Chapter Text
Three years ago, Firelord Ozai crossed a line, as he had done many times before. As always, after reaching a new level of immorality, it seemed as though he found boundless new methods to torture the world.
Ozai had never been a loving father, not only to Zuko. He just didn’t have it in him to love. He desired power, so he respected Azula - needed her. He did not love her.
But that was exactly the difference between the two siblings, while Azula had been in the presence of indifference - a possible liking - Zuko wasn’t just subject to a lack of love. No, he faced hatred. Pure disdain.
He would shame Zuko, he would let others hurt Zuko - teachers, mentors, sages. He was even willing to kill him.
When the young boy first picked up his dual blades, he was made an embarrassment - too weak a bender, a disgrace to all royal lineage.
When he failed in his bending lessons, the sages would harm him - physically punish him, and as he returned to the palace with scars or bruises, welts or burns across his body, all his father cared for was to highlight the failures, to compare them to Azula’s successes.
At only 10, his father believed a path to the throne outweighed Zuko’s very life.
But it was three years ago that Ozai first left a visible mark on the boy, leaving a scar for the world to see. Shaming him, hurting him and challenging him to death, at once. Publicly humiliating him in a duel meant as a display of respect between two matched opponents, rivals.
And since then, Ozai had grown in aggression, in his abuse. He no longer cared to hide his cruelty, he was the Firelord, any one who questioned him would bear the same fate.
A dishonoured prince, subject only to pain at the hands of his own nation.
Zuko was an outsider; to the people, to the palace, to his family.
Now a literal outsider. The room stretched on far enough to be filled with a colony, but only two people occupied it. They sat in the middle, royal banners falling to the floor around them. But it was outside of the room that Zuko stood, not welcomed in as his sister was, behind the curtains of the entrance, he found himself eavesdropping on the conversation being held within the four concrete walls.
“It’s not that easy Azula-”
“Well, I don’t see why not, you’re the Firelord. ‘Princess Azula shall be the new heir’ is all it takes,” the young girl mocked, lowering her voice as she impersonated her father. “Who would dare argue with you? Like seriously-”
“Traditions, Azula! They must be upheld, I cannot disregard my eldest.”
“Is that not what you’ve been doing these past years?” The man sighed at her childish nature.
“No matter how well fitted you are to the throne. I need a justifiable reason, unless you did something so honourable it would be senseless not to accept you as the next Firelord, nothing can be done.” Zuko could sense it; there was something more. Father didn’t speak in theory, he led through action.
“Yeah, I know, like save the fire nation from an incompetent leader? Hello, sounds pretty honourable to me.” She shrugged at the older man, uncaring for their father's palter.
“Azula, we’ve heard word from our troops in the South,” the harsh yell brought silence to the room, as Azula finally paid honest attention to her father’s words. “The Avatar has returned… And you will bring him to us.”
Unable to withhold his surprise, Zuko gasped from behind the door. Before a move could be made for his discovery, he left to venture across the palace, headed for his uncle's room. Though finding nobody there, he left a note to the man - a fleeting farewell embedded into a lengthy display of gratitude.
That had been all it took for Zuko to leave.
He wasn’t really sure what for, he just knew he had to leave. He feared the day his father got his way, he knew the man always wanted to discard him in some way. However possible. And now he had that option, if Zuko was not the heir, there would be no need for Zuko at all… What would happen to him?
Was he leaving to save his own life?
If he wasn’t in the palace, the Firelord couldn’t kill him.
If he found the Avatar… Father would be proud; he would become a deserving heir…
No, that didn’t matter, he shouldn’t wish for the respect of a man who couldn’t be pleased.
Would he be protected? If he reached the Avatar, he would reach a symbol of peace. Would he be safe from his father then?..
He pocketed a few thousand ban, spare clothes, and his swords - then headed for the departing warships.
“Prince Zuko, what are you doing here?” A gravelly voice bellowed, aggravation apparent in the tone. Zuko jumped at the deep voice, turning to face Commander Zhao.
“Just, overseeing… things… Taking an interest in our recruits and all. Yeah.” He inched back ever so slightly, resisting the urge to shoot a thumbs up at the man - as if that would ease his suspicion.
“Do you not trust my abilities, my command?” The older man challenged.
“Of course I do, just… This will all be mine one day, I wish to see what will soon be mine.”
Before the man even responded, Zuko could see the smirk, like he knew - he knew that this empire was never meant for Zuko. “Ah, yes... well, I can’t deny the prince his opportunity to satiate his ambitions, can I? Carry on Prince Zuko.” Condescension seeped out of his mouth, laced in his words - Zuko near scoffed as the man turned away from him, shocked at him believing Zuko’s lies. Zuko wouldn’t believe them.
Once the man turned the corner, he headed for the rations, filling a barrel of a sailing dinghy in preparation to head out to sea, for Kyoshi Island.
South - but not too South - and essentially an Avatar shrine.
It was just a hunch, but it made the most sense to him, where else would the Avatar be other than an Island dedicated to them? It was relatively Southern, and the Avatar surely wouldn't stay in one place during war, so they must have moved more north anyway.
But of course, Zuko being the fool he was, hadn’t noticed Zhao’s return. Only as he went to release the boat from where it was tied on the quay did he notice the embers flying through the air - aimed for him.
“Leaving, and taking Fire Nation supplies with you!? Traitor!” The commander yelled out.
“No, Zhao, you’ve misunderstood-” Though he was cut off by another sharp flame sent in his direction.
With no other option, Zuko fought back - splitting the fire sent his way, sending short yet heated blasts at the opponent. Forcing him backwards, away from Zuko’s ship. Quickly, Zuko boarded, sending one last blast - shooting the small boat away while simultaneously propelling Zhao further backwards, finally allowing him to begin his journey.