the best strategy when it comes to dealing with my people."
His attention shifts as Kya and Katara walk closer. The cumbersome silence returns, and Zuko struggles to fill it.
"... try and keep your parents sane while we're gone."
Katara grins faintly.
"That's already been my job for ages. I think I'm pretty good at it by now.."
Zuko sees the strength in her eyes, reminding him of the stubborn girl who'd helped lead him on a chase across the globe. Both of them lean in for a quick but fond embrace.
"I'll miss you, Katara."
"Yeah.. I think I'll miss you too, Hot-head."
The prince leans back, his gaze turning to Kya. She smiles at him, and then hands him a knife.
"Uh.. why-"
"My father gave it to me when I was your age. I want you to hang on to it for me."
Zuko blinks, beginning to shake his head.
"I can't possibly accept-"
Kya's smile widens.
"I'm not giving it to you permanently, I just want you to keep it safe for me.. and you'd better return it yourself. No pawning it off on someone else so they can bring it back to me. Alright?"
Zuko sees the unspoken care in the offer, smiling gently as he accepts the small blade.
"Of course. I promise I'll take good care of it."
Kya nods faintly, leaning down to squeeze him into a tight embrace. The prince squeezes back, remembering the night she'd found him bleeding and freezing in the snow.
"it's alright, darling. I've got you."
"Don't let go."
He steps back after a moment, allowing Aang to lean in and wrap his arms around Kya.
"Thank you so much for letting me stay with you.. I won't forget how much you all helped me!"
Zuko moves further away as Sokka walks up to say his goodbyes. The firebender ambles back over to Hakoda, staring up at the older man.
He reaches his hand out to the chief, but Hakoda scoffs and eases down onto one knee, tugging the boy into a firm hug.
"... no heroics out there, okay? Just focus on getting the job done.. and keeping yourself alive."
Zuko nods against the older man's shoulder.
"I will, d-"
'Dad.'
The word almost slips out without thought. Zuko chokes it back down into his throat.
"... I will."
Hakoda and Zuko receive no warning before Sokka smashes into them, wrapping his arms around them snugly. The chief curls an arm around each of them, squeezing once more before he lets go.
No one comments on Sokka's watery eyes as the three boys slowly begin to make their way over to Appa.
Zuko is only drawn out of his thoughts by the quiet rumble of "Excuse me?" as he walks past Osta.
".. yes?"
The warrior steps closer, keeping a polite distance between them.
"I wondered if it'd be alright for me to speak with you for a moment?"
Zuko takes a moment to study the man's face. Not quite old, but not quite young either. A horizontal scar through the dark stubble on his upper lip. An odd hesitation in his eyes.
"... sure. Of course."
The man watches him for a moment longer, seemingly gathering his words.
"I.. guess you don't recognize me, but.. on the night of the raid against the village, my brother and I-"
Osta exhales, his eyes falling awkwardly to the snow at their feet.
"You shouted to us for help, and we turned our backs to you.. because we did not trust you."
Zuko's eyes widen, the memory returning to him through the smoke and chaos of that night. Osta drags his gaze back up to meet Zuko's, grimacing at the boy's recognition.
"I.. have lived with the guilt since the moment that I walked away. I have breathed with it, and dreamt with it."
He bows his head softly.
"I do not ask for forgiveness. I want only the chance to show you that I am better than the version of me that turned his back and walked away."
Zuko watches the man, allowing his feelings to stir and settle. His gut instinct pushes him towards the idea of shoving the man into the snow and kicking at something delicate, but..
'Would I even be here if I hadn't received a procession of second chances myself?'
"... someone told me that all men make mistakes."
Zuko recites the words respectfully.
"But it is how we atone for those mistakes that defines us."
Osta stares in surprise, nodding gratefully as Zuko begins to step away.
Hakoda watches as Sokka and Zuko begin to climb onto Appa, almost missing Bato's slow approach to his side.
"You've got that constipated look on your face that only shows up when you're worrying like a hen hovering over a batch of eggs, y'know."
Hakoda grunts.
"It's not worry. It's just.. concern."
"Well I'll have to take it as an insult to my exceptional skills if you continue to be "concerned" while the boys are in my care, sir."
Hakoda rolls his eyes faintly, turning to look at the other man. Bato smiles warmly, clasping their arms together.
"They'll be fine, chief. You can count on me."
He begins to step away, pausing at Hakoda's words. The chief's eyes lock onto Sokka and Zuko one last time.
"Protect my sons, Bato."
"With my life, old friend."
Three boys and four warriors settle into Appa's saddle. Aang drapes the reins across his lap, reaching down to run his hand through thick fur.
"I know we've been taking things a bit easy lately, but it's time to get back to work, big guy. Now c'mon... yip yip!"
The silence stretches out as they all wait, Sokka's unimpressed voice drifting out after a few seconds.
"Maybe he needs to answer the call of nature before we g- oooooo!!"
Sokka jerks back against the saddle as Appa groans and drags them into the air. Aang hollers with joy, and Zuko can't resist the wind-blasted smile that comes to his face.
'Maybe we can actually do this. Maybe It's finally okay.. to start hoping.'
General Nuzo reaches up to discreetly wipe away at the sweat sliding down from his hairline, stuffing the utterly soiled handkerchief into one of his pockets before he turns to face Ozai across the table. He can't tell if the wave of nausea he feels is from the ceaseless motion of the ship underneath his feet, or from the avalanche of panic that's been settled on his spine ever since he was sent fleeing from his home like some common traitor.
Nuzo's unsettled stomach isn't helped by the quietly furious look that's been plastered on his leader's face ever since they freed him from the holding cells. The muted red light of the tinted lanterns bathe Ozai's face and the room around them in a dark crimson. The red-tinted lanterns may have served their purpose of keeping the light less visible across the water, but Nuzo would've been lying if he said that it didn't intensify the apocalyptic aura of Ozai's company.
Nuzo bravely decides to charge ahead, clearing his throat and speaking up softly.
"Should I ready the men for battle, your grace?"
Ozai's gaze slides up from the map until it lands on the general, his eyes calmly assessing despite the anger in them.
"No. We don't have enough men to make any difference in a head-on battle with the usurper yet.. and besides, if the last month has taught us anything, it's that my sentimental fool of a brother does have his supporters among the populace. What we need... is leverage."
Nuzo feels sweat beginning to bead up on his forehead again, his fingers twitching as he ignores it.
"Leverage, sir?"
"Yes. The tool of many great men who wished to turn small heaps of influence into sturdy mountains of power."
Nuzo blinks, eyes darting around the red-tinted room for a quick moment.
"And.. where can we procure leverage, sir?"
Ozai's gaze falls back to the map, calculating eyes sharper than ever.
"Azula won't work as a hostage. Iroh knows I'd never hurt her."
Nuzo nods.
"Of course not, si-"
"She's far too valuable. An heir to the throne who will do what I tell her to do.. in a civil war such as this, her importance to us is paramount."
Nuzo swallows, nodding again. Ozai's finger taps in a slow, steady rhythm across the table.
"What we need is a different hostage, someone that Iroh knows I won't hesitate to hurt if I need to."
"... did you have someone in mind, sir?"
Ozai's eyes settle on the last known location of the southern water tribe, his gaze unwavering.
"Yes. It's time for us to find my son, general, and bring him home."
Notes:
So! I'm sorry that it took so long to get this chapter out, but my life has been truly nutty lately. Thankfully I'm feeling better than I have in a while, and I'm mega-excited to write the next few chapters 🙌 this was our last chap before we move into basically a new arc, so I wanted to give everyone a moment to be together before I had to split them up.
To readers old and new, thank you for giving the story a shot ✨ I adore hearing y'alls thoughts.
General rambling notes:
I feel like I finally properly earned that "zuko's hair is a main character" tag in this one 🔥😂
Aang is a cuddle-monster.
Chapter 11: A cold day at the edge of the world
Notes:
To the readers who've been with me for a while 💗 thank you so much for sticking around on this wild, zig-zagging little journey of mine.
To any newer readers 💖 thank you for hopping aboard! It is my sincerest hope that you have fun.
P.S. kudos and comments nourish my soul
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Zuko stares up at the thick ice-wall that defends the entrance to Agna Qel'a, capitol city of the northern water tribe. A faint feeling of intimidation vibrates through his belly.
Sokka seems to feel something similar, his jaw dropping open slightly as he stares upwards.
"Whoa... That's.. a little bit bigger than the wall I wanted for our place."
Aang stares up at the wall with wide eyes himself, absentmidedly running his fingers through Appa's fur.
Sokka's awe begins to fade after several minutes, an impatient sigh drifting out of his mouth while he paces over the ice underneath his feet.
"Remind me why we couldn't just fly in there and get all this waiting over with?"
Bato snorts, letting out a quiet sigh himself as he explains yet again.
"It's like I said, Sokka, we don't want to upset them."
Sokka scrunches his face in frustration, contemplating.
"Well, I still don't understand how they could be upset to see someone with such awesome news. It's not every day that you find twelve-year old mystical warriors who can help save the world... unless someone out here has been living way more interesting lives than we have."
Bato shakes his head at Sokka's rambling with a weary fondness.
"Awesome news or not, you don't just drop into the middle of someone's home on the back of a sky-bison, unnanounced, uninvited, in the middle of wartime. It's been years since our tribe had any communication with these people, so I'd actually like us to start this off on the right foot rather than on the bison foot, if that's alright with you."
Sokka crosses his arms, glancing over to Appa as the bison devours a handful of dried fruit from Aang's palm.
"... I guess I can't argue with that logic."
Bato smiles knowingly at the son of the chief.
"When has logic ever stopped you from arguing?"
Sokka grumbles under his breath, but he goes silent as ice starts to split and shift in the wall of Agna Qel'a. Two small boats pass through the opening in the ice, the water around them moving unnaturally to push them onwards.
Several men dressed in blue stand rigidly on the boats, their faces harder and colder than the jagged ice that surrounds them all. Sokka startles slightly as one of the men's emotionless voices rings out.
"Who are you? And what is your purpose here?"
Bato steps forward without hesitation, his palms held up and open in a peaceful manner.
"We're here on the orders of our leader, Chief Hakoda of the southern water tribe. He sent us here to relay urgent news, among other things."
The northern water-benders watch Bato and the rest of the group for a long moment, their calm gazes calculating as they pass over each of them in turn. Finally, one of them nods, staring into Bato's eyes.
"We will take you to Chief Arnook, then. But only you."
Bato grunts, slowly gesturing to Aang with one hand.
"I'll need to bring the boy with me, I'm afraid. He's quite integral to the news that we're here to impart."
The northern men watch them through another drawn-out pause, but the man at the head of their group inclines his head with another soft nod.
"You may do so."
Bato returns the nod with a grateful "thank you" to the other men, waving at Aang as he steps towards the edge of the ice. The avatar stares at his friends in concern, though Bato cuts through his worry with a gentle shake of his head.
"It'll be alright. None of you need to worry, this shouldn't take long. Now c'mon."
Aang glances at his friends for one more brief moment, sighing quietly before he relents. The young monk leaves with a firm squeeze to Sokka and Zuko's shoulders, whispering a quiet reassurance to Appa before he walks over to Bato.
The northern tribesmen on one small boat back away to make room for their guests. The wooden tip of the boat's bow gently taps against the ice, and then Bato and Aang step in.
Water shifts underneath them once more, pulling them towards the wall of ice.
Zuko forces down the stubborn concern that peaks in his stomach as they pass through the opening in the wall. It seals shut behind them, reforming so smoothly that no one could ever tell it had opened in the first place.
Sokka readjusts his position against Appa's saddle, breathing out an agitated exhale with his eyes firmly settled on the wall.
"This "shouldn't take long." That is how he said it, right? Be honest, 'cause I need to know if I was just hearing an ice mirage when he spoke, guys."
Zuko discreetly bites at his bottom lip, his own gaze locked onto the wall as well.
"I think mirages are something you see, not hear.... but yes, that is how he phrased it."
Sokka grunts unhappily.
"Ahh. It's just funny, because.. despite him saying that, it feels like they've been gone for about... forever and a half."
Zuko grimaces.
"... they have been gone for quite a while."
Sokka stands up in the saddle, glancing over to Asta and the other tribesmen while he fights the urge to pace.
"Yup. I am officially worried. Is anyone else worried? Officially?"
Zuko draws in a careful inhale, softly shaking his head.
"Don't panic, Sokka."
"Too late."
Zuko pulls in a second, less careful inhale.
"Then stop panicking. They haven't been gone long enough for it to mean anything horrific.. they don't exactly have a simple story to deliver. These things take time."
Sokka rubs worriedly at his messy wolf-tail with gloved fingers, peering at his friend impatiently.
"What if something really has gone wrong, though? What if the northern leaders did something stupid and now our friends need our help? I donno about you, but I don't trust those secretive bastards in there."
Zuko shakes his head pointedly.
"From what I've been told, they're good people.. mostly. And more importantly, if someone had tried to harm Aang, we would've heard his response. Trust me."
Sokka blinks, picturing the jovial monk who'd grown to be a kind friend ever since the other boy had arrived with a bright smile and a thinly-hidden sadness lurking behind his eyes.
"... he's that strong? Even now, with no training?"
Zuko nods confidently, his mind drifting back to the very first time that Aang had escaped his ship. The moment feels as though it happened years ago, though he knows that it hasn't been that long.. which feels doubly ironic when he considers that it technically hasn't even happened yet.
"He's the strongest person I know."
Sokka nods in acknowledgment, settling back down against Appa's saddle after a moment of contemplation.
Zuko surreptitiously glances over to his friend, noticing the worry that still lingers on his features. The prince sighs quietly under his breath.
"Even if something has gone wrong, we'll figure it all out and find a way to get what we need, Sokka. We'll make a way to get what we need, if it comes to that. Surrender isn't an option for us.. not when we could be responsible for the ending of this war."
Sokka stays silent for a long moment, finally huffing out an overwhelmed exhale before he speaks.
"Y'know, you say stuff like that and it reminds me that you had an army general for an uncle... he must've taught you a lot."
Zuko discreetly drags a hand through Appa's soft fur to distract himself, struggling to force down the insistent melancholy that tries to crawl up his throat at the memory of his uncle. It's a strange feeling, he thinks.. The urge to mourn someone who is not dead, but is simply... different from how they were when you left them.
"... yes. He taught me all the things that I needed to stay alive, and-... and all the things I needed to stay sane."
Sokka watches his friend closely, humming in understanding after a quiet pause.
The silence carries on until the cracking of ice breaks it, both boys and all three men on Appa's back startling at the sound of it, tense anticipation around them thickening with every passing second.
A small rowboat with Aang at its front passes through the ice. Zuko and the rest finally allow their postures to loosen slightly as the Avatar makes his way towards them.
Sokka exhales faintly.
"Okay, they haven't tried to kidnap our mystical pre-teen savior... yet. That's probably a good sign."
One of the tribesmen behind them actually lets out a short chuckle at Sokka's half-joking comment, but any relief amongst them fades once they spot the somewhat worried look on Aang's face.
Zuko spits out a hushed "What's wrong??" as soon as Aang climbs onto the sky-bison's back. The young monk shakes his head minutely.
"Nothing... sort of."
Sokka sucks in a worried and wobbly little breath beside Zuko as the avatar looks back over his shoulder at the retreating rowboat.
"They just seemed.. weird. But Bato didn't act worried."
Aang shifts his shoulders with a small, confused shrug.
"And they said they're ready to see us all now.."
The monk looks at Zuko, meeting the other boy's eyes with a concerned tilt to his mouth.
"You specifically."
Zuko swallows as he allows that information to process. Aang continues to watch him, seemingly waiting for an answer.
The fire-bender nods firmly, and Aang grabs up Appa's reins with a cautious tightness at his shoulders. The sky-bison rises, and Zuko's stomach sinks.
He's suddenly reminded of a half-forgotten fable that his uncle had told him once, of a brave but foolish mouse who'd marched into the open and waiting jaws of a hungry cat. It seems more apt than he'd like it to be at the moment.
The prince digs his fingers into the sturdy material of Appa's saddle as the bison flies them over the massive wall of ice, a sizzling heat beginning to stir in the boy's belly.
'I may be nothing more than a mouse to them... but if they try and close their jaws around me, I'll make sure they choke on that decision.'
He'd come too far to let anything stop him now.
Zuko walks behind Aang, trying to ignore the dozens of eyes that follow their group as they journey further into Agna Qel'a. People had begun to stare from the moment that Appa touched down inside the city, but that hadn't bothered the prince. They'd just been staring at the (massive, supposedly extinct) sky-bison, after all.
Now though.. Zuko can feel the heaviness of these people's gazes, can see their watchful eyes analyzing them all. He spots warriors that follow them as they move, and the way that their eyes seem locked onto him in particular.
The prince shudders with the urge to slither back further into the hood of his blue coat.
Osta suddenly steps up to walk beside Zuko, glaring out at the prying gazes that surround them.
It's a small comfort, but Zuko holds tightly onto the feeling of solidarity nevertheless.
Aang leads them into a large, quiet chamber that rests deep in the center of the city. A water-bender shifts into smooth movement after they pass by him, a thick layer of ice sealing over the entrance with his efforts.
Zuko exhales slowly, carefully trying to control the knot of concern in his belly.
A half-circle of sturdy chairs face out from the middle of the chamber, each chair filled by weathered-looking men and women with stern faces.
Bato steps around one of the chairs to greet them and Zuko feels his worry lessen by a delicate sliver. The older man's face is serious, but calm.
"Choose your words carefully, and just don't panic."
The words are said in a soft whisper by Zuko's ear, and the prince only barely sees Bato's slight but reassuring smile before he turns back to the half-circle of chairs and the people that occupy them.
"Elders, I would like to introduce the rest of my travelling companions. We are, all of us, incredibly grateful for your hospitality and understanding."
One of the oldest amongst them waves Bato off with a flippant shake of his leathery fingers.
"Now now, we haven't made any official decisions regarding your group; don't dislocate an arm patting us on the back just yet."
Silence settles over the chamber for a long, tense moment. Chief Arnook leans forward in his chair and settles his unwavering blue eyes onto Zuko.
"You... are the young prince of the fire nation, I assume."
The fire-bender walks forward on vaguely numbed legs, dipping his head with a single nod.
"You assume correctly, sir."
Arnook watches him with a sharply assessing gaze, though his eyes retain an air of quiet kindness nonetheless.
"Bato tells us that you defected to our sister-tribe several months ago."
Zuko fights the urge to fidget under the combined gazes of everyone in the room.
"Yes, sir. The southern water tribe is my home now. In truth, it was not where I intended to stay when I first left Caldera, but... I've never known a better place or a better people in all my, admittedly limited, years."
Arnook watches him still, a considering hum leaving his throat. He turns to look at the elders that surround him.
"I'm afraid you'll have to forgive our grave disposition, prince Zuko. Can you understand how the news we've been given today could put us in an.. Unsteady mood?"
"Please, just call me Zuko. And I understand all too well, sir."
Arnook raises an eyebrow in pleasant surprise, nodding faintly.
"Good. I'm glad that you do.. that should make this easier."
Arnook leans back into his seat and passes his gaze over everyone in the room.
"I'd like to make sure that all of us are on the same page here, so please indulge me as I state the obvious."
His blue eyes settle onto Zuko once again.
"We are all, of course, overjoyed to see the return of the avatar. He has our full support, and we will assist in his training eagerly and to the fullest of our capabilities.. But your presence here is something of a conundrum. I believe that your desire to aid us in the war-effort is genuine, but the fact of the matter is that risk will be a constant companion of yours for the foreseeable future. The Fire Lord has declared that no mercy will be given to anyone who assisted in your supposed kidnapping or unlawful containment afterwards."
The firebender swallows, unsurprised but nonetheless unsettled.
"Well.. they can't still believe that I was taken against my will. My father isn't that stupid, and I didn't exactly try to hide what had happened. And there was.. at least one witness."
Arnook grunts in agreement.
"Yes, I doubt that they believe the story they've been peddling. But it isn't a matter of belief any longer, it's a matter of principle and perception. The entire world has heard of the prince that was stolen away from his home in the night; if they let the issue settle without retaliation, it would make them look weak. And beyond that, there's simply no way that they would ever confirm the presence of a traitor in the royal bloodline."
The chief's eyes seem to gain an edge of coldness as he continues.
"If they ever actually found you, it's likely that they'd simply kill you and blame it on whoever had decided to harbor you. Just another excuse for them to spill more blood in the name of righteousness."
Zuko feels a wave of shame crash against his chest, his nerves fraying as he notices the darkening gazes of almost every council-member searing into him. He startles slightly as a voice cracks out suddenly, thunder-loud in the quiet of the chamber.
"We should send him back to his people! Let them decide his fate, one way or the other! This boy is not our problem to bear."
One of the council members aims a wrinkled finger at Zuko, and he's forced to ignore the stab of panic that flies into him.
"Please. I swear that I am of more use to you here than I would be if you sent me away. No one knows my father like I do."
Arnook tilts his head, narrowing his eyes in consideration.
"You keep saying "my father" when you speak about the fire nation. How long has it been since you received news from your homeland?"
Zuko's thoughts roll to a slow stop, his mind going blank while he processes the question.
"It has been.. several months, sir. The tribe has been cut off from contact with anyone else since we were attacked and forced to relocate."
A sense of understanding seems to click into place on Arnook's sharp features.
"... this will come as a shock to you, then. I'd recommend bracing yourself."
The prince's face wrinkles up in unsettled confusion, his lips parting as he prepares to speak, but Arnook continues smoothly.
"Ozai was usurped as Fire Lord quite some time ago, and that was quickly followed by an imprisonment."
Zuko feels his face go slack from shock as the gravity of those words settles against him.
"Wha-.. I don't understand."
"General Iroh retreated from the wall of Ba Sing Se, and then returned home with his son. Soon after that, he became Fire Lord Iroh."
Zuko's head jerks, physically recoiling as if he'd been slapped.
"Lu Ten? And the.. but that's not possible."
But even as the words are leaving his mouth, Zuko can hear Aang's words echoing across his thoughts.
"When you use a technique like this, they said that it doesn't just effect time to the point where you arrived, it can alter the flow of time even further back. Regardless of what you do once you arrive, it's like... dropping a pebble into a pond; no matter how small it is or how gently it's dropped, the water will ripple outward from where it falls."
The prince's mind feels as if it's preparing to split apart, pulled in so many different directions at once that he can barely separate which is which.
Joy washes up inside him at the thought of his cousin, breathing, smiling, alive.
Fear slithers down his throat at the realization of just how much he's changed some things without even meaning to.
Another loud voice rings out sharply in the chamber. Zuko manages to drag his shell-shocked gaze up to look at the man who has begun shouting.
He stands beside the chair of the council member who'd spoken out against Zuko moments ago, seemingly an aide or guard to the older man.
"See?! This boy isn't even aware of who rules over the very nation that he claims to know so much about. What help can he truly offer to Agna Qel'a? Perhaps he could light our candles for us."
A light ripple of laughter moves through several of the council members at the angered jape, but it ceases rapidly after Arnook's unimpressed glance passes over them. The guard clears his throat, bowing lightly to the chief.
"May I have permission to offer my thoughts, sir?"
Arnook watches the man with a flat gaze.
"The time to ask would've been before you began hollering insults. But alright, you may continue, Qimmiq."
The guard continues speaking, frustration pulsing through his voice.
"This boy's help is not worth the risk that will be carried alongside it. I second Elder Sakari's thoughts; the prince should be sent back to his nation, whether he likes it or not. If he's found on their soil, they'll have no excuse to focus their assaults on us. Quietly leave him somewhere public, be sure that he's seen alive and unharmed, and then we'll allow the fire nation's government to do what they do best: spin an elaborate lie to feed to their people."
Zuko feels his hand beginning to shake, his fingers digging into the material of his pants as he grips onto them desperately. He tries to form a response, but his dry throat seizes and refuses to cooperate.
Dread fills him as the eyes of the council members sharpen, an intensifying glimmer of agreement shining in several of their gazes.
"Listen!"
Bato's boot thuds heavily into the ice beside Zuko as he marches up to stand beside the boy, levelling an unshakable glare at Qimmiq.
"I'm not sure you understand, so allow me to make it clear: we have accepted this boy into our tribe. He is the chief's kin. Therefore, he is my kin. If you try and lay so much as a single finger on his head, I will take that finger."
Bato's eyes narrow, his shoulders tense with the promise of violence.
"Do you hear me?"
Qimmiq glares and opens his mouth to respond, but Arnook cuts him off sharply.
"That's enough, from all of you. Since some of you seem to have forgotten, I hold the final say in this chamber. Now... that does not mean that I intend to ignore the advice of my wise council, but this decision does lay with me, and I have heard plenty from both angles of this issue. It's time for me to think, somewhere quiet."
Arnook stands, aiming a nod of acknowledgment at Aang and Zuko before he departs. The council grudgingly begins to vacate their seats as well.
Bato's glare sticks tightly to Qimmiq until the man passes slowly out of view. The council empties the chamber, and silence returns.
The cold of the wall seeps into Zuko's skin as he leans against it, struggling to catch his breath in the wide hallway outside of the chamber.
Aang's worried eyes watch him intently.
"Are you alright?"
Zuko weakly shakes his head, leaning his head backwards and desperately trying to pull more oxygen into his lungs.
"Chest.. feels tight."
Thoughts explode across his mind, tripping and tangling together until he can barely sort through the noise.
'Uncle Iroh is- no, Fire Lord Iroh.. Is this- what's happening. Good or bad- I can't breathe, am I alright- what have I done?'
A sense of dizziness creeps in, his vision beginning to blur. But then, it finally eases.
Zuko relaxes his muscles, slumping softly against the wall as it suddenly becomes easier to breathe.
He hears a murmured reassurance from Aang. When he shifts his head to look at the other boy, he notices the monk's hand twitching and curling while he uses his bending to push more air in towards Zuko's head.
"It's okay.. I know what that feeling is like. Not fun."
The prince dips his head in agreement, briefly hesitating before he reaches out to gratefully squeeze Aang's arm.
Sokka watches them closely, a quick jerk of annoyance rushing through his limbs before he brings up his thumb to chew at the nail.
"So. About what they said in there.. I thought you said your uncle was a nice guy. Reasonable-ish. Why is everyone acting like this news is so... Bad?"
Zuko swallows, sharing a discreet glance with the young avatar at his side before he looks back to Sokka.
"My uncle was a good man. But he's.. different now. He's not like my father, but he is fierce. He wants power, and he's very willing to wage war to get it... especially if it means he can take me back home."
Zuko feels a shudder crawling up his neck at the thought of being dragged back to Caldera. It was perhaps the only place he knew of where the lavish bedrooms felt every bit as tense and unsettling as the holding cells in their prisons.
Sokka scoffs softly, crossing his arms and holding them tightly against his chest while worry begins to fill his eyes.
"... your family's got a real interesting way of showing love, y'know?"
Zuko's mouth twists with an apologetic and sour expression.
"No arguments here."
Aang flits his eyes back and forth between his friends, shrugging softly.
"Maybe you could send your uncle a letter.. I'm sure there are people here who could get it to their contacts in the fire nation and make sure that he sees it. There could be a piece of the man that you knew still in there, Zuko."
Zuko scrubs a hand across his forehead while his gaze falls to the floor.
"I don't think that words will be enough to stop my uncle... not with the way that he is right now. But.. I suppose I have to try. There's too much on the line to leave a single path untested."
Aang leans against the wall as well, his eyes taking on a thoughtful haze of uncertainty.
"Sometimes... words can be stronger than we'd ever expect them to be."
Time seems to pass with the quickness of frozen molasses as they wait in the hallway, the sound of their pacing footfalls echoing loudly in the chilly emptiness of it.
As their patience comes close to shattering, a door at the end of the hall opens with a swift push.
Arnook walks out, moving towards the boys with measured, patient steps.
Zuko's stomach shifts with worry, but the unease begins to melt away with the warmth of Arnook's soft smile.
"I'd like to be the first one to say it officially: Welcome to Agna Qel'a, boys. I hope you enjoy your time with us."
Zuko's nerves rattle along with the clink and clatter of utensils as everyone prepares to dig into their dinner, a jovial chatter surrounding the table and filling the room. The sight and sound is a sharp contrast to the bitter atmosphere that had filled the council chamber, one that leaves him feeling off-balance.
Arnook raises his mug towards Aang and the rest of their group.
"To our guests that we are so honored to host: your presence is a great gift to us, one that we wish to return in full, with our most grateful appreciation."
Almost every other drink at the long table is raised towards them, and Zuko is surprised to see no lasting traces of anger on the faces of the northern warriors or elder councillors. It leaves him wondering just how persuasive Arnook truly is.
"Bonds are forged around tables like these, in the presence of warm sustenance and warmer comfort. I pray that Tui and La watch over us all on this night, and on many more to come."
Arnook takes a deep sip from his mug and then places it onto the table with a note of finality. He spreads his arms welcomingly.
"Everyone, please dig in."
Zuko contemplates Arnook's words, finding himself reminded of the first meal that he'd shared with Hakoda and his family. He finds it easy to remember, because if he gives it even the briefest moment of consideration, he knows with certainty that it was the night when he first realized just how special their home truly was.
The prince nods softly to himself.
He cups his hands around the bowl of steaming soup that sits in front of him on the table, raising it carefully to his mouth. It doesn't get the chance to reach his lips when his chair is jostled harshly, forcing him forwards and spilling a warm wave of soup down his clothes.
Zuko blinks in shock, slowly turning to look over his shoulder as an embarrassed flush rises to his cheeks. Two boys loiter at the edge of the table, snickering to themselves.
The fire-bender's embarrassment melts quickly into rage, though Bato speaks before Zuko can lose control of his temper.
"You two. Watch where you're going next time.. It'd be a sad sight if someone had to spank boys as old as you."
Their amusement fades fast at the sharp edge in Bato's voice, and they move along to the other end of the room without complaint.
Zuko's fingers curl tightly around his spoon, but Bato eases him with a squeeze to the arm and a dry cloth for his shirt.
The older man grunts and leans over towards Osta.
"Hey. I want you to watch over Zuko and the boys tonight. You stay with them, and I'll bed down with the rest of the men in the other room that they offered to us. That work for you?"
Osta nods without hesitation, responding quietly over the noisy chatter that surrounds the table.
"I'm happy to do so, sir."
A deep, weary exhale drags itself out of Zuko's throat as he stares up at the solid ice of the ceiling.
A fire-bender in a room made of ice... It sounded a little too much like the start of a bad joke for his taste.
He turns his head to look at Sokka's sleeping form beside him, shifting his gaze towards the sound of Aang and Osta's deep, peaceful breathing after a few moments. It had been decided that Aang (being the savior of the world) and Asta (being... well, the tallest) deserved the two actual beds in the room they'd been given, while Zuko and Sokka (graciously) agreed to share one of their larger bed-rolls on the floor for the night.
The prince would lament the decision if he thought that it actually had anything to do with his inability to find sleep.. but he knows better. It isn't the comfort of what lay underneath him that's an issue, but rather the jagged maze of questions inside his head from which he is unable to escape.
How much should he reveal to his uncle in the letter that he planned to send? Would he actually be able to trust half of what the older man might tell him in response? Could he even guarantee that the message wouldn't be intercepted along the way? Or that the very same thing wouldn't happen to his uncle's reply?
Zuko hated the feeling. It reminded him of the games he'd seen played on the streets of Ba Sing Se, of the dirt-covered hands that would shuffle cups with surprising speed to conceal the audience's target underneath.
Zuko had always liked simple problems... walls that he could scale, obstacles that could be slashed or burned if they blocked his path.
But labyrinth-like issues such as this, they invited worry into his mind, they invited confusion and doubt. They invited the fear.
Zuko pulls in a deep breath through his nose, allowing it to flow out past his lips a moment later. His uncle had taught him breath-control for the sake of bettering his fire-bending, but in the end, the prince found that the thing it helped to control the most was actually his fear.
His "anxiety."
Zuko's mind flutters in agitation at the word. That's what everyone had always called it, from the healers, to the teachers, and even his family.
Even his mother... with her kind eyes and her understanding soul.
"You're an anxious person, my love.. that's nothing to be ashamed of."
"anxious"
As if his worries never held any legitimate weight, like they thought he was some delicate wallflower who shrunk away from the sight of any dark cloud on the horizon.
He fights the urge to curl his hand into a fist against the rough material of his pants, forcibly letting go of his anger as he resumes his careful breathing.
As much as it frustrates him to admit it (even if only to himself), the word might be more accurate than he's ever wanted to acknowledge. The kind of dread that's followed him since he was a child has never felt truly normal, less like a natural instinct and more akin to a dark mark inside his body that refused to cease chafing against his soul.
Zuko reaches for a memory at the back of his mind, giving himself over to thoughts of crashing waves and the oppressive heat that lingered on the metal deck of the Wani underneath the summer sun.
"You cannot let fear rule you, nephew. It is no way to live-"
"That is where you're wrong!"
Iroh flinches back from the prince's outburst, watching him carefully.
Zuko's hands shake with frustration, desperation pooling in his voice as he speaks.
"Don't you get it? My fear keeps me alive."
His uncle's expression had quickly shifted into something sad and pitying in that moment... Zuko hated that look more than he could put into words.
But the funny thing, he supposed, was that he would've given anything to see that look of worried concern again. To hear even a sliver of his uncle's wisdom in this time when he needed it the most.
That Iroh was gone, though. Lost to the effects of the time-bending scroll... possibly forever. What if his uncle never became the same man again?
The thought sinks a stone of horror into Zuko's heart. He feels tears fighting their way up to blur his vision, but he forces them back with a rough brush of his hand and a quiet, overwhelmed exhale.
The luxury of falling apart was not one that he could afford.
But regardless... a dragon sat at the head of the fire nation now, and he would have to find a way to-
Zuko's thoughts slam to a sudden halt at the sound of a soft thud in the other room. His eyes open wider, head shifting over his shoulder as he peers down the darkened hallway at the edge of the bedroom.
Had that noise been.. from across the hall, possibly?
The prince's eyebrows furrow together as he drags himself up onto his elbows in the bedroll.
Bato and the others should've all been asleep by now, though. Surely.
The thought of "well, you're still awake too, aren't you?" bounces around in his skull.
The noise had sounded... close, though. Too close.
Zuko squeezes at Sokka's shoulder.
"Hey. Did you hear that?"
Sokka doesn't wake, his breathing steady and slow.
The blankets rustle softly as Zuko slips out from underneath them, his steps cautious once he begins to move towards the hallway.
He pauses and stares at Aang and Osta over his shoulder for a long, quiet moment.
A part of him wants to wake them, to walk into the dark only if they stand at his side.
But another part of him, a more insistent piece of his being, murmurs at him from the back of his mind.
'Don't be a coward.'
And so, against his better judgement, he steps forward into the blackened hall.
He pulls a flame to life above his palm, relishing the comforting heat above his skin and the light that it spills onto his path.
His eyes dart and jump at every flickering shadow that dances across the walls, but as he moves forward into the other room, no threats emerge. The only thing that greets him is a calm quiet.
It'd be silent if it wasn't for the soft sound of the rushing wind outside. He lowers his hand, preparing to let the flame above his hand die out.
A cold breeze swipes past his cheek. He blinks in confusion, turning to look at the windows on the other side of the room.
Zuko just barely registers that one of them is ajar before a ball of icy water wraps around his hand, dousing the flame. He opens his mouth to shout, but a pungent rag is wrapped around his face just as a fist is driven into his stomach, forcing the air out of his lungs.
A knee presses firmly against his back, shoving him forward as he struggles. He expects to fall and smash into the floor as his feet lift off of it, but the arms of his attackers carefully lower Zuko to the ground before they settle him against it and tightly restrict the movement of his limbs.
A voice from behind him whispers, firm and quiet.
"Keep your mouth shut, boy. No hurt needs to be brought upon your friends tonight."
Zuko wriggles desperately, trying to force his mouth open against the stinking cloth and the hand that holds it against his face. The voice triggers a spike of recognition in his mind, but it's lost amongst his horror.
A panicked breath is sucked in through his nose, but he cringes as the scent from the rag burns his nostrils. His equilibrium tilts with a wave of dizziness that follows shortly afterwards.
"Just breathe it in and relax. We're not going to harm you.. we're simply sending you back to where you belong."
Terror crawls up the length of Zuko's spine as his limbs refuse to budge, his senses beginning to dull from the limited oxygen and the sedative on the rag. He arches his whole body in desperation, but it doesn't give him even an inch of freedom.
The faint flicker of hope in his chest begins to dim, his struggles ceasing as he goes limp. After a long moment, the hand on Zuko's face adjusts its grip, carefully repositioning the drenched cloth.
Zuko feels the tight grip around his jaw loosen ever so slightly. A spark of anger flashes in his stomach, and he strikes.
His teeth clamp down on the fingers holding the rag against his face. He hears a muffled grunt just before the metallic taste of blood hits his tongue. The hand falls away, and the rag goes with it.
Zuko screams.
"Hel-"
His shout is cut short after less than a second when a fist collides with the back of his head. The force of the impact sends his face into the unforgiving floor, and the taste of blood fills his mouth for a second time.
A hand seals tightly over his mouth before he's able to draw anything more than a pained whimper out of his throat.
Hushed voices rush out from behind him.
"You idiot! Why'd you let the rag go??"
"The little bastard bit me!!"
"What if someone heard?"
"Shh! Just listen!"
The sound of silence resumes after their voices go quiet. The thundering sound of his heartbeat in his ears is the only thing that Zuko hears.
The grip on his jaw tightens to the point of pain, followed by a lightly relieved sigh from above him.
"Alright, I don't think anyone heard. Someone grab the rag, let's get him over to the window, quickly no-"
The quiet whisper is interrupted by Osta's furious roar, and the sudden sound of a meaty fist slamming into flesh and bone. One of Zuko's assailants spits out a strangled scream, and the pressure quickly lifts away from the prince's right arm. He reaches up to peel the fingers away from his jaw, but they refuse to budge.
He feels himself begin to move, being dragged towards the window in a desperate stagger. The sound of water splashing violently against the wall fills his ears.
The door to the room busts open with a crash. Zuko feels the pressure against his limbs and jaw turn loose seconds later.
The prince smacks into the floor moments before he sees Bato slam into man above him, dragging the assailant to the floor in a violent tangle of limbs.
Zuko flails onto his back, gasping for breath as he drags himself away from the fray on shaking arms.
He presses himself against the wall tightly, weakly attempting to shake off the dizziness that surrounds his skull.
Osta slams his fist repeatedly into the stomach of one of the intruders, forcing the man to curl into a groaning, trembling ball on the floor.
One of the men rushes towards Zuko and he jerks his arm up on instinct, sending a weak blast of fire forwards. It flies directly into the man's face, leaving him clutching at his eyes as he stumbles backwards.
The prince is struck with a fuzzy sensation of irrational fear that he's struck one of the men on his side, but the feeling vanishes as soon as the man with smouldering eyebrows is sent flying across the room with a gale-force blast of air. The glass of the ajar window shatters after he forcefully crashes through it.
Zuko lashes out wildly after a hand grips at his arm, but he forces his body into stillness after he spots Aang hovering beside his shoulder, looking panicked and apologetic in equal measure.
The fire-bender shifts his gaze towards the writhing ball of violence that is composed of Bato and the last intruder. He spots the glint of a knife in the darkness, and then a flash of muted red.
A halting scream pierces the air just before the room finally begins to settle back into quiet stillness. Bato stands up on shaky legs, his shoulders heaving as he turns and peers through the dark.
The older man moves towards Zuko slowly, discreetly stuffing the hilt of a bloodied knife into his pocket before he approaches slowly.
"Hey... you still in one piece, kid?"
The prince presses himself tighter against the wall.
"Zuko, are you okay?"
"I just-.. I don't. I don't know."
Bato kneels down beside him, keeping a small distance between them as he watches the young man.
"... you're alright, kiddo. Or.. you will be, at least."
Zuko is distracted by an agonized wheeze on the other side of the room. He shifts his gaze onto Bato's downed and writhing opponent.
"You son of a bitch, my hand! My fingers!! They're... goddamn you!!"
It's only then that Zuko is finally able to recognize the man's voice, and the shadowed face that goes with it.
Qimmiq's features are twisted up with a mix of horror and rage, his body curling in around his blood-soaked hand.
A calm, quiet anger seeps onto Bato's face when he passes his eyes over the other man.
"I offered you a warning earlier. You should've heeded it."
Notes:
As a personal little aside, I wanted to ask some advice from you lovely folks. I'm currently trying to find ways to make money that don't stress the physical issues I've been having for the last couple years, and I was wondering if any of you had found good ways to turn writing skills into cash online. I'm not looking to try and make money off these fanfics or any copyrighted brands, before anyone shanks me 💀🙈 but writing, whether it's for fiction or for articles and such things, is one of the few good skills I've got, so.. I'd deeply appreciate any advice that you have 💛
thank you so much for reading!
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Bethanne on Chapter 1 Sun 13 Jun 2021 07:46AM UTC
Last Edited Sun 13 Jun 2021 07:49AM UTC
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