Chapter Text
Had Zuko’s firebending been even infinitesimally slower he’d surely have died. Zuko was lucky to be alive, what else was new? He’d been close to death after the Agni Kai with his father, perhaps the spirits were collecting his debt. He’d gotten three extra years of humiliation only for the hope of going home to be dangled in front of him in the form of the Avatar and just as quickly yanked away.
Azula was born lucky, you were lucky to be born.
“No,” Zuko hissed to himself, no it couldn’t end here.
He’d cheated death already, he’d beaten the infection that nearly took his eye, he’d do it again.
He ignored the pain and swam forward amid the frigid waters of the Mo Ce Sea. He ignored the ringing in his ears, the heaviness of his limbs, the throbbing. He ignored it all and kept going. He wasn’t going to stop. He didn’t need luck; he didn’t want luck.
Rise and fight, Prince Zuko.
Struggling was what made him strong. It had made him who he was.
Suffering will be your teacher.
He raked a lungful of air as his arms parted the water, and he furiously kicked his legs.
He would rise above these waves, he would fight. Fight for his honour, fight for his life, fight for his destiny.
Zuko gritted his teeth, slowly but surely the shore got closer, he began to make out the docks in his blurring vision.
He just had to get a bit closer. Just a bit more.
Zuko clawed himself onto the rocky shore, and onto his back, panting hard. And he dazedly gazed up at Tui’s light as he escaped her lover’s embrace. The bottom of his singed robes sloshed in the tide, but he’d managed it, his lips quirked up.
Out of the water, his injuries seemed sharper, the drumbeat in his head and his heart raged. With every breath, his ribs seemed to ache more. But as he gasped for air, it had never felt sweeter. He breathed out plumes of fire to warm himself up from the frigid waters. The rocks dug into his back.
But Zuko didn’t care. Damned pirates couldn’t kill him properly. He steamed on the rocks below the docks.
As his eyes grew heavy, he fought for his consciousness. Because Zuko was a fighter above all else.
Zuko was pulled out of his daze by something floating by his leg, with great protest from his entire body, he managed to sit up. The horizon was littered with debris from his ship. He nearly laughed when he figured out what it was. The wood must have kept it floating.
He fished it from the tides and shook off the water. Grinning back at him was his dark water spirit mask from Love Amongst the Dragons. Although to the Fire nation military it had more recently been known under the moniker of the Blue Spirit.
It couldn’t have been a pair of shoes, he thought wryly or perhaps something other than his pajamas. Still, he was thankful, his mother had loved that play.
He shifted on the beach as the second thing he was thankful for reminded him of its presence. Looped on the belt of his robe was the Earth Kingdom dagger his uncle had given him.
Idiot! Stupid, stupid, stupid. If Zuko wasn’t fighting a migraine, he would have hit himself upside the head.
Those pirates could have… if he hadn’t antagonized them…
Zuko shook his head. He didn’t need to think like that.
Then the thought struck him, those pirates, had they seriously followed Zuko north in time to know when he’d be alone? No that didn’t make any sense. Why wait so long for revenge?
Could they have had a vendetta against his crew too? They were dumb if he were being honest, and amid the entire fire navy his men weren’t easy to pick out anyways. His men should be safe if he left them be.
What now? Zhao was heading for the Northern WaterTribe with what seemed to be most of the Fire Nations Western fleet and Zuko was stuck, boatless, shoeless, and pretty done for in all honesty.
Zuko bit his lip, looking at the naval ships posted at the docks.
The Blue Spirit had broken into more secure places.
Well, that would be when he’d been in better shape and with dual Dao that were likely at the bottom of the ocean now. Not in pajamas and barefoot either.
SCREECH!
He was yanked out of his thoughts when he saw the iguana parrot. Something wasn’t sitting right how had those pirates known where he’d be? The wood squeaked as several people walked on the docks above him.
Zuko got to his feet with a wave of dizziness and a sharp pain to his ribs. He didn’t think they were broken. He watched the bird land on a familiar man.
“Drinks on Admiral mutton chops, boys!” one of the pirates chuckled.
Zhao?
Zuko huffed. He must have made quite the sight. The ruined silk pajamas, several burns, one hand closed over a garish theatre mask, and the other around a dagger from the earth kingdom.
With gently heating hands, Zuko dried his mask, scowling up at the docks. He slipped it on, eyeing the blade one of his attempted murderers had. He’d seen the pirate captain wield it against the avatar and his friends, his movements were like a theatre performance. Novices would see a master; master’s would see a novice. Zuko’s experience with Master Piandao made the man’s handle of the blade look like a child playing with something he ought not to. He barely needed his bending for such a miserable whelp.
That was under normal circumstances.
Slowly, he stumbled on his feet as blood rushed to his head, knives dug into his temple.
In his stomach, an age-old companion broiled. Anger. Puffs escaped through the holes in his mask. Under the stars, he ignored the ache in his bones and the craggy rocks digging into his feet. He made his way up towards the village, following the motley crew. Scurrying onto the rooftops so that they didn’t spot him.
Zhao’s hulking figure held a small chest, it was recognizable even under the hooded cloak. “Is it done?” he asked.
“Yes, the royal brat’s done, now as we agreed upon, our payment?” The captain held out his hands expectantly.
Zuko narrowed his eyes. So, Zhao tried to have me killed? That look he’d had in Zuko’s cabin upon seeing his dual dao.
What a dishonourable man, Zuko gritted his teeth. Fuck, he was such an idiot. He’d been so careful he hadn’t even used bending at the Pohai stronghold. Zhao had seriously tried to kill him based on nothing but a suspicion after seeing dual dao on his wall?
Uncle! That was another thing, his throat constricted had he not gone for a walk, he would have been on the ship too.
Even though he’d almost died, Zuko’s mind was filled with the idea that they could have killed his uncle too. Zuko rubbed his temple. Guilt seized him. He would need to lie low, lest he invite another assassination attempt.
The audacity, trying to kill a prince of the blood!
Zhao asked Uncle to join him at the north pole so perhaps he didn’t have it in for the general. But Iroh had declined and stayed with Zuko but staying with Zuko had nearly killed him. A lump formed in his throat. If it hadn’t been for Zuko, his uncle would likely still be in the Fire Nation palace, if it hadn’t been for Zuko, he wouldn’t have been stuck on a rusty metal pile of junk on a wild hog-monkey chase. Hopefully without the association with Zuko, Zhao wouldn't bother him, and he'd be free to do whatever he wanted.
No ship, no crew, no back up.
The way he saw it, Zuko had a few options, sneak into the North Pole and capture the Avatar amid the fighting, or he could wait and break him out once he was captured. Zuko wasn’t an idiot as much as his sister would argue the opposite. He couldn’t fight an entire naval fleet himself. Especially if Zhao had it in for him.
You can’t compete with me. I have hundreds of war ships under my command, and you? Zhao’s words echoed in his head, You’re just a banished prince. No home, no allies. Your own father doesn’t even want you.
His stomach broiled with an old friend. Rage.
Attacking a naval officer out in the open with his entire fleet would be foolhardy. Especially now that Zuko knew he would use such underhanded tactics.
No, Zuko needed to wait. He needed uncle. But he’d led his uncle to ruin so many times and nearly to his death. With Zuko gone, he would be able to go back home the only thing keeping him was some misplaced duty towards a royal failure. His impulsivity after Zhao had captured the Avatar was what led him here.
If the admiral wanted his death. Zuko would haunt him as a spirit. One stowaway among hundreds of warships was certainly hard to spot.
Zuko continued on the rooftops towards a bar. First things first, he wanted shoes. With so many people in the navy, a spare change of clothes wouldn’t be missed.
The naval security was almost laughably incompetent, Zhao’s quarters were as ostentatious as he expected of the man. It was filled with medals he’d earned, and odd paraphernalia from across the Earth Kingdom. Gold and jade were common sites. The vein man was minor nobility and from the looks of his cabin, he was overcompensating. He’d hoped to find something incriminating aboard the ship, but his searching hadn’t brought anything up. Zhao was an idiot but, he was an idiot that covered his tracks.
Zuko shook his head and changed course. If he intended to stay off the radar, he’d need to either find his old ship’s medic and swear him to secrecy…which was like looking for a needle in a haystack among all these ships, or he could simply get some gold and pay someone to patch him up. He had some time before the fleet left after all.
This far north and into the colonies, he wasn’t exactly recognizable, his last official portrait had been before he’d been banished, he would be a scarless thirteen-year-old in the eyes of most of the fire nation. Without his royal armour, he wasn’t even sure if the average officer would recognize him, but he didn’t want to risk it.
Well Zhao had spared an entire chest worth of gold for his assassination attempt, he could give some to Zuko. He was owed it.
The ships finances were kept in the bookkeeper’s office. Zuko was unsure what the gold used to pay the pirates would have been listed as but if he rewrote some numbers on the ledger to skim some gold off, people would be none the wiser.
As he’d spent the past three years on a ship, albeit one much smaller, Zuko was familiar with the general layout of the fire navy’s vessels. The bookkeeper would work outside of the same area as the helmsman.
Once outside Zhao’s quarters Zuko adopted the baring of a simple sentry. With his faceplate down, those he walked past didn't notice him. This late in the night, there weren’t many people on guard on the ships, but on one this large, one more wouldn’t be noticed.
The bookkeeper’s office was locked, but Zuko was prepared. During his avatar hunt, Zuko often pilfered some of the intel other command centres would get, so he had practice opening closed doors. Picking the lock was child’s play.
After, Zuko detoured towards the armoury. It took a few minutes to find a pair of dual broadswords. He wanted to groan; their balance was terrible. Not crafted with the help of the best swordsmith in the Fire Nation, but they’d have to do. He’d need to fix them up a bit with his bending and a whetstone, but that was for later. He slipped them back into their scabbard and onto his back.
A light came from around the corner, but he was gone before anyone could spot him.
His pockets slightly heavier, Zuko made his way back off the ship and into town.
The town’s doctor wasn’t that hard to find, the symbol for medic was plastered on the sign. Zuko had dispelled his armour around the backside of the building before he was about to knock on the door.
Then he hesitated. Sure, his face wasn’t recognizable, but without the helmet, his hair would be visible. Even in the colonies people would recognize that he’d been shorn in disgrace, the only hair left to grow being where his topknot would be. He could braid it like an Earth Kingdom queue, but too much of it was shaved.
Dead men didn’t exactly have honour. So, Zuko took out the knife strapped to his side. It was singed from the blast anyways, he reassured himself, hair grows back.
Zhao’s words cemented his resolve, if your father really wanted you home, he would have let you return by now, Avatar or no Avatar. But in his eyes, you are a failure and a disgrace.
He didn’t have honour just yet, but he’d regain it.