Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The boy hadn’t seen the sun in almost three years. It took only three months for him to feel its power drain from his veins and there was no warmth left in his bones after that, no matter how hard he reached for it. 

The boy had tried to escape three times before (and served the price), but had been on good behavior for the past five weeks and thus was granted an oil lamp to keep above his cot. He liked watching the flicker perform dragon dances for him along the walls, and if he reached his hand as high as it could go, he could feel the memory of fire pulsating against his fingertips. It reminded him of his mother’s breath on his cheek, or her hand caressing his forehead when he was sick with fever. (If he could think really hard and hold his breath for as long as he could, he could see her face in his mind. She was always smiling.)

But the false warmth of the oil lamp could not break through the chill of the icy bonds around his wrist, and he could only stretch for so long and yearn so hard before he slumped back into his cot. When this inevitably happened, he forced himself to punch the stone wall until his knuckles bled, and then worked his body until his muscles burned like some semblance of a flame. The pounding of his fist against the wall was a war drum echoing around his cell, but it did not play to the rhythm of his ancestors. It played only to his pain. 

When he could stand, he would fight - fight the shadows on the walls, fight the figures the oil lamp’s flame gave life to, fight the spirits he could feel taunting him in the tight corners. Throughout the years, the boy had kept one promise to himself: to never let his body forget its way of bending. When he could not move, he traced katas along the wall and mumbled the steps under his breath. The stone around him became a bending scroll inscribed with invisible instructions, and yet - no matter how many times he wrote into his skin or reviewed the steps aloud while reaching out towards the flame above him, no warmth returned to his bones, and the bonds would only grow colder, and the blood around his knuckles would dry and his labored breath brought no comfort to frostbitten fingers. 

(Fire is dangerous and painful, his mother told him, but it is also warmth and life, and it will always be here, it will always be in you, as long as Agni reigns above us all.)

(Agni is gone.)

(Agni abandoned him a long time ago.)

(The boy is alone.)

“Here ya go, kid. Don’t gobble it up at once.”

The scratchiness in the guard’s voice told Zuko it was Yaosen at his door. That, and the stubby pinky-finger attached to the hand poking through the slot with Zuko’s meal for the day. Zuko knew Yaosen’s name the first time it was beaten into him, but it was fun to continue to obnoxiously announce he had forgotten. Entertainment, one could say. 

“Sorry, who is it?

Yaosen let the tray with his food drop and drew back his clenched hand. Three bowls of cold rice, cold porridge, and cold water clattered on the ground, spilling its contents nearly out of Zuko’s reach. He smirked. Picking grains off the ground was worth the indignation. 

“You try that shit one more time I’m taking that lamp, boy,” snarled Yaosen, peeking through the slot. Zuko’s smirk faltered. “Now, what do you say. Hm?”

Fuck. He hated this. “I-I apologize.”

“What was that?”

He spoke louder. “I apologize, Yaosen, sir.”

“Good. Cut that shit out. You’re lucky it’s me today, boy. Taosen’s in a bad mood. Looking for somethin’ to get his anger out. ‘Fact, I’m pretty tired. I might take a break.”

“I’m very sorry, Yaosen, sir,” Zuko spit out, trying desperately to hold his tongue. “I meant no disrespect. Please forgive me. I much prefer you to Taosen.”

“You do, eh? Maybe I should go tell him that. See what he thinks about you playing favorites.”

(Zuko could feel his heartbeat.) “I-”

“Relax, kid,” and Yaosen let out a hearty laugh. “We’re just having a little fun. Laugh, a little, eh?” 

Zuko had not laughed in a long, long time. 

“Eat your porridge. It’ll help you grow big and strong.” He laughed, again. It was loud and ugly, but it was the only joy within these walls. 

Zuko scooped up the remains of the rice and porridge with the edge of his bowl and absentmindedly picked bits of gravel out, scooting to the back wall beneath his lamp, but his fingers were shaking and his knuckles were bloody, so he drew a very basic kata along his forearm before eating. Maybe it was a way to center himself. Maybe he didn’t want to forget its familiarity. Maybe he did want to forget how he knew that it was laced with bending suppressants. 

He slept for as long as he could and only woke, irritability, due to the conversation outside his cell. He didn’t recognize the voices, and they were obviously new, given they were foolishly speaking loud enough for Zuko to hear them. 

“And I swear to Agni, I looked this guy up and down, and I was like, this guy’s not Fire Nation - he, he had those weird hair tails that the water tribes have, y’know? But he was dressed in Fire Nation garments, and -”

“Right, right, get on with it.”

“I am getting on with it, just don’t interrupt me. Spirits… okay, okay, so I was like, who do you think you are? And it obviously took this guy a minute before realizing he’d been caught or whatever, cause he was just standing there like a squirrel toad you caught snooping in your trash, and then he started blessing Agni or whatever -”

“He what?”

“I’m not kidding! I’m not kidding! Started talking like the Fire Sages themselves, so I asked him where he’s from and it took him a minute to say Flame City.”

“No way.”

“Yes, way. I’m totally serious. He claimed it’s a colony.”

“Y’know, I actually think my grandma’s from there.”

“Pshh, shut up. Anyway, enough about my own work. I heard you’re in the colonies. What’s that like? I’m sure that’s so very exciting.”

“It is exciting. And you’ll be even more excited to hear what I heard.”

Zuko leaned in. 

“Rumor has it… the Avatar is back, and he’s somewhere in the Earth Kingdom.”

The other guard was silent. Zuko was also silent. 

“You’re joking.”

“Were you joking about that water tribe fellow?”

“Well, I may have exaggerated a bit.”

“Ok, but I’m not. A buddy of mine even had a run-in with him.”

“No shit.”

“Yes, shit! He’s back, dude, and Zhao is pissed off. He’s sending like, all his resources into finding this kid.”

“He’s a kid?”

“Yeah, like basically a toddler! Or a pre-teen, or something. We think he’s traveling with two others. Watertribe, probably. They had a run-in with pirates where one of his companions stole a waterbending scroll.”

“A waterbender?”

“I know, right! Last I heard, they might be near Yu Dao.”

“Spirits, that really changes things. I thought that was just a children’s tale. How’d you end up in this shithole after working something like that?”

“Well, I wasn’t really working it, but… I pissed on my Captain’s bedroll.”

Zuko slumped against the back wall, not even flinching when the chains cut into his pinched skin. His heart was ramming against his chest. The little flame in his lamp was flickering madly as if it wanted to bust out of its glass enclosure. Zuko understood the feeling. He wanted to reach for it, to cup it in his hands, and smother the life out of it. He wanted it to forget the feeling of Agni’s fire like he had, and he wanted it to burn from the inside out and understand the experience of only knowing the cold. 

But he didn’t reach for it, and the conversation pierced its way back into his consciousness. 

“Damn, it’s freezing down here. Care to warm us up a bit?”

“Sorry, I’m not a bender.”

Zuko sat forward. 

“Really? You were really giving me that vibe.”

“Of a bender? Thanks!.”

Zuko rolled his shoulders back. The flame sputtered and grew calmer. His heartbeat slowed with it.

“Ex-excuse me,” he started. “My - my throat. I need my medicine.”

“Who was that?”

“Uh, 00894, right ahead of us.”

“Right. What do you want, 00894?”

“Please,” Zuko said. “I need my medicine. My - my throat,” and he forced out a wet cough, “My throat is closing.”

“Shit. Are we allowed to let him die?”

“Uh…” A ruffling of papers. “Nope, not this one. Nothing about medicine, though.”

“Please,” Zuko tried again, “Help me.”

“Eh, it wouldn’t hurt to check in on him. C’mon, open the door.”

There was a CREAK of metal, a shuffling of feet, and his door slid open. Zuko let himself collapse onto the floor and flopped around like a fish starved for water. 

“Help,” he rasped, “I can’t breathe.” He began to thrash around more violently, allowing his limbs to get tangled in the chains and dislocate his shoulder. 

“Oh, spirits, uh, Toru, unlock his arms!” 

“Are you sure?”

“Look, he’s gonna fucking break his arms! Unlock them!”

The manacles broke free, and Zuko, still on the ground, propped himself up on an elbow and swept his legs out from under the two guards. 

“Shit!” Toru hissed. Zuko grabbed his own chains and threw them around Toru’s neck, tearing off his helmet and holding him against the wall with his foot while pulling the chain back against his windpipe. The other guard scrambled back to his feet and lunged for Zuko; he grabbed the guard’s collar and smashed his face into the stone, once, twice, three times, until he crumpled. Toru went limp. Zuko held on for a few more seconds for good measure. The flame in his lamp jumped with energy and Zuko watched, for just a moment, as its shadows performed on the wall. He liked to think they were showing off their dances then, just for him. 

He let Toru fall and grabbed the keys, unlocking the manacles from his ankles. Quickly, he slammed his shoulder against the wall to pop it back into place and stripped of his rags to don Toru’s garments and helmet. He closed the door and stepped out into the corridor -- the three other prisoners in this lane were silent, even if they heard the struggle. There was enough respect in this place for us vermin to stick together, Zuko pondered. 

He flexed his aching shoulders and pressed on, slipping past other guards on the floor. They were all too drunk to ask to see his face when he flashed them Toru’s identification, and opened the wide gates for him to pass without question. 

The first time Zuko stepped foot outside in many months, it was cloudy and unusually cold for the Fire Nation’s tropic climate. He nearly laughed at the wickedness of it. The betrayal of Agni to not grant him a glimmer of his light and power struck deep in Zuko’s bones and stayed with him as he walked on, aching and sore. He forgot the greatness of the world, its size, the stretch of the sky. The earth was damp and cool beneath his clothed feet and a whisper of wind sent a chill down his spine. (The clouds wouldn’t budge, and Zuko could feel the suppressants still pumping through his blood, and he did not try to conjure a flame or warm himself against the wind chill. Still, he moved to shield his eyes from the dim, yet harsh light.)

Men were working through training drills in the courtyard as he stepped out. They threw fire fists and swept fire arcs into the sky. Zuko flinched away from the flames and a small voice inside of him said, you want this. Go, be warm. He sneered back, their flames are like ice to me. He turned his back to the soldiers and slipped through the prison gates, nodding to a man stationed on the guardpost as he passed. They would soon ring the alarm that he had escaped. (He hoped that man on the guardpost would remember seeing a bootless man hurry past. He hoped never to see the man on the guardpost again.) (But for some strange unknown, he believed he would. His hopes had never played out in his favor before.)

The underground prison was on an island outpost populated with soldiers living in and near the only village, whose merchants sold mainly military gear and snacks to feed the hungry guard. He would not look strange in the armor, milling through stalls, face hidden beneath a helmet, but as soon as he could he discarded the bulky pieces for a cloak, left out to dry in someone’s yard, and kept the hood over his head. Zuko didn’t suppose any commoners would recognize him, but his scar alone would sure raise questions. (He’d never seen it on his face before. He’d only felt its roughness. Its creases and dips and flaky skin.)

Toku, poor idiot that he was, did have a fair amount of copper and silver pieces in a deerskin pouch with his armor, and Zuko quickly bought strips of jerky to pack away, along with a small hunting knife. (As he went, he slipped a map into his cloak. This land was strange to him and he did not like unknowns.) 

He pushed through the market, nibbling as best he could on the tough jerky (his teeth had grown weak from eating only stale rice and chunky porridge), headed for the harbor. A voice stopped him. 

“My one weekend off and Agni curses us with clouds!” 

The voice laughed. 

“Just my luck, eh?”

“Gee, Taosen, you can’t go blaming all your misfortunes on Agni! Blame the Commander!” 

Zuko blinked, and he was curled up in the corner of his cell, the left half of his face covered gauze. The smell of infection, pus, and blood clogged his sinuses as he gasped for clean air and blinked, rapidly with his right eye, searching for any source of light. Searching for the sun in this pit. 

“Zuko,” the man in front of him mused. He was a faceless shadow standing above the boy. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Father,” Zuko rasped, reaching a trembling hand out. “Father, please.”

The shadow grabbed his wrist and twisted it backward, sending numb bolts of pain up his arm. The boy cried out, weakly, and grunted as the shadow picked him up by the neck, warm fingers pressed against the skin, only to slam him back against hard rock. Fire needs oxygen to breathe, Zuko reminded himself. 

“I am not your father,” the shadow hissed. “You have no father now. Fire Lord Ozai has no son, boy. You are no longer a prince.” He eased the pressure on Zuko’s neck. “The real Prince Zuko tried to assassinate his father the night after the Agni Kai,” the shadow said casually, “And thus, has been imprisoned for the rest of his days. He will never see Agni’s light again.”

“I -”

His head whipped to the right. The shadow man had backhanded his wounded side. “You do not speak, boy,” the man snarled. “There is nothing for you here but the dark and the cold.” He stood up, and spoke in a cool tone, “My name is Taosen. We will become very close, you and I.”

“Five silver pieces for this leather sack? Are you kidding me?”

“Oh, come on Taosen, you just got a raise!”

Zuko blinked. The world was not bathed in black anymore. He was staring at the pair of guards three or four stalls down from him, checking out its collection of knapsacks and intricate weapon sheaths, and as Taosen moved his head in Zuko’s direction, the boy looked away. He hurried for the harbor. 

Zuko spent two nights on ferry set for Yu Dao, huddled in the corner of the packed cargo hold. The sway of the boat reminded him of the infrequent dreams he had of riding the last living dragon, high high high into the sky, only to drift through the clouds aimlessly, without purpose. The sun was always shining in those dreams, but its warmth never seemed to reach him in his sleep. 

The ferry arrived at dawn, yet there was no stirring of inner fire within his gut as the sun rose, and the sky was gray and dismal. He got the message and stumbled onto shore. He was not dreaming anymore. 

Fire Lord Ozai has no son, boy. You are no longer a prince. 

“And where are you headed to, young man?” 

Zuko turned so fast he felt his neck crack, only to be confronted with a hunch-backed old man with a sagging beard, pulling a cart stuffed with theatrical masks. The man’s eyes were shut to the extent that Zuko assumed he was blind, but he tracked Zuko as the boy apprehensively moved backward. 

“I’m - I’m not sure,” he said. “I’m here to find the Avatar.”

The man’s bushy eyebrows raised. His eyes did not open. “The Avatar, eh? Is that so? Why?”

“I’m…” I don’t know. “None of your business. Do you know where I can find him?”

The old man smiled wide, his wrinkles creasing into canyons in his skin. He turned, slowly, and raised his hand. One gnarly finger pointed to the dense green in the distance and the peaks etched into the horizon, tops blurred with the clouds. 

“The Pohuai Stronghold is not too far from here,” the old man said, turning his head back. He was still smiling. “You could try there.”

Zuko faltered and bowed, his back aching with the action’s unfamiliarity. “Thank you, sir.”

“That’s a nasty looking scar on your face, young man,” said the other. His eyes had not seemed to open. “I wonder how that came to be.”

Perhaps involuntarily, Zuko’s fingers fluttered to the edge of his scar. He pulled his hood over his head. “Yes,” he said.

“I heard they’re looking for an escaped prisoner with a scar just like that.”

His blood ran cold. His clothes provided no warmth. Agni had abandoned him. 

“Is that so?” he asked, slowly, carefully. The old man’s grin widened and he leaned in as if to tell Zuko a secret. 

“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I won’t tell.” He leaned back and stretched, yawning towards the sky and announced his departure loudly. “Well, I must be off. Best of luck finding the Avatar, young man! May Agni be with you!” 

Zuko stood still as the man trotted off, pulling the cart behind him, and after a split second hesitation (he could not let his actions be weighed down with guilt, this was survival ), he swiped a monstrous blue mask off the back and slipped it into his coat. He supposed it was probably a spirit, but the spirits were gone, and Zuko didn’t feel much like honoring them. 

“I need a sword.”

The merchant cocked one eyebrow and glanced up from the book he was skimming. “Excuse me?” he drawled. Zuko shifted his feet. 

“I need a sword. I have 5 copper and 3 silver pieces. And -” he withdrew the hunting knife from his cloak and slapped it onto the stall counter- “I can trade you this knife. Never used. And I also have jerky. I… did eat some of it.” He put the jerky next to the knife. 

The merchant scoffed. “Keep your jerky, kid, you look like a damn stick. As for your sword… what’ll you use it for?”

“I'm going to the Pohuai Stronghold, I think.”

The man didn’t question it. “That’s up there in thick swamplands. I got these dual Dao swords, perfect for slashin’ and cuttin’ and killin’ and whatever else you wanna do with them. Can you handle those?”

“Yes, I can handle them.” 

“Fantastic. Highly recommend if yer going up in the wilderness and such. Give me all yer coins and that knife and we’ll call it a deal.”

Zuko bristled. “But that’s… all my money. The knife is worth four copper pieces.”

“And the swords are worth nearly 9 silver pieces,” the merchant shot back. “C’mon, hand it over. Y’know what, take this complimentary bag o’ jerky.”

“Th-that was mine, to begin with!” 

“You want your swords or not?” the man snapped. He pushed back from his stool and rummaged around behind the counter before pulling them out: two gleaming, silver blades, curved into their tip. They looked very much like the ones Lu Ten used to train Zuko. He swallowed. 

“Fine. Here.”

The coins jingled as they hit the counter haphazardly, sending the merchant into a scramble to collect them. Zuko grabbed the dual daos and swiped the jerky back into his pocket. “Thanks,” he said, turning away. 

“Get outta here.”

The underside of the komodo rhino stunk of dung and dirt as it trotted down the dirt forest passes, and Zuko’s fingers ached from latching onto the wooden planks below the carriage. It stopped, suddenly. A flicker of torchlight moved around the carriage. 

“All clear,” the guard said. Zuko could hear his feet crunch the gravel as he made his way to the side, and winced as he heard him kneel down. He swiftly launched himself into the belly of the cart and pressed himself to the wood. “Yep, all clear.”

The sewers beneath the stronghold were cold. He ran faster. 

Four guards stood at the entrance to the Avatar’s holding cell. They did not see him in the shadows. They did not last.

The Avatar… the boy was in the center of this large room, larger than any holding cell Zuko’s ever seen, with his arms stretched out in chains. Zuko’s own arms winced in sympathy. The boy gasped upon seeing him and for a second, Zuko forgot he was wearing the mask, and then rationalized that if the Avatar had seen his true face he would probably still gasp. (He saw his reflection in a pool of water while trekking through the woods. He had looked away.)

In probably an unnecessary display of showmanship, he sliced the chains and walked away. 

“Who are you?” the Avatar called back. “What’s going on? Are you here to rescue me?”

Zuko motioned for him to follow. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

The boy was distracted easily -- Zuko had to pull him away from snatching up half-frozen frogs (??), but they continued through the stronghold and crept into the sewers. 

Halfway up the wall, the alarm sounded, painfully loudly, reminding Zuko of the times he’d tried to escape. Zuko drew his swords. 

“The Avatar has escaped! Close all gates immediately!”

“Stay close to me!”

Zuko wanted to scoff at the boy’s foolish braveness, but his own muscles were weak from fatigue and his blades could only hold off so many firebenders at once. With a single gust of wind, the line of guards was thrown to the sides, undoubtedly breaking a few necks. The gates were still closing. Shit - he was caught in the middle of the lot of them. Another gust of wind from the boy. He planted his feet to stay grounded, but for a second he wished to tumble into the air with the rest of them. (Maybe then he could rest.) 

Then he was - then he was high, in the air, on the back of a dragon, soaring into the bright, kind sky, touching the sun - 

No, he was being carried by a young boy known as the Avatar, and the sky was black and dismal and sad, and he hadn’t slept in many hours, and arrows were still coming at him and he was swinging violently to keep them from landing their marks. The pair fell with a sickening thud onto the top of the gates, and the Avatar was being attacked by an armored man, and Zuko grabbed the man’s neck like what he did with Toku and sent him over the side. This guard could not fly. 

They both struck down the men scaling the walls and suddenly they were crawling through the sky over the gates, the bamboo ladders their legs. They were back on the ground and Zuko positioned himself in front of the boy, but then there was a sweep of the leg, and there was fire - 

The Avatar pushed him back and extinguished the living flames with his wind. 

“Hold your fire! The Avatar must be captured alive!”

Zhao. The man had laughed when Ozai struck his blow. 

Zuko grabbed the Avatar and held the dual Dao blades to his throat. He looked into Zhao’s eyes. Zhao looked into his. 

“Open the gate.” 

“Admiral, what are you doing?”

“Let them out. Now!” 

The metal creaked and Zuko slunk back, the Avatar still in his arms, into the shadows. 

Far above, an archer notched his arrow. 

Far above, a spirit hummed. Agni, shall it run true?

The sun responded. The boy needs time. The Avatar must continue his journey without him, for now. 

There was a ping, and his head was ripped backward, and he was on the ground, the mask torn off his face. There the Avatar was, staring into him, gray eyes wide. 

“Go,” Zuko managed. He cursed, stumbled to his feet with his blades, and swung one of them wildly at the Avatar. The boy stepped back. “Go,” he repeated, jaw clenched. 

“I’m sorry,” the boy said, and it looked like he meant it. He disappeared behind a wall of dust. 

Zuko readied his stance against the oncoming admiral, mask be damned. For a moment, his blades seemed light, and the chill deep in his bones lessened, and the fire burning from torches seemed to reach his skin. 

“Prince Zuko,” the admiral mused, stepping forward. If the guards behind him were confused, they didn’t show it. He grew cold and heavy again. “I heard you had escaped. Didn’t think you’d be coming to save the Avatar.”

Zuko did not respond. 

“Whose side are you on, anyway?”

“My own.”

Zhao laughed. “How noble, Prince Zuko.”

“I am no longer a prince.” 

He laughed again. “Oh, come now. I’m sure your father would be very pleased to hear you had the resources to break out of that little cell of yours. Without firebending too, right? I heard the suppressants there are just awful. You must have been keeping in shape.”

Zuko squirmed. “You let the Avatar getaway. Why.”

“Why did you try to save him?”

A pause. “I know what it is to be imprisoned unjustly.”

Another laugh. Deep and hearty. “Please, little Zuko. You know nothing of real imprisonment.” His voice softened. “There is nothing out here for you, Zuko. Surrender now. You will never know peace as a refugee.”

“I will never know peace in prison.”

“Do not be a coward,” Zhao said, slowly. “Face your punishment like a man. Like a prince. You just killed several of my men. I will not let you escape after that. Come with me now, Prince Zuko. Come honorably.” He extended a hand. “All will be forgiven soon.”

The blades lowered, perhaps involuntarily. Zuko’s hands were shaking. He was very, very tired. 

“Please don’t tell my father,” he mumbled. 

A rough boot slammed against his back and he fell to the ground, face smashing against the dirt with a grunt. A knee pressed his neck flat against the gravel. Zhao leaned in close, grinning with his crooked teeth. He spat into Zuko’s face. “You will soon know real imprisonment, my prince.”

Many sunrises and sunsets later, a boy raised his head. His arms were twisted behind him, shackled above his head. He was on his knees. His eyes were open, because someone had placed a burning lamp in front of him. 

“Remember your forefathers,” this someone said. They walked away. 

The boy swallowed. The little flame was close to his skin - dangerously close, and for the first time in a long time, he felt its burning warmth. 

Remember us. 

You are the Prince of Fire. 

Do not forget us. 

The little flame rose and fell with his heartbeat. His heart beat to his breath. The little flame dug its way into his bones, and for the first time in a long time, something in his gut stirred. 

Be with me, please, Agni. Your blood is my blood. 

While the Avatar and his friends fought their way through Ba Sing Se, Zuko let his skin melt his bonds, and his breath of fire tore the way to his freedom. 

Chapter Text

A stranger climbed the steps to the palace in Ba Sing Se. He wore simple Earth Nation robes and no shoes, typical of a well rounded earthbender, which was what was perceived of him. The sickening burn that covered half of his face and the scars that wrapped around his wrists might suggest otherwise, but many Earth Nation refugees were subject to firebending tyranny. His hair was cropped short around his face, most of its shagginess sliced off with a knife, leaving little of his scar to the imagination. He only received pitying looks on his way through the city. 

A child had grabbed his sleeve and tugged his arm. “Death to the Fire Nation!” he whispered, quite happily, and the person in his clutch had no choice but to nod. 

The stranger was stopped, nearly immediately, at the top of the grand staircase by the Dai Li agents, faces hidden like the guards at his prison. “I’m here to see Princess Azula,” the stranger said calmly. “I’m her brother.”

“Princess Azula has no brother.”

The stranger shrugged. “She didn’t for a while, but now he’s back.”

The agents took his arms and led him inside, forcing him down in the middle of the throne room. He grimaced but willingly went to his knees. 

His sister strode in, escorted by two Dai Li at her side and one at her back. She had gotten taller. Her hair was more well-combed. She had the same smirk as she did when they were children, but when she saw him, it faltered. 

“What is the meaning of this?” she demanded. An agent bowed to her. 

“My Princess, he claims to be your brother.”

“Hello Azula,” Zuko said. Her finger tips flared with blue flame. 

“You - you’re in prison. You tried to kill father.”

“Yes, that’s what he told people,” he agreed. She scowled. 

“You look terrible.”

“Well… I have been in prison.” 

She sighed and extinguished her flames. “What are you doing here, Zuzu? I’m about to take Ba Sing Se and I’d prefer not to have any distractions.” She slipped into a smile. “I’m about to kill the Avatar.”

He’s here. Good. 

“I’m here to challenge you to an Agni Kai,” Zuko announced. She let out a short, quick laugh. 

“An Agni Kai, Zuko? I don’t remember that turning out so well for you last time. What would we play for, anyway?”

“For you and our troops to leave Ba Sing Se. For you to end this siege.”

Another laugh. Loud and piercing. She was clearly amused. 

“Leave Ba Sing Se? Are you feeling well, Zuzu? Pshh, please.” She grinned toothily.  “If we’re to fight, I’d prefer it to be to our deaths.”

“I’ve heard what the Fire Nation has been doing to the Earth Kingdom and beyond,” he said slowly. “The war is over. We won a long time ago.”

“You know nothing about the war,” she hissed, and advanced swiftly towards him, grabbing his chin and digging in with her long, painted fingernails. “You’ve been gone , brother dear. And in your absence, father and I have been conquering the world.” She smiled, wickedly. “It’s almost like I’m the son he never had.”

Zuko stared hard at her. “I challenge you to an Agni Kai,” he repeated. She scoffed and dropped his chin. 

“No thanks,” she said simply. 

“Are you a coward?”

Another laugh. “Oh Zuko, I am not the coward here. Please let the Dai Li escort you into the catacombs to await the invasion victory. Perhaps after we celebrate, it’ll be time for father to execute you once and for all. Maybe he’ll give me the privilege!”

She cackled, turned her back. His fists grew hot and in an instance were pulled to the ground, wrapped in stone. Azula didn’t bother to turn when she said, 

“Please, Zuko. Not now.”

Zuko would like to claim that being thrown down the slanted tunnel into the emerald catacomb didn’t cause him to yelp and grunt in pain, but Ursa didn’t raise a liar. He slumped against one of the large, green crystals, groaning. 

“Shit.”

His fists were still wrapped in stone; he pounded them against the crystal until the stone cracked and crumbled. 

“Stop, you’ll hurt yourself!”

He tripped on his own feet spinning around. A girl, maybe a year or two younger than him dressed in Watertribe garments, two loops of hair framing her face, stood not too far from him. He blinked. 

“Huh?”

“Hurting your hands like that!”

He looked down at his knuckles, red and raw from the impact. “They were - I needed to get the stone off,” he said plainly. She narrowed her eyes. 

“You’re not an earthbender?”

“No. Are you?”

She looked down at her own clothing. “No, obviously. I’m a healer, though. I can fix your hands. And- and maybe your burns.”

He looked away. “Those are scars. They can’t be healed.”

“Well, I have -” she pulled out a small, canvas tube - “I have water from the spirit oasis in the North Pole. It has special healing properties. I’ve been saving it for something important. Maybe I could try?”

He shook his head. “No, thank you. Keep it for something better.”

“Could I at least take a look at those knuckles?”

Zuko let her guide him to the small running stream and watched in fascination as she manipulated the water through her fingers and onto his hands. 

“I’ve never seen a waterbender before,” he confessed. She blushed. 

“I’m the only waterbender in our tribe. The… the fire nation took all of them a long time ago. I’m the only one left.”

His mouth was stale and the water seemed to heat up. “I’m so sorry.”

She shrugged. “All my life, I’ve just wanted… to make them pay. But really, I just want to end the war. For everyone.”

“Is that why you’re traveling with the Avatar?”

She glanced up, startled. He swallowed. “Sorry, I - Azula told me the Avatar’s here and I heard he travels with watertribe. I apologize for being blunt.”

“No, it’s alright. Yes, I’m Aang’s waterbending teacher.”

“What’s he like?”

She laughed. “Well, he has a lot to learn. And he’s just a kid, so he has all those kid impulses that annoy us, but he’s powerful.” She cleared her throat. “So, you - you know Azula?”

“You could say that.” The bruises were quickly fading from his knuckles. “I’m here because I tried to kill her.” The girl, startled, nearly lost control of her glowing water. Zuko shrugged. “Well, obviously I didn’t get very far. I want to end the war, too. Figured killing her would get me a one-ticket visit to the Fire Lord himself and end the Ba Sing Se invasion.”

The girl chuckled. “What I would give to be in a room with him,” she agreed. “To just… make him pay, for everything.” She grew quiet. “The Fire Nation… they took my mother.”

He looked down. “I’m very sorry. We have that in common.”

She looked into his eyes. He looked into hers. “Your irises are very golden for an Earth Nation,” she said. 

They were broken out of this strange trance to a huge blast spraying crystal fragments and jagged rocks through the air, embedding shrapnel into the ground. The Avatar stepped through the dust - out of it, not into it, contrasting his actions those many moons ago at the stronghold. A squat, old man emerged beside him, thick whiskers protruding from his face. Zuko’s stomach dropped. 

“Katara!” the Avatar cried, jumping over the debris with grace to join them. He stopped short at the sight of Zuko and his face contorted in confusion. “You.”

“Aang? What’s wrong?”

Zuko kept his eyes on the old man, who came sauntering over with a perplexed look on his face. 

“Aang? What is it?” She backed away from Zuko. “Who is he?”

“Hello, nephew,” the Dragon of the West greeted. Aang and Katara both frowned. 

“Nephew?” she repeated, widening the distance between them. Aang took her hand and brought her close to him. Zuko wanted to laugh at the sight. 

“Iroh,” Zuko greeted, and bowed his head. He hid his marred wrists behind his back. 

“But, Iroh is the Fire Lord’s brother,” Aang said slowly. “This is…. his nephew…?” Katara’s eyes grew wide. 

“Nephew?” she said again. Zuko tried not to take her horrified tone to heart.

“You’ve been gone a long time, nephew,” said Iroh. “You seem... different. Are you here to join Azula?”

Katara scowled and suddenly tendrils of water encircled her fists. Zuko stiffened. 

“Avatar Aang and Lady Katara,” Iroh began solemnly, “Go find your friends. I will handle my nephew.”

There’s nothing to handle, Zuko wanted to snap back, but he glared at the Avatar until the boy moved to pull Katara away. “C’mon,” he was whispering, “Let’s go.”  The girl huffed but obeyed, and they ran into the tunnels.

“I didn’t expect you to turn traitor, General Iroh,” said Zuko. 

“Is that what I am to you, my nephew? A traitor?”

“You are not my uncle.”

His face softened. “You’ve been gone for a long time, Prince Zuko. The world has changed.”

“I have changed,” he said. Iroh’s fists ignited in fire. 

“The tyranny of the Fire Nation has gone on for far too long, Prince Zuko. If you try to stop the Avatar, I will stop you.”

Zuko scoffed. “I am not here to stop the Avatar, General. I’m here to defeat Azula.”

Surprise flickered across the old man’s face and his face creased into a smile, his fire fists extinguishing. “Ah!” he laughed. “So you are on our side, then!”

Zuko looked away. “I don’t know about that.”

Iroh ignored him and moved to embrace his shoulders. Zuko slipped out of his grasp. “Oh, this is wonderful, Prince Zuko! You must join the Avatar and his friends? Why, you could teach him firebending!”

“Why don’t you teach him firebending?”

He let out a hearty laugh. “Oh, my nephew, my destiny lies elsewhere. Have you ever heard of -” he broke off with a surprised grunt as crystals encased him to the earth. Zuko swiveled to his right: Azula and her two Dai Li agents slid down the sides of the chamber. He assumed a readied fighting stance beside Iroh, hands ready. Azula advanced with a cutting smile. 

“I expected this treachery from Uncle, of course, but Zuko - Prince Zuko. You’re a lot of things, but you’re not a traitor, are you?”

“Release him immediately.”

“It’s not too late for you, Zuko. You can still redeem yourself. You can come home. You can prove yourself to father, once and for all.”

“Her redemption is not for you, Zuko! Look into your heart! Look into your destiny!”

“Shut up Uncle,” Azula snapped. “Let him decide for himself, hm?” She looked to Zuko. “We will take this city, and this day will go down in history. You can help me, and come home.” She shrugged, turning away, and motioned for the Dai Li agents to earthbend their way out. They complied.  “Your choice. I’l let you think on it.” And she disappeared into the tunnels. 

“Remember the cruelty they have caused you,” Iroh warned. He must’ve seen Zuko’s trembling fists and the burns that wrapped his wrists. 

“I’m going to do what’s right, Uncle,” said Zuko, and headed after Azula and the Avatar.

“Zuko!”

A child had grabbed his sleeve and tugged his arm. “Death to the Fire Nation!” he whispered, quite happily, and the person in his clutch had no choice but to nod. 

He saw starved prisoners of war trudge down mud-filled paths. He saw a toddler wailing over the body of his mother, blackened and motionless. He saw Taosen’s hand around his throat. He saw his father’s fist onto his face. He saw villages burning. He saw his mother, nursing his training wounds. He saw the faceless Agni, turning away in disapproval as Ozai was crowned Fire Lord.

Zuko arrived to see Azula between Aang and Katara, fingers poised to strike. She smiled when she saw him. 

“Come join me, brother!”

Zuko raised his fists. The fire in his gut stirred. Katara snarled. “Oh, no you don’t!”

“Katara! I got this!” and a gust of wind that was used to save Zuko many moons ago now knocked him to back. The battle continued. Aang stalked toward Zuko, knees bent and hands raised. “I thought you were good.”

“Wait,” Zuko rasped, his chest tight from the force of being knocked down. “You don’t understand -” He realized his fists were on fire, which obviously didn’t help his case, and he was struck down again. He raised a shield of fire above his head and backed up quickly, swinging an arc to dispel another gust of wind. “I’m on your side!”

The Avatar paused his attack. “But you’re - you’re the son of the Fire Lord!”

“He is not my father.”

His head tilted. “Wait, so you’re not his son?”

“That’s not what I -” he groaned. “I want to defeat him! Not join him!”

Aang’s stance didn’t falter. “How do I know we can trust you?”

“How did you know to trust me when I saved you at the Pohuai Stronghold?”

His eyes widened. “So that was you!”

Their momentary truce was shattered, however, by a blast of blue fire nearly knocking Aang into a mound of crystal. “I’ve got the Avatar, brother!” Azula cackled, advancing with blue fire at her feet. “You handle the girl!”

“Azula -”

But the waterbender already had him wrapped in a water whip, which she used to drag him closer across the catacomb floor. He let his hands fire up to cut through the cool water into steam, and shielded his face from another strike. 

“You let me believe you were good!” she shouted, readying her water whips. 

“I let you believe nothing,” Zuko spat. “You know nothing about me.”

“I know you’re the Fire Lord’s son!” Another strike. “I know that you were just attacking Aang!”

“I wasn't -” grunt “- attacking him, I was defending myself!” 

“You better fight harder, Zuzu!” sang Azula, swinging down from a stalactite and landing between him and Katara.  Zuko growled and threw a fireball at her. She deflected it with a hurt look. Katara, on the contrary, blinked. “Not this again, Zuzu.” With a single, powered blast, she knocked Katara down into the crystals and turned on Zuko, hands crackling with energy. He spread his fingers.

 A large rumble interrupted the pair’s locked gaze on each other -- the Avatar was surfing across the catacomb floor on a wave of rock and crystal. Zuko felt a smile flicker. It quickly faded into scorn when Dai Li agents descended from above, knocking the Avatar out of the way. They surrounded the waterbender girl and organized behind Azula, who relaxed her stance and smiled. 

“No way out, Zuzu.”

He looked wildly around: the girl was wrapped in some sort of octopus-water form. She was outnumbered. The Avatar stood still behind Zuko, surveying the same scene. 

“There’s too many,” the boy mumbled. “I’m sorry, Katara.”

He knelt down into a meditation stance. Crystals closed in around him, shielding him from sight. Zuko scowled. Coward, he thought, but then the insides began to glow, and in a last-ditch effort Zuko readied a protective stance in front of the crystal shelter, against his sister. 

“Don’t touch him,” he warned. 

A tense moment later, and the crystal cracked as the Avatar rose into the air, eyes and arrows glowing with light. The fire inside Zuko sputtered at the sight of him, then roared, and his eyes narrowed with a smile. 

He noticed the whisper of energy in the air far too late. 

Lightning struck through the Avatar spirit, and screams cut through the air, and Zuko stumbled as something deep inside him burned, then cooled. 

“Aang!” Katara was screaming. A wave swept him to his knees as the girl ran to the Avatar, clutching him to her chest. Zuko swallowed but positioned himself back in front of the boy and the waterbender. 

“It’s over, Zuzu,” Azula said, casually. She blew the smoke off her fingertips. 

“I haven’t killed you yet,” he growled. Azula, glowering, ignited her hands in blue flame once again. 

Blasts of red and orange fire cut through rows of Dai Li agents, but it didn’t come from Zuko’s fists. 

“You’ve got to get out of here!” his Uncle shouted, riding down the wall of the catacomb in a plume of smoke. “I’ll hold them off as long as I can! Zuko, catch!” It was a stupid wooden Pai Sho tile. The useless one. But Zuko stuffed it into his pocket anyways.

The girl dragged the Avatar’s body to a nearby waterfall, lifting her and Aang up its path. 

“Lady Katara!” Iroh cried. She paused. “Please, take my nephew with you!”

Zuko stared at Katara. She stared at him. He scrambled to the waterfall and let her carry him up. Below him, General Iroh submit to the Dai Li agents, and met his nephew’s eyes once, before turning away. 

“Who’s this?”

“Bind his hands,” Katara snapped. Zuko, unsure of what was going on with the bear and the flying bison and such, presented his marred wrists to the watertribe boy, who regarded him in speculation. He wrapped Zuko’s hands in a tight rope. 

“Katara! Is Aang okay?” fret the young Earth Kingdom girl. No one answered. Does he look okay? Zuko wanted to ask. Katara withdrew her vial of spirit water. She had almost used it on Zuko, to free him of his father’s mark. (He was sure she was glad she hadn’t. He was nothing compared to the Avatar, afterall.) 

After a tense moment, the boy’s tattoos glowed briefly and he stirred. Katara cried out gleefully and held him closer, and Zuko looked away. 

“The Earth Kingdom has fallen,” said the final passenger mournfully. They were all quiet. 

Then, the watertribe boy: “Seriously, who is this guy?”

Chapter Text

The Fire Nation-turned-Water Tribe boat creaked and groaned with every slap against a wave. The push and pull, ebb and flo, reminded Zuko of the two nights he spent on the ferry to Yu Dao, all those months ago, but this ship passage did not lull him into a dream about dragons, and nor was he granted the chance of rest, or privacy. 

Upon immediate capture and boarding of the ship, the Water Tribe girl was ushered off with the unconscious Avatar and Zuko was taken below deck, forced into a small room that contained two sets of bunks, the Fire Nation flag, and a single oil lamp. The Water Tribe boy tied his hands to the hot pipe that ran along the wall, grumbling about how he better not use any firebending or else! 

“Keeping me attached to a steaming pipe with hands bound in rope isn’t the best idea,” Zuko said lamely. The boy scowled. 

“You’re - you’re in no place to make demands!” 

But he rummaged around and pulled out a pair of shackles. Zuko looked down. “Yeah,” he said softly, “Those will do.”

The boy regarded him warily as he untied and re-shackled Zuko’s wrists, instead chaining him to the metal bed pole. “You’re not very Fire Nation for a firebender, y’know.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The boy raised his hands in surrender and rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, it’s just most firebenders we encounter are actively trying to kill us!”

“Yeah, keeping me next to an open flame probably isn’t a great idea,” Zuko agreed, smirking when the boy squirmed. “I’m kidding. I don’t need an open flame.”

“You watch your mouth, boy,” Taosen snarled at him, emerging from the shadowy corner. “I won’t have any of that sass in here, do you understand me?”

The Water Tribe boy paid no attention to the Fire Nation soldier, so Zuko tried not to as well. 

The door banged open and in strode a tall, muscular man with a clenched jaw. His skin, a tanned brown, was the same shade as the Water tribe boy, and he wore Fire Nation armor but with a very obvious Water Tribe hairstyle. Still, his mere entrance commanded respect and made Zuko’s heart start pounding. He even nearly overshadowed Taosen, who did not budge as the man entered the room. The Water Tribe boy grinned and stepped back. 

“What are you doing, Sokka?” the man groaned. Zuko waited for a disciplinary slap on the back of the head. It did not come. 

“Just, interviewing the prisoner is all,” Sokka replied, sheepishly. 

“Oh yeah? Do you have anything to tell me? Because all I know is he’s General Iroh’s nephew, making him the prince. And Katara brought him along with us. Other than that, I’m in the dark.”

“He’s a firebender,” Sokka explained. The man waited for him to add on. He didn’t. 

“That’s all?”

Sokka shrugged. “He hasn’t said much. Other than be a prick about how I was tying him up.”

The man raised an eyebrow. 

“He said that I shouldn’t be tying him to a hot pipe with rope. So I… well, I moved him.”

The man laughed. “Good work, Sokka.” He turned to Zuko, leaning against the edge of the bunk with his hands above his head. “My name’s Hakoda,” the man said. “Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. That’s a nasty-looking scar you got. Did a firebender give that to you?”

Zuko had his gaze locked on the little flame in the lamp across from him. Its shadows did not dance. They merely bounced off of Taosen’s figure. 

“You tell them anything boy, there’ll be fire to pay,” he warned. 

He said nothing. 

“Answer the Chief!” the Water Tribe boy snapped. Hakoda raised his hand to silence him. Zuko continued to say nothing, and the little flame in the lamp was dying. 

“Not very talkative,” Hakoda said. “It’s okay, I get it. Guess we’ll have to try something else.” 

Against his wishes, Zuko felt his whole body flinch backward and he ducked his head further. Nothing they do could possibly be worse than what’s been done in the past. Water Tribe are weak. You will not let anything show. 

Yet, the man did not raise a hand, nor grab any knife from his belt. Zuko glanced up. He was frowning. 

“We’re - we’re not gonna torture you ,” the Water Tribe boy said, sputtering in disbelief. “Tui and La, we’re not Fire Nation.” (Ouch. Whatever. He was right.) “We just want answers. And-and you’re gonna give ‘em to us.”

“What I meant,” said the chieftain calmly, relaxing his face, “was, would you like some tea?”

Zuko blinked. “Wha-?”

“Some tea,” the man explained. “There’s plenty aboard this ship. I’ve had more cups than I could count. I’d say I’m getting pretty good at brewing. So? Tea?”

“Prince Zuko, please, join me by the turtle ducks! I have brewed some ginseng tea for you.”

Zuko regarded his uncle, sitting on the stone bench beside the pond, with suspicion. He came in here to look for a flower for his mother to practice his forms but was greeted instead by this pot-bellied Dragon of the West. “Why can’t Azula join you?” he mumbled. His uncle grinned and held up a cup. 

“Your sister does not care for tea.”

“Well, neither do I.”

“Hm, well perhaps you would care for an old man’s company?” 

Zuko frowned, hesitated, then sat with indignity beside his uncle. “You’re not that old,” he muttered. General Iroh let out a hearty laugh. 

“My nephew, you flatter me! Your beautiful mother must teach you many manners.”

Zuko blushed. “Yeah,” he said, taking a cup. “Mom says I’m better at manners than Azula.”

“Why, you shouldn’t make everything a competition with your sister, nephew. Neither of you will learn anything if you are constantly trying to outdo each other.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he grumbled. Zuko took a sip of the tea and promptly spit it out into the turtleduck pond, setting the cup back down and wincing at its bitter, earthy flavor. One of the chicks squawked and Iroh laughed. 

“Ginseng is… not your cup of tea, hm?” and he chuckled at his own joke. 

“I told you, I don’t like tea,” Zuko said grimly and folded his arms, his robes falling to his elbows. Iroh laughed again, but the sound faltered. 

“Young Zuko, where did you get that burn?” he asked gently, but his voice was tight and marred with quiet anger. (It was gentler than the kind he was used to. Still, Zuko knew not to hold his tongue.) Zuko glanced at the hand-shaped red patch on his skin and shrugged. He pulled his sleeve back down. 

“From one of my Masters. Cause - y’know, it’s still… really hard for me to summon a flame and he wanted me to know what real fire feels like. ‘Sokay. It helped me get better!” And he let out a small burst of gleeful laughter as one of the chicks paddled up to him, squawking weakly. 

“Nephew -”

“Prince Zuko!”

Zuko scrambled to his feet, scaring the chick away and knocking his cup over, spilling the rest of the tea into the grass.  His father stood at the edge of the garden, his body stiff, his face hard. 

“You should be training,” Ozai said. 

“Please, brother,” Iroh said, rising to his feet, “I was merely engaging my nephew in conversation.” 

Ozai stared at him, long and hard. Iroh stared back. Zuko gulped. 

“He should be training,” Ozai repeated. Zuko lowered his head. He bowed to his uncle. 

“Thank you for the tea,” he muttered. Iroh nodded. 

Ozai’s grip was cold and unyielding against the back of Zuko’s neck. There was no warmth in his grasp.

“Tea?” he repeated. Hakoda dipped his head as an answer. Zuko slowly nodded back. Hakoda smiled. “Good. Sokka, watch our guest.”

“Our prisoner,” Sokka corrected, fiercely. He settled down on the bunk opposite Zuko and folded his arms. He paid no attention to Taosen, who was sneering at Zuko. 

“You escaped my prison. You busted into Pohuai. Yet you allow these backwater savages to keep you here? You’re a disgrace. A worthless prince and a mockery to the Fire Nation. Your father should’ve finished the job.” He smiled, smugly. “No matter. I’ll have the honor of doing it myself.”

Zuko’s heart was running hot and fast. It was like a war drum in his ears.

“Uh, hello? Are you deaf? Jeez, Toph would really like that.”

Zuko’s gaze snapped to Sokka, who stared at him with a peculiar look. 

“I’m not deaf,” Zuko said, twisting his face. Sokka huffed. 

“Good. So you have been hearing our questions. You’ve just decided to be a dick about it.” 

“I told you. I’m here to help the Avatar.”

“Likely story, Fire Prince.” 

“It’s my only story,” Zuko snapped. The metal around his wrists was growing hotter. Breathe, breathe, Fire Prince.

“Where’d you get those burns on your wrist then, huh? Or, I don’t know, that one on your face? C’mon. If you want to help the Avatar, then you have to help Team Avatar.” He smiled smugly. “I came up with that name. It’s catching.”

“It’s dumb,” Zuko retorted. Sokka’s face contorted. 

“Why, you -”

Zuko turned his head to the Water Tribe boy’s ramblings and questions. He gritted his teeth and stared ahead, grimly, unyielding. He was the face of his nation. He wouldn’t allow himself to be questioned like this. Mocked like this. 

“If you’re the face of the Fire Nation,” said Taosen, “then damn us all! I’d rather dive into a volcano than be represented by a scarred, banished, worthless prince. Cursed for all eternity, scum of the -”

“Shut up!” Zuko snarled. Taosen grinned and flickered away as Sokka flinched backward. 

“That is no way to talk to your captor,” Sokka snarled back, wagging a finger. “Why, you young man, I’ll have -”

Hakoda entered the room just then, carrying a silver platter, metal cups, and a metal teapot. Uncle always said the metal eroded the flavor, Zuko thought. “Here we are,” said Hakoda. “Ginseng tea.” Zuko wanted to laugh. “I suppose we can free one of your hands to -”

“We are not freeing one of his hands!” Sokka cried, folding his arms. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Zuko said, baring his teeth at Sokka. “I changed my mind. I’m not in the mood for tea anymore.” Uncle would be so ashamed. Uncle doesn’t know anything about me. I don’t know anything about me. Hakoda shrugged. 

“Very well. Sokka, try some.”

“Hmmph,” said the Water Tribe boy and reluctantly grabbed a cup. (Zuko could of laughed at the expression on Sokka’s face after he took a sip. He decidedly didn’t.) “Oh my - bleh! Bleh bleh bleh!” and he spit it back up and wiped his tongue with the blanket. 

“Way to be insulting,” Zuko muttered. Sokka turned red. 

“Oh, you’re one to talk about manners, Fire Nation scum!”

“I’ll have you know -” I was always better at manners than Azula!

“Alright boys, let’s calm down,” said Hakoda, stepping between the two of them. As much as he didn’t want to (stay strong show no fear do not be a coward), he shrunk back at the sight of the chief’s imposing figure. Sokka didn’t back down. (What is it like, Zuko wondered, to not be afraid of your father’s face?) 

“He started it,” Sokka grumbled. Zuko let out a frustrated yell, a month’s worth of anger and bitterness clogged in his throat released at the two Water Tribesmen. The candle flared with light and power, startling them. 

“I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid. This is so pointless. Agni, why have I been such an idiot? Urgh!” 

He saw Sokka reaching for a weapon on his belt and Hakoda moving to stand in front of his son. “Calm down,” the man growled. “We don’t want to hurt you, but when you’re acting irrational -” 

“Crazy!” Sokka corrected. 

“We will have no choice.” He lowered his voice and leaned into Zuko’s gaze, his eyes cold and stormy, like the hurricanes that battered the coastlines every summer. “I don’t think you understand the position you’re in,” he warned. Zuko swallowed. “We are with the Avatar. We will do anything to protect the Avatar. But I will do anything to protect my children. I would even betray Aang for them. If you ever try that shit again, well -” He didn’t have to finish. Zuko was already imagining what the chief’s hand against his throat would feel like. If he would use the same amount of force that Taosen did, or if he would let Zuko’s suffering last as he slowly constricted his airflow. 

“I understand,” Zuko said. His breath shuddered. The candle calmed. Hakoda stepped back and nodded firmly. 

“Good. Let’s go, Sokka, and give our prisoner some alone time.”

Zuko met Sokka’s eyes as they left - they were wide and his face was still. Zuko supposed his father reserved anger only for Fire Nation scum. 

“You’re telling me you didn’t learn anything?” Toph cried, leaning against the metal bars of the ship. 

“No,” Sokka replied mournfully, and Katara groaned.

 “Maybe I should go knock some sense into that punk,” said Toph, slapping her fist to her palm and grinning wildly. Sokka shook his head, remembered the girl is blind and articulated his disagreement. 

“Dad already kinda freaked him out a lot. I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“ Dad? Really? But dad wouldn’t hurt a fly!” Katara remarked. Toph laughed. 

“Are you forgetting we’re in a war, Sweetness?” 

Katara blushed. “Well, no, but I wouldn’t expect - I don’t know. I guess since he’s Fire Nation…” 

“How’s Aang doing?” Sokka quickly lilted, desperate to change the conversation away from the Fire Prince. Katara wrapped her arms around her midsection. 

“Well, he’s stable,” she conceded. “The spirit water was able to - y’know, bring him back. I’m just trying to smooth out these tight balls of energy that are wound up inside him. It’s like - it’s like his own spirit is messed up.” She tilted her head. “I don’t know if that makes sense. Yagoda would probably be better than me at this.”

“Not true!” Sokka burst out. He pondered for a moment. “Yeah, probably true.” Katara punched his arm. “Ow!”

“He’ll be okay,” Toph said, her voice unusually soft. “You’re doing all you can, Katara.”

“I know.” She rubbed her neck and stared out into the sea. “I just hope it’s enough.”

This flame was just mocking him. It laughed as Zuko struggled with breath control, it jeered at him when he accidentally made his shackles to hot and they burned his wrists, it mocked him as he yearned to put it out. Little Fire Prince, said the flame. Can’t even put out a little candlelight like me. How could you ever put out the great cold flame that is your sister, Azula? 

“Shut up,” Zuko growled, clenching his fist. The flame flickered and died and he smiled. A small victory. 

Zuko leaned back in the bunk as comfortably as he could, laying on his side and shifting his shackled arms beneath the pillow. It was completely dark in the cabin now, much like his old cell. If he closed his eyes and forgot the softness of this blanket under him, he could feel the comfortable familiarity of cold, wet stone, his own small world where all he had were his katas, his memories, and the little lamp that hung above his head. Something dark twisted inside him. He didn’t want to be here. He was betraying his nation, betraying his father, Agni, he had wanted to kill his little sister! He was going to disobey his mother’s final wish! Oh, what has he done?

“That’s right,” Taosen cooed from the shadows. “Think of how you have betrayed your father, your countrymen. Think of your actions and their terrible repercussions. Think -”

“And beg for mercy,” his father snarled. 

“Take me back,” he mumbled into his arms. “Please. I’m sorry. You can take me back. I’ll - I’ll be good.”

The door creaked open and a shield of light swept into the cabin, dispanding the whispers. A Water Tribe warrior Zuko didn’t recognize stepped through. “Come on,” he said. “We’re getting you some fresh air. Hey, what happened to the candle?”

Chapter Text

The sun was both blinding and rejuvenating as Zuko stepped out into the deck, led by a Water Tribe warrior with pink burns running up his arm. 

“Who gave those to you?” Zuko had asked without thinking because he was a dumb fucking idiot who knew better than to ask about people’s scars. 

“Who did that to your face?”

He deserved that.

The crew was obviously all conglomerating on deck when they shouldn’t be, probably to take a peek at the captured Prince with a fucked up face. They wandered aimlessly around, sneaking glances until the Water Tribeman holding Zuko gave a look that scattered them. The only ones not pretending to hide their gaze were those three friends of the Avatar - Sokka, the Earth Kingdom girl, and presumably Sokka’s sister - Katra? Kaya? Katara? Whatever. It’s not like they cared about his name.

“Thanks, Bato,” Sokka said, and the man leading him dropped his hand and stalked off. Zuko was left standing awkwardly in front of the trio. 

“Uh, where’s the Chief?” he asked lamely. Stupid idiot, he muttered in his head, why the fuck would you ask that? You don’t want to know where the Chief is! You don’t want to be anywhere NEAR the Chief!

“Why do you ask?” the Water Tribe girl growled. Zuko shrugged. He cleared his throat. Change the subject. 

“Did - did any of the sailors get hurt when you took the ship?”

“Why do you care?” 

The Water Tribe girl again. Zuko glared. “Because they’re my people, that’s why,” he snapped. She sneered. 

“No one was hurt. We’re not Fire Nation.” 

Zuko rolled his eyes. “This again.”

“ Yes, this again! The Fire Nation leaves nothing but pain and death and destruction in their wake! And obviously you don’t care much about your people, since nobody’s heard from you in years!” Ouch. She wasn’t wrong, and she saw the look in his eyes. “Yeah, we’ve done our research.”

 “I would never abandon my people,” he hissed. She took a step forward. 

“Then where were you.” 

That is when the Water Tribe boy grabbed his sister and pulled her back, stepping in front of her and holding his hands out. “Okay, okay,” he said with a sigh of irritation. “Arguing isn’t gonna get anything done. Katara -”

“Don’t tell me what to do! He’s the prisoner!” 

“I got this,” said the girl with the milky eyes, and she planted her bare foot on the ground and clenched her fingers. Zuko yelped as the metal around him warped around his legs, encasing him onto the deck. 

“Toph, as that really necessary?”

“Silence, Sokka! Let the master work.”

“Did you just -”

“Metalbend? Yes.” She put her hands on her hips and grinned. “I’m the greatest Earthbender in the world. I can do anything.”

“You can’t firebend,” Sokka noted. She punched him in the arm. 

“It’s time for my round of questioning,” Toph crowed, cracking her knuckles. Zuko squirmed in the metal, but it was tight and constricting and it was getting hard to breathe, so just breathe, breathe, in and out, CALM DOWN, she’s a little girl she won’t hurt you -

“Whoa, Sparky,” said the girl, stepping back and dropping her fists. Zuko stopped struggling for a moment and met her pale… unseeing eyes. “I’m not actually gonna hurt you. Just gonna, y’know, intimidate you.” 

“I knew that,” he snapped. She raised an eyebrow. 

“Uh-huh.” 

“C’mon Toph, get on with it.” 

The girl nodded but seemed to falter as if the confidence she had emanating a moment ago had dissipated. “What’s your name,” she demanded. 

“Uh, Zuko.”

“Who is your father?”

“Fire Lord Ozai.”

“Okay, now tell me a lie.”

“What?”

“Do it, doofus!”

“Uh, I have purple hair? I'm an earthbender?”

She seemed satisfied with his answers. “Alright Sokka, get on with it.”

Sokka puffed out his chest and advanced on Zuko. “Why were you in Ba Sing Se?”

“To stop my sister. I think.”

“You think?” 

“I don’t know, I guess I wasn’t thinking very straight!”

“Why weren’t you? Why did you want to stop your sister? She’s your sister!”

“Well, you’ve seen how fucked up the stuff she’s done is,” Zuko sputtered. Sokka gasped. 

“No swearing in front of the children!”

“Fuck you, Sokka.”

“Toph - nevermind. Where have you been for the past three years? We can barely find any 

records of you even existing!” 

“That’s my business.”

“You’ll tell us or we’ll -”

“Katara, it’s okay. How do you know about all that shi-stuff your sister’s done?”

“I traveled a long way to Ba Sing Se,” Zuko said lowly. “I saw… a lot.”

There was a boy. A boy named Lee. His brother was sent off to war and he was getting into trouble with local thugs. Zuko just wanted to help. He only ever wanted to help. 

There was a girl. Her name was Song. She had burns on her thighs. Her eyes were sad. He stole her ostrich-horse. 

“And what, some sad Earth Kingdom peasants just changed your whole viewpoint on the war?” Katara challenged. 

“I thought you guys were supposed to be the empathetic ones,” Zuko glowered. “You’ve traveled everywhere. I’m sure, though, you weren’t treated like dirt, because you’re with the Avatar. You must’ve been like royalty to those villagers.”

“And you weren’t? You’re the Prince!” Sokka challenged, sounding genuinely shocked. Agni, how are they so idiotic? How have they survived my sister this long? 

“In case you haven’t noticed, the Fire Nation hasn’t conquered all of the Earth Kingdom yet,” Zuko said through clenched jaws. “If I wanted my head separated from my shoulders I would’ve gladly told them who I am.”

“But, your scar -”

“A lot of peasants have scars,” he retorted, eyes on Katara. “A lot from the Fire Nation.”

Sokka turned to the Earth Kingdom girl. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s telling the truth,” she huffed, moving back to lean against the rail. “Keep going.”

“Why do you want to join the Avatar?”

“I already told you,” he groaned. “My sister is just going to wreak more havoc, more chaos. We won the war a hundred years ago. It’s time to stop.”

“You think we’re just gonna believe that you’re on our side now,” Katara spat, “and not think that you won’t just sell Aang to the Fire Lord as soon as you’ve got the chance?” 

“I never said I’m on your side. I’m still on the side of the Fire Nation. But -” he tilted his head and his shoulders sagged. “Right now, from what I can see, Azula and my father will destroy everything… even the Fire Nation. I'm on my people’s side. And if that means helping you, then… Besides, how could I possibly kidnap the Avatar with all of you breathing down my damned neck?!” 

  “He has a point,” Sokka mused, stroking his chin. Toph kicked the ground. 

“He’s telling the truth,” she said. He couldn’t tell if she was happy about it or not. 

Katara huffed indignantly. “Whatever,” she grumbled. “I’m going to go have a healing session with Aang. Goodbye, Prince.” She disappeared below deck.

The earthbending girl pushed herself off the rail and released him from his makeshift metal prison. He stumbled forward. “Alright. I trust him.”

Sokka and Zuko both blinked. “You do?” they said simultaneously. She grinned. 

“Yeah. And, besides, I’ll know if he tries to betray us or something.”

“How would you -”

“She’s blind,” Sokka said casually. “She sees with her feet. It’s pretty cool. Alright bud, listen up. You’re our prisoner, so there are a few rules.” Rules? “One, no firebending. That’s pretty much a given. Unless y’know, we need you to roast something, but that probably won’t happen, cause we have spark rocks and Katara’s a pretty good cook. Two, no going anywhere near the Avatar’s quarters.”

“I don’t even know where he is.”

“I - good. Three -”

“No smack talking!” Toph exclaimed, face twisting in glee. “No disrespecting! No standing in Sweetness’ way, ‘cause she’ll ice ya. No standing in my way, cause I’ll do worse! When we tell you to work, you’re gonna work. It might be hard, backbreaking work, but you’re gonna do it, and you’re gonna do it well. No yelling to any Fire Nation friends we might pass, okay? I’ll shut you up before you can even open your mouth.” (Zuko opened his mouth to speak; decided against it.) “You got it?”

He nodded. 

“He gets it,” Sokka told Toph. Ugh, dumbass, she’s blind. 

“Good,” said Toph, triumphantly. “Well, I'm hungry. Sokka, put him to work!” and she stomped below deck. 

Sokka and Zuko regarded each other for a moment, neither sure of what to do. “I'm gonna get my dad,” Sokka said eventually. “Don’t - don’t do anything. In fact, just - just come over here,” and he dragged Zuko to the railing. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” He ran off.

Agni, what as he thinking? This was so stupid, this was so stupid. I went there to defeat my sister, I think?? Am I an actual dumbass or what? Urgh, spirits. I don’t know what to do. He raised his head. There was barely anyone else on deck. Zuko glanced at the ocean below him: deep blue waves, the sun glinting off the horizon, glittering on the crest of the water. The sea didn’t seem too rough today. The shore must not be that far. His hands were in front of his body, his feet were still free… 

“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t try it.”

It was that warrior again, with the burned arm. Bato. Zuko stared into the Water Tribesman’s eyes. The Water Tribesman stared back. Zuko flipped over the edge. 

It was two, maybe three seconds of just wind through his ears, like the water was calling him - then the breath was knocked out of his lungs as his body slammed against the surface of the sea. He immediately started kicking, but suddenly he didn’t know where the surface was, or how deep he was, or where he was, or how hard swimming without the freedom of your hands was, and the sea was very cold, and his shackles were weighing him down, and he was trying to heat himself up but it didn’t seem to be working, and the waves were rougher than he thought, and his mother was waiting on the ocean floor for him. 

“Katara!” Sokka shrieked, skidding through the hall and into Aang’s chambers. Katara dropped her weird glowy magic water and turned on Sokka, her eyes hard. 

“What.”

“Katara -” Sokka gasped, “- Katara, Zuko just jumped overboard!”

“Tui and La,” she sighed, slowly standing and dusting off. 

“Katara, hurry!”

“You can swim, can’t you!”

“Yeah, but I’m not about to jump overboard when my lovely magical sister can do it for me!”

He pulled to the upper deck where the other crew members were milling around the railing, watching the waves, not particularly interested in rescuing the prince. 

“Did we vote on whether or not to save him?” Katara asked their dad, unimpressed. He gave her a look. 

“Katara.”

“Fine! Jeez, I’m going,” and she dove into the water. 

It must’ve been at least a minute of nothing before a torrent of water splashed onto the deck, carrying his sister and his prisoner. “Done,” Katara said simply, the water leaving her clothes and skin flawlessly. I wish I could do that, Sokka thought glumly. 

“Is he okay?” Toph asked, sounding unusually worried. Her character had taken on a lot more levels since this prisoner came into their custody, Sokka noticed. He regarded the Fire Nation prince - soaked, chilled, pale, not breathing -

“He’s not breathing,” Sokka realized. Katara sighed and put her hand on Zuko’s chest, slowly drawing it up against his neck and above his mouth. Zuko gasped, rolling to his side and hacking up seawater, then drew his knees close and shivered. 

“Hm,” said Katara, and headed back below deck. The other warriors followed suit, leaving just Bato, Sokka, Toph, and his dad. 

“What should we do with him?” Sokka faltered. 

“He probably got scared of all that work I threatened him with,” Toph reasoned, picking at her teeth. Zuko let out another feeble cough. 

“Get him back to his cabin and lock the door,” Hakoda said, rubbing his face. “I’ll put someone on watch. From now on, he doesn’t leave anyone’s sight.”

“Sorry,” Sokka said guiltily. Bato pat his shoulder. 

Zuko honestly didn’t mind it underneath the waves. Once he stopped struggling, the current was a sort of dark, peaceful lullaby lulling him to sleep, gently pleading with him to close his eyes. He did. It was… nice. The chill in his bones lessened. His head cleared. His mother was opening her arms, ready to embrace him, and he was happy to join her. 

When he woke up he was wet and cold and angry all over again. 

A masked Water Tribe warrior, probably only a few years older than him, was standing beside his bed. His arms were crossed and his face was hidden, his eyes barely glinting in the weak shadows. 

“My name’s Tunek,” he said. Zuko blinked. 

“Okay.”

“I’ll be your guard.”

Zuko nodded. 

“Once you’ve rested you’ll be put to work on this ship, earning your keep. If you’re gonna eat on this ship, sleep on this ship, or shit on this ship, you’re gonna work for it.” 

Zuko blinked. “I have to work… to shit?”

Tunek cleared his throat. “Disregard that. Do you understand?” Zuko nodded. “Good. I’ll - uh, I’ll be outside your door. We’ll begin in the morning. Don’t try anything.”

“Okay,” Zuko said again because he wasn’t really sure what else to say. Tunek nodded and closed the door behind him, leaving Zuko alone in the cabin. He tried stripping off his wet shirt to the best of his ability to put on the dry garments laid at his feet, but his head got stuck through the hole and his arms weren’t mobile enough to maneuver, so he decided to just let himself dry out, and let his mind linger on the day to come. 

Zuko wasn’t a stranger to hard labor. He’d be transferred to work camps for a few months at a time, like mini-vacations from Taosen’s prison (because even though the days were long and bitter Taosen was not there, and that was enough). Sometimes the smell of hot coal would make him gag, and he would remember - 

“What’d they send you here for?” someone asked him. Black dust was smeared around their eyelids like Water Tribe warpaint, and their cheeks were hollow and their arms were thin. Zuko shrugged. 

“I don’t know. I kind of get transferred around a lot.”

“Hm, important prisoner?”

“I guess.”

“You’ll be alright. First time at South Sekitan?”

“I was in the east for a few months but yeah, first time here. You?”

“Been here a few months. Never seen East Sekitan. Is it nicer?”

“I -”

“You!”

“Shit,” this somebody hissed, ducking behind a minecart and leaving Zuko alone with an oncoming burly guard. Zuko could see the veins in the guard’s arms and necks already bulging, his face red with glee at the sight of a disobeying prisoner. 

“What do you think you’re doing,” the guard growled, grabbing Zuko by his rags and dragging him to his toe-tips. 

“N-nothing,” Zuko stammered. The guard’s breath was hot and harsh against his skin. 

“Get back to work,” he sneered and threw Zuko back to the ground. He winced as his wrist twisted beneath his body against the hard rock. The moment he was gone Zuko stumbled to his feet and met the eyes of the other prisoner, who shrugged. 

“You gotta be more careful,” they said, and their voice was light and mocking, and full of laughter at Zuko’s ignorance. Something inside Zuko burned - burned to tell this somebody who he was, what he lost, what he’ll do to get it back, but he bit his tongue. Later, that prisoner would steal his rations and blame him for tripping a guard. Zuko couldn’t move for a week after that punishment. 

It still beat being with Taosen.

Chapter Text

Tunek had to admit, the Prince of the Fire Nation was anything but lazy. 

They moved the shackles from his hands to his feet to give his arms more mobility, gave him a mop and a bucket and put him to work as an ordinary seamen: swabbing the deck (even though they were on a metal deck -- just to give him something to do), scrapping hawk shit off the railings, removing rust, and sweeping seaweed or puddles off the side. He worked without complaint, or smack talk, and never looked Tunek in the eyes. Often, Tunek would see those three kids up in the crow’s nest, with the blind one hanging out below, watching Zuko labor on under the sun. Tunek suspected they were getting some joy out of it. His stomach turned a little at the thought, but then he was bringing Zuko down to scrub laundry, and the faces of the kids vanished from his mind. 

After the fifth hour of constant work and not even a peep from the boy, much less a request for a break, Tunek suggested they get something to eat from the mess hall (mainly because he was getting pretty famished himself). 

“I’m fine,” the Prince said, not taking his eyes off the basin. 

“Well, I can’t let you out of my sight, so you’re coming with me. Get up.” 

He trailed behind Tunek as they made their way through the winding, narrow hallways of the Fire Nation ship. Their infrastructure would always amaze Tunek, and not in the good way: what was the point of all these passages and rooms? Have the warriors all sleep in the same cabin, have a war room and a mess hall, and that’s all you need! He could practically hear the Prince internally mocking him as Tunek made the second wrong turn. 

It was high noon at the time, so most of the crewmen had already filled the mess hall for lunch. It was a wave of turning heads as the two entered. Tunek grabbed Zuko’s arm and pulled the boy closer to him - in order to assert authority, of course. 

“I’m not eating with him,” spat Monrak, rising from his seat. Others murmured in agreement. Tunek gulped. 

“Good thing I don’t wanna eat with you, either,” Zuko shot back. This was not taken well. 

“Back up, Monrak,” Tunek warned, despite Monrak being of higher authority. “I’m just here to get some grub. The prisoner is under my control.”

“He better be,” said Monrak, and it sounded a lot like a warning. 

Tunek grabbed a tray of cold, tough fish and they headed back out the mess hall. On the way back to the laundry room, Zuko hissed in his ear: 

“I don’t need your protection.”

Tunek whirled on the boy, pinning him down beneath his gaze. (Zuko’s eyes were golden and fierce. They also looked scared.) “Make no mistake,” Tunek whispered, “I am not protecting you. My Chief put me in this position to guard you - not to guard the others from you, but to keep you away from them . These are my people. You are our enemy. Get moving.” 

The laundry and deck work was growing so tedious that Zuko was tempted to just ask if he could shovel coal. Obviously not light it, because his bending was prohibited and he was certain Tunek or Bato would chop his hands off if they saw even a spark. After probably his sixth sigh of the hour, Tunek finally prodded his side with the end of his spear. 

“What’s the matter,” he asked flatly. “Not used to hard work?”

Zuko stumbled past another dead body, practically already bones. His stomach howled and his fingers cramped around the hilt of his pickaxe, but he kept walking, and he didn’t stop until he made it to his mine, where he didn’t stop swinging.

 Zuko turned to glare at him. “Anyone can do this. Don’t you want me to do something else, like shoveling coal?” 

Tunek seemed taken back. “You - you want to shovel coal?”

“Beats scrubbing dirty Water Tribe laundry.” He shouldn’t have said that. Tunek poked him harder but replied. 

“Sure, if you really want to stick yourself in that hot-ass boiler - hold on. Nope, you’re not gonna trick me like that. You’re not getting anywhere near the coal, or the boiler room for that matter, not if I want to blast us all to La.” 

Zuko rolled his eyes. “Well, I wasn't thinking of that, but yeah, thanks for giving me an idea.” He smirked at Tunek’s hushed curse. 

“You’re staying on laundry and deck duty,” Tunek announced. “That’s final.” 

“Whatever.”

He didn’t eat anything the first day, or the second day, or the third day. He drank handfuls of water from his bucket when Tunek wasn’t looking, and he rummaged around the seaweed for shrimp or small fish caught in the fray, but by the fourth day, he fell to his knees and retched bile. Taosen laughed beside him.

“Weak boy,” he sneered.

“C’mon,” Tunek said, pulling him by the back of his shirt down below deck and to the mess hall. Zuko stumbled along numbly. He was given a bowl of steaming rice and fish, and a cup of cold jasmine tea on the side. Tunek sat him down right in the middle of the mess hall, where he was subject to staring, blue eyes. 

“Hey Tunek, you’re working that kid to the bone,” one of the warriors laughed. Zuko bristled. 

“I’m not a kid,” he shot back. Tunek grabbed his shoulder. Another warrior rose to his feet. 

“Don’t you talk back to us,” he said. Zuko clenched his fist. Never take on the big guys. Not one to quit. …Never go down without a fight. 

“Watch it, Monrak,” said Tunek, his voice low and hushed. Monrak didn’t sit back down. Zuko’s fist didn’t unclench. The jasmine tea was bitter in his throat. Everyone else was silent. Just then, laughter washed through the open door, and the Avatar’s friends came sauntering in. 

“Hi, Monrak!” called Sokka with a wave. He halted at the sight of Zuko. So did Katara, and the blind girl - Toph. Taosen smirked at the comicality of the situation. 

“Tunek,” Katara said, her voice edged with malice. “What is he doing down in the mess hall?”

“He hasn’t had anything to eat in three days,” Tunek responded levelly. 

“He can eat in his cell.”

“It’s not even a cell,” Zuko muttered. Katara let out a short, hot laugh. 

“Like you would know.”

He looked into her eyes - looked hard and good, and for some reason wished that she could see into his. He could’ve sworn that he saw her falter, if just for a moment. 

It was the blind girl who broke the tension. She yawned loudly, pushed to the front of the line to grab a tray, and plopped down right next to Zuko at the table. He nearly choked. So did Monrak. So did Tunek, Sokka, and Katara.

“Toph!” Sokka hissed, shielding his mouth from the other side of the mess hall as if they couldn’t hear him, “Don’t fraternize with the prisoner!” 

“You guys are just a bunch of pussies,” she said loudly. “He’s harmless.” And she downed the rest of his jasmine tea. “Mm. Not as good as Uncle’s.” The chatter of the mess hall had returned to normal.

“Unc-uncle?” he stammered. She grinned. 

“Yeah! General Iroh.” 

“You know Uncle?”

“He served me tea once. Gave me some really good advice. He said -” she tilted her head, remembering. “He said he was looking for you.”

Zuko moved his shaking hand beneath the table.

“He was looking for me?” he asked quietly. She nodded. 

Fuck. Fuck, Uncle really did care. Fuck. Zuko left him there, left him in those catacombs, left him at Azula’s mercy after Iroh had embraced him, loved him, looked for him. Oh, Agni. He betrayed his Uncle. He left his Uncle to die, to be imprisoned just as he was, to be tortured at the hands of Taosen, disgraced by his own brother, and Zuko had just let it all happen - let the water whisk him away into the sky as he watched the Dai Li force him to the ground -

“Whoa, Sparky, calm down,” Toph said, her voice mixed with a chuckle edged in concern. “Whatever you think you did to him - Uncle, he - he’ll forgive you. I promise.”

Zuko’s head swiveled to face her. Here was this little girl who probably spent less than a day with Iroh, comforting him on what his Uncle may or may not do -

“Really?” His voice was barely a whisper. She nodded again, and under the table, he felt her fingers brush his trembling own, and in that moment, he could feel the Earth spirit’s heart holding him down, wrapping him in a blanket of substance, cool earth soothing his beating heart. Maybe Toph felt it, too. Maybe she felt Agni’s rays through the cursed Prince’s hands. Either way, she held on for a few more moments, until they both pulled away as Sokka grabbed her to sit somewhere else. 

“Toph’s a good kid,” Tunek noted, shoveling in rice and speaking between mouthfuls. “Scary as shit, and powerful, but I think she means well.” 

“Yeah,” Zuko mumbled. 

It came to Zuko’s attention that there were messenger hawks aboard this ship, and no one onboard was a licensed hawk handler. 

“What have you been doing with them?” he practically screeched at Tunek, whose hand moved to rest on the hilt of his bone dagger. Zuko pretended not to notice. 

“Well,” Tunek began, “There’s bird feed in the cargo hold, but no one really left any instructions, so -”

“Take me to them,” Zuko demanded. Tunek’s eyes narrowed. “Please,” Zuko amended. 

“What do you know about caring for hawks?” Tunek asked as they made their way to the hold. 

“I had one when I was younger,” Zuko said roughly. Sunny. The edges of his mouth quivered in a smile.

“They let you care for a pet?”

The false smile deepened into a scowl. “They let you be a guard?” he snapped. “I’m not an animal abuser,” he continued, choosing to ignore the one time he sought to be like Azula. “Agni above, we’re not savages.”

“Agree to disagree.”

Zuko scoffed. 

He smelled the aviary before he saw it, and heard the squawking before he could even approach the door. “Have you guys even cleaned their nests?” he growled, not even waiting for Tunek to open the door for him. Upon entering he stumbled back as the wall of putrid bird shit smells passed through them both. 

“Oh, Tui and La, it smells like shit!” 

“That’s because it is shit.” 

The six messenger hawks were each cramped in their cages, picking madly at their feathers and stamping along their perches. Zuko moved to unlock the cage closer to him and brought the hawk close to his chest. 

“What have they been doing to you,” he murmured, running his finger down its back. “Poor you. I’ll fix this in no time, little one, don’t worry.”

He heard a snicker. 

“What,” he snapped, glaring at Tunek. His guard shrugged. 

“Sorry, I just - you look very silly.”

“Someone who cares for their crew isn’t silly.”

“I - crew?”

“Messenger hawks are workers. They deserve to be treated as such. Here, help me unlock the rest of the cages. They need to stretch their wings. We’ll have them fly to the mainland and return. Meanwhile, I can clean up this mess.”

“How do I know you won’t just send a message to someone in the Fire Navy?”

Agni, Zuko knew he was stupid, but Tunek was dumb on a different level. 

“Then just make sure I don’t attach anything to their capsules,” he hissed. Tunek shifted. 

“Right,” he said, stupidly. 

This is how Zuko became the unofficial caretaker of the aviary: cleaning their cages, watering them, feeding them, taking them out for exercise (because it’s not like the Water Tribesmen had anywhere to send letters to). He, for the most part, ignored the snickerings behind his back, or the amused glances Tunek spared him. His new job position did not spare him from his other labor endeavors, however, as he continued to remove rust and bird shit, and scrub laundry in freezing water that he wasn’t allowed to heat up. For the most part, the days blended together in a cascading wave of gray, cold metal and empty red and blue-spirited warriors. 

Then he was washing the deck and was slowly moving towards where Hakoda and Monrak were speaking quietly and quickly. He didn't mean to eavesdrop, just like how he didn’t mean to mistake a fellow prisoners’ extra rations for his own, and they were looking out to see - completely unaware of his slow approach. 

“The brat’s valuable,” Monrak was saying, his voice a hiss under his breath. “Prince of the Fire Nation, and what are we doing? Making him clean bird shit? This could get us some real leverage.”

“If we alert the Fire Nation that we have the Prince in custody on our ship, they won’t 

rest to find him,” Hakoda replied warily. 

“But they’ll be looking for a Water Tribe fleet, not a Fire Nation! The Prince for some reclaimed territory in the Earth Kingdom, or occupation of the southern waters. We could get a supply line back up and running! Don’t you see, Hakoda? Use him to our advantage!” 

Zuko’s throat was dry. He couldn’t swallow. His chest was tight. He couldn’t breathe. No. No. No. No. 

“You can’t do that!” he blurted and dragged his chained feet to the two warriors before Tunek could stop him. They both whirled on him. “You can tell my father that you have me,” he said, disgusted at his pleading tone. “It won’t - it won’t work. You’ll just make yourself a target. They’ll track the messenger hawks. They won’t let you ransom me. I - please. My sister already knows that I’m with the Avatar.”

“How dare you speak like that to our Chief?” Monrak roared, stepping forward with clenched fists. Zuko trembled. 

“He’s not my Chief.”

“Stand down, Monrak,” said Hakoda, his voice level. He studied Zuko closely. “You don’t want to return to your father?” he asked slowly. Zuko blushed and looked down. 

“No, I just -”

“You don’t think he’ll take you back?”

“No, of course, he wants me!” Zuko snapped. Damn. That’s not what he asked. “I just - you’ll make things worse for yourself.”

“Why do you care?” Monrak growled. Zuko met his gaze. What’s another enemy. 

“I told you. I want to help the Avatar. And it won’t help anyone if you tell my father you have me. Besides, you’ll have to make the trade-off, and they won’t let you go free, especially since you’re in a Fire Navy ship. Trust me. My father does not negotiate. He does not ransom.”

“You brat,” Monrak leered. “You’re in no position to tell the Chief how we win this war.”

“It’s okay, Monrak,” said Hakoda, holding his arm out to stop the warrior from advancing. He regarded Zuko carefully. “You truly believe this?”

“I do.”

“Very well. I will consider your input.”

Hakoda headed below deck, Monrak behind him. The latter brushed against Zuko’s shoulder and Zuko felt his cold hand grab his wrist. 

“If we can’t use you,” he whispered, “You might as well be dead to us. Don’t disrespect the Chief again. Or me. ”  

“I can do what I want,” Zuko shot back. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

Monrak grinned. 

“Good luck with that,” he said.

Chapter Text

It happened that night. 

Zuko should’ve known better. He’s learned enough ‘lessons’ from his time in prison to know better than to antagonize someone who was technically his superior, even if that someone meant fuck all in the grand scheme of things. It was only fair, he supposed, only right for something terrible to happen in custody, no matter whose custody he’s in.

When he woke up, he instinctively knew in his bones that the sun had not risen and that it must be something else stirring him from his sleep. 

It was. 

In the darkness of the cabin, he felt Monrak’s presence sitting on the bunk across from him. Tunek was slumped on the ground. He was breathing. (Good, Zuko thought, that the Water Tribe has enough sense to not kill one of their own.)

“Hello Prince,” Monrak said calmly. The lamp flared to life. A golden pool reflected the bottom half of the warrior’s face, keeping his eyes in shadows. Zuko swallowed. 

“What do you want.”

“I told you,” Monrak mused, “what you are worth to us. Do you need a reminder?” He leaned forward. “If your own father doesn’t want you,” and his voice was low and dripping with malice and contempt, “then why should we?”

“I just wanted to help,” Zuko choked out. “The Chief - Hakoda will never let you get away with this.”

“When did you ever listen to the Chief?” Monrak snarled. He leaned back with a smirk. “Besides, how do you know that I’m not here on Hakoda’s orders?”

“You knocked out Tunek.”

“He was growing fond of you,” he drawled. “Couldn’t risk him infiltrating the plan.”

“I don’t believe you,” Zuko said. “Hakoda wouldn’t do this,” and he hated how his voice fell through in a whimper. Monrak heard it too. 

“You don’t have to believe me,” he said. He withdrew a key and separated Zuko’s arms from the bedpost while keeping them chained. “Follow me,” he leered. Zuko didn’t get a chance; he was already being dragged through the hall. 

The moon was bright and full and beautiful above the ship. Its presence filled the spaces of would-be darkness with pale, milky pools of light, and Zuko was almost comforted that it would be the last thing he would see. 

“Tui and La,” called Monrak, his voice lost in the vastness of the ocean. He forced Zuko to his knees and raised his arms to the sky. “I offer you this Fire Prince for your blessings. Look upon me, spirit of the moon, as I carry out your will against your treacherous brother!” Something stabbed Zuko, deep in the gut, a sharp pang of anger. He shook his head wildly. No, no, this is all wrong - the sister and her husband would never betray Agni, they must work together in balance, none of this is right, he won’t die for the moon, if he will die -- if he will die, he will die for Agni. 

“No,” he mumbled. Monrak turned his head. 

“What did you say, Prince?” he barked. 

“This is wrong,” Zuko voiced, struggling to stand. “You can’t - you can’t kill me like this!” 

Monrak withdrew his bone dagger. “I’ll do what I like.”

Some distant teachings stirred in his gut, strange half-memories of his uncle holding a flame in his hands. Breathe in. Your power is weakest when the moon is at its highest. True power must always come from the breath. 

Zuko released a sputtering lick of flames as Monrak drew closer, thrashing on his knees. Monrak dodged easily and kicked Zuko in the back. “No firebending,” he tsked. Zuko felt a thick fabric being wrapped around his mouth, choking his words before they could be said. He cried out. His screams were merely muffled grunts. 

Monrak laughed at the chaos and reached for Zuko, bringing him up to his eye level. “Foolish boy,” he sneered. You’re the foolish one, thought Zuko, and slammed his head against Monrak. A grunt erupted from the warrior and he stumbled back, dropping his bone dagger. Zuko desperately kicked it away and tried to make a beeline for - well, anywhere but where he was. 

“Not so fast!” Monrak cackled and grabbed Zuko by the back of his shirt, yanking him backward onto the deck. Zuko barely registered the first kick to his stomach, but he definitely felt the next one to his face, and the subsequent slamming of his body onto the side of the rail and tossing of his body aside. “You’re making this harder on yourself,” mocked Monrak. “Oh, well. This is more fun!”

Never give up without a fight. Never give up without a fight. Never give up without a fight. 

I’m sorry uncle, Zuko mourned, I can’t do it anymore. 

No, Prince Zuko. You are blood of Agni’s blood. You will not be defeated this way.

You will not be defeated this way. 

With the last of his strength, Zuko flipped his body upwards, sweeping his legs out from under Monrak and streaming fire from his feet. Monrak screamed. The smell of burnt flesh was all too familiar. 

Zuko stumbled back, dry heaving onto the deck. Monrak rose as well, somehow having recovered his dagger and hobbling on one leg. 

“You’ll pay for that,’ he rasped, taking a swipe at Zuko’s chest. In dodging it Zuko fell to the ground and let out a gasp as his face slammed against the deck.  

Think. Think! 

Toph! Zuko plead, pressing the side of his cheek and neck into the metal ground. Toph, if you can hear my heartbeat, or whatever, however, you do this shit - please, please! 

As if he could hear Zuko’s thoughts, Monrak laughed gleefully. “No one can help you now, Fire scum!”

“Don’t forget about me!” 

If his ribs weren’t aching and his lungs weren’t constricted with terror and pain, Zuko would’ve let out a sigh of relief. The Water Tribe warrior didn’t last five seconds against the little 12-year-old metalbender. He felt her run up to his side and tenderly roll him onto his back, tearing his gag out and bending the metal shackles off his wrists. 

“I heard you,” she said softly. “I’m going to get Katara. I’m -”

“S’okay,” he groaned, breathless, because he felt like that’s what she needed to hear. She nodded and fled below deck. 

The moon was still glowing above him, nearly as blinding as the sun. If he listened really closely, against the silence and the quiet murmuring of the waves, there was a lady in the moon, singing a lullaby to him. She sounded like mother, and the lullaby was so sweet and soft and pleasant, like the feeling of mother’s robes enveloping him in a hug, that Zuko allowed himself to slip into sleep. 

The first thing Sokka noticed while taking in the scene was Monrak wrapped in warped metal, unconscious. The second thing he noticed was the limp form of the Fire Prince, a sight Sokka was becoming all-too-familiar with, his chest heaving with every breath. The moon was so bright it illuminated the dark blood streaming from his nose and a cut on his cheek. Katara was already hovering over him, her posture stiff in annoyance from being woken up, but focused. Toph fret around them, stomping bits of metal out of the ground, molding them into whatever, and then smoothing them back into the deck. His father and Bato dragged themselves out from below deck, a couple of warriors straggling after them. 

“What the hell just happened?” his dad questioned.

“Your boy,” Toph snapped, “tried to kill Zuko.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Hakoda replied easily. Toph grinned. 

“Well, let’s just ask Monrak then!” and with a stomp Monrak was released from his metal bounds and shoved forward by a warped boot, knocking him awake. Sokka winced at the sight of his torched pants. Toph didn’t waste any time. 

“What were you doing to Zuko?”

“He - he was attacking me! He burned me!”

“Lie! You were attacking him! He was defending himself!”

“Toph, let him explain,” Sokka said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off. 

“Fine,” she spat. Monrak shakily turned to Sokka’s father. 

“You don’t understand,” he pleaded. “This boy - he will destroy us all! He is a danger! I was only trying to protect us!” he lowered his head. “I was only trying to protect the Avatar.”

“Truth,” said Toph, and her voice was rough and unfeeling. 

“So you admit to disobeying my orders.” Hakoda narrowed his eyes. “And lying to me. And attacking our prisoner.”

Monrak slowly nodded. Bato scoffed. “Please,” Monrak blubbered, “He - he burned me!”

“He had every right to defend himself,” said his father. “We will see to your injuries at daybreak.” 

And just then, the disgraced Prince of the Fire Nation shot forward with a startled yell. 

In his dreams, there was the sun, and the moon, and the ocean. He saw a vast, grassy field, the wind rippling through the pasture like a song. There were dark and light figures playing together around a Pai Sho table. He saw an old man with long white hair dressed in red Fire Nation robes, beckoning him closer. 

“See,” said the old man, “See the righteous and the wrong in the world. Make your decision.”

He saw a water-logged doll stuck in the reeds along a shoreline. There was a hand sticking out of the water, limp. He saw forests blazing. He saw villages bowing down to a death of fire. He saw the Air Nomad children, all without tattoos, screaming at the hands of his great grand-father. He saw Earth Kingdom refugees taking back their homes, and he saw a morsel of food being offered to an orphan. He saw his Agni Kai and the spectators that grinned at his terror. He saw a whole division of young men burning in their own flames. He saw the earthbending prisoners inspired by the words of a Water Tribe girl. He saw a boy with crazed eyes and wild hair finally dying for what’s right. 

He woke up.

The first thing Zuko said once he was on his feet was, 

“I’m going to help you defeat my father. That is my destiny.”

“Truth,” said Toph, with great confidence. Her voice was brimming with pride. 

Zuko turned to Hakoda. “Is Tunek okay?” he asked. Hakoda nodded. “Good. Um, I’d prefer if I wasn’t kept a prisoner,” he said. Sokka’s eyes widened, but his father only bowed his head. 

“You’re a traitor, Hakoda!” Monrak snarled, spit dribbling from his mouth from his pathetic position on the ground. “He is - he is cursed! Look at him! He is Fire Nation! He will - he’s a monster!”

Zuko turned to Monrak, leaning heavily on one leg. “I am the Prince of the Fire Nation,” he said slowly, coldly. “I am not cursed.” Monrak did not respond. The Prince then looked to Katara, who seemed to be still in shock in the rest of them. “Thank you for healing me… again. I’ll try not to keep getting injured.” 

Katara opened her mouth, closed it. Waited a moment. Then, “If Toph says you’re telling the truth, then you’re telling the truth. Thank you for offering your help to the Avatar.” And she put her arm forward. Zuko grasped it in traditional Water Tribe solidarity. What Sokka did not hear, however, was Katara leaning in and whispering, “I still don’t trust you. Anywho do are fools. You’re still Fire Nation. You’re still your father’s son and your sister’s brother. If you make one wrong move, if you hurt Aang, I’ll make sure your destiny ends, right there, right then. Permanently.”

The former Freedom fighters joined up a week later and with them, came the news that the Avatar was dead. (Zuko let himself smile at the joyful shock exuberated by the ex-Freedom Fighters when they found out he was actually alive. His smile faded when they indignantly refused to speak to Zuko. He was a child of Agni, after all. Cursed with fire.)

(I am the Prince of the Fire Nation. I am not cursed.)

(But why do my bones ache? Why does my blood boil?)

Zuko’s duties didn’t change much, only that he was no longer shackled, and this time Tunek was made to help him. 

“I don’t understand how you can handle these little shits,” Tunek grumbled, snatching his hand back from one of the messenger hawk’s wandering beak. 

“I had one when I was a kid,” Zuko said softly, running his finger down the back of the hawk perched on his arm. “I like to play in the Aviary. My sister hated going in, so I could win hide-and-explode if I hid there.”

Tunek bit his lip. “In the Royal Palace, right?”

Zuko frowned. “Yeah.” He returned the hawk to its cage. “C’mon. I can hear your stomach growling.” 

A few days later, the Avatar woke up. The ocean stirred. The moon sang. The sun sank into the horizon, into the sea. The ship erupted in chaos. 

When the Avatar emerged, Zuko was scrubbing the railings with Tunek. 

“Everything we do has bird shit involved,” Tunek complained. “Bird shit on the deck, bird shit on the rails, bird shit in the birdcages - shit!” His eyes were wide and he stood in shock, staring at something behind Zuko. He turned. 

“Twinkle Toes! That’s got to be you!”

“Aang, you’re awake!”

“The Avatar has woken up,” said Tunek, almost solemnly. 

“I feel like I’m dreaming,” said the Avatar, rubbing his eyes and staring at the entourage of seemingly Fire Nation guards surrounding him. He had a puff of dark hair blooming from his once-bald head. Katara wrapped her arms around him. 

“You’re not dreaming. You’re finally awake.”

Sokka joined in. “Aang, good to see you back with the living, buddy!”

“Sokka?”

“He doesn’t look so good,” Tunek noted, and as if on cue, the Avatar collapsed. 

While the Avatar’s friends gathered around him, Zuko hung back a bit, choosing to rest against Appa. The beast seemed to like his campfire scent. He let his head hang low, not so keen with the idea of the Avatar greeting him exuberantly. Or, attacking him. 

“Why are we on a Fire Nation ship?” asked the Avatar, his voice strained with worry. “Why is everyone dressed this way? And why am I the only one who’s completely out of it?”

“You need to take it easy, okay? You got hurt pretty bad. I like your hair.”

“I have hair?”

The chief approached them then, and Zuko turned away from the conversation. 

A hand clapped him hard on the back, startling him. 

“How are you feeling, big guy?”

Sokka. “Uh, fine, thanks? uh, how are you?”

“Oh, I’m alright, I’m alright,” Sokka sighed. He joined Zuko against Appa. “It’s a big relief Aang woke up. Between you and me, it was pretty touch and go for a while.”

“Uh, yeah.”

Sokka was quiet for a moment. Then, “C’mon, I’m starved. I think we have some seal jerky stored up.” 

“I’m not hungry.”

Sokka let out a sigh. His shoulders sagged. “Whatever man,” he muttered. “Do what you want.”

So Zuko headed back to his cabin. 

Only he and Tunek slept there, leaving two beds open, but it was an unspoken agreement throughout the crew that no one wanted to sleep beside an ashmaker, even if the other cabins were stuffy and full. He gently placed the oil lamp on the ground in front of him and knelt onto the cold metal, hands on his thighs. In. Out. Push. Pull. The little flame rose and fell. 

“Do you remember when your sister mastered this technique with five candles at age 10?” his father asked. 

“Yes,” Zuko said stiffly. He closed his eyes.  

“She was always a prodigy,” Ozai continued. “Gifted with her great grandfather’s abilities. She will bring our Nation to victory. I am so proud of her.”

“I know.”

“It’s a shame you had to leave. With proper discipline, perhaps you could’ve caught up.”

You’ll never catch up. 

“ You sent me away,” Zuko growled. His eyelids began to ache; he was straining to keep himself in darkness. 

“Why, that wasn’t my fault,” Ozai mused. “I had to do it.”

“You sent me away,” Zuko repeated, his tongue bitter. 

“You disobeyed and disrespected me.”

“You told the court I tried to kill you!”

“I had to teach you respect,” his father hissed. “Obviously my lesson didn’t catch on. Open your eyes, Prince Zuko. Listen well.”

“No,” Zuko choked out, bringing his head to his chest. “No. Get-get away from me.”

“Zuko?”

Tunek. Zuko’s eyes snapped open and he scrambled to his feet. There was no one else in the cabin. Tunek was gripping the edge of the door, peering in. “Everyone’s back on deck,” he said. “Do you - don’t you wanna meet the Avatar?”

“We’ve met,” Zuko said dryly, but he put the lamp back onto the small table and followed Tunek out. 

“We’ve been working on a modified version of the invasion plan,” Hakoda was saying. Katara hit her father’s arm when she saw Zuko coming up from below deck and the chief shut up abruptly, turning to Zuko. They’d been careful not to share anything with him as if they’d even listen to his input. The Avatar looked up from the map. His eyes widened.

“You!” he chirped. His voice was annoyingly gleeful. Zuko bowed his head.

“Uh, hello, Avatar. I’m Zuko.”

“Oh, you can call me Aang. It’s good to see you again! You know, I’ve never thanked you -”

“Aang, what are you talking about?” Sokka butt in, grabbing the edge of the Avatar’s robe. Zuko swallowed. 

“Oh, right. Uh, remember when you guys got really sick and I made you suck on frozen frogs?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“It’s not important,” Zuko snapped. Aang blinked. 

“Right,” he said slyly, with a hidden grin. 

“Anyways, Aang, the invasion plan?” Hakoda said. Aang nodded. Sokka looked to Zuko. 

“Oh, uh, sorry buddy,” he said slowly. Zuko nodded. 

“Yeah.” He moved to leave again until the Avatar sputtered out his defense. 

“What? Why can’t he hear this, too? He’s on our side, isn’t he?”

“Well yeah,” Sokka replied cautiously, “But, I mean… He’s Fire Nation.”

“The Fire Nation prince,” Katara added, crossing her arms. Aang scowled. 

“What about it? Gyatso told me that everyone deserves a chance, even those we deem our enemy! Besides, he said he’s with us, right? And Toph believes him?”

“I do.”

“So? I say let him listen in! He knows about the Fire Nation!”

Hakoda looked expectedly to Zuko. 

“I do know a lot about the Fire Nation,” Zuko said meekly. Aang smiled. 

“Fine,” Sokka said, scooching over. “Grab a seat.”

“Anyways,” Hakoda began, “We can’t mount a massive invasion force without the Earth Kingdom’s armies, but the solar eclipse will still make the Fire Nation vulnerable.”

“Sorry, the solar eclipse?”

“The Day of the Black Sun,” Sokka explained. “Heard of it?”

Zuko’s stomach dropped. Tales of a day without Agni’s rays, firebenders collapsing without their chi source, cries of agony as Fire Nation citizens grew depleted of their sun spirit. 

“Yes,” he squeaked. “I thought that was just a tale.”

Sokka shook his head. “Nope. It’s real, and it’s happening for eight minutes. We plan to invade the Fire Nation with a small force, just our friends and allies, to get Aang to the Caldera, where he can face your fa- where he can face the Fire Lord without his firebending.” 

Sounded reasonable enough. 

“We already ran into Pipsqueak and the Duke!”

“Good to see you, Aang!”

“And the best part is, the eclipse isn’t even our biggest advantage!” Sokka leaned in and lowered his voice. “We have a secret… you!”

“Me?”

“Yep, the whole world thinks you’re dead! Isn’t that great?”

Zuko suspected Aang had a similar reaction that Zuko had when he discovered the court was told he tried to assassinate his father. Of course, he wasn’t the Avatar, nor was he supposed to be the beacon of hope for the world, so he didn’t find it that shocking when Aang stumbled back in shock. 

“The world thinks I’m dead? How is that good news? That’s terrible!”

Sokka approached him. “No, it’s great! It means the Fire Nation won’t be hunting us anymore! And even better, they won’t be expecting you on the Day of Black Sun!” 

The Avatar clutched his head, shaking it back and forth. “No, no, no, no, no. You have no idea. This is - this is so messed up!”

A puff of smoke and steam traveled over the horizon and into Zuko’s eyesight. 

“Incoming,” he said, rising to his feet. 

“I’ll handle this. The Avatar is back.” He grunted in pain as he opened his glider. 

“Don’t be a dumbass,” Zuko snapped. Katara stepped forward. 

“Aang, wait! Remember, they don’t know we’re not Fire Nation!”

“Everyone just stay calm,” Hakoda said, holding his hands out. “Bato and I will take care of this.”

“Let me help,” Zuko insisted. Hakoda nodded. Zuko hastily slipped his hair into a loose topknot and straightened his back, letting his muscles call back to the time in a royal court. 

The Fire Navy officers crossed the ramp and boarded their ship. “Commander,” called one of them, “Why are you off course? All Western Fleet ships are supposed to be moving to Ba Sing Se to support the occupation!”

“Actually, we’re from the Eastern Fleet. We have orders to deliver some cargo.”

“Orders from whom?” the officer demanded. Zuko stepped forward. 

“From me,” he glowered. “Your commanding prince.” 

The officers’ mouths gaped open and they dropped to the floor. “I - my Prince! Prince Zuko! You’ve been gone so long!”

“Well, I’m back, and I’m the commander of this ship. Continue on your way, gentlemen.”

The officers nodded hurriedly. “Of course, my prince,” their Captain stammered, keeping his head down. “Apologies for the trouble.” And they walked back onto their ramp. 

Zuko turned away, satisfied, until his head tilted to where one of the officers was not-so-inconspicuously informing the captain, “Sir, we received a messenger hawk this morning. The prince has been declared a traitor and is wanted dead or alive.”

Zuko bristled. 

“What? Why doesn’t anyone ever tell me anything? This crew is in league with a traitor! Just stay quiet until we’re across the ramp. Then we’ll sink this ship.”

Toph emerged before Zuko could speak up. 

“They know!” and the bridge collapsed into the sea, sending the officers screaming into the churning water. A massive wave pushed the other ship from theirs and they sped off, Katara using the current as a propeller. 

“Way to go,” she hissed at Zuko. He scowled. 

“It’s not my fault! I didn’t know I’m a traitor!” 

“Stop arguing, you sissies, let’s move!” Toph shouted, letting the Duke position her to knock fireballs from the sky. Zuko took a stance beside her to catch any falling flames and extinguishing debris falling to the deck. Suddenly the ship itself rumbled and halted, rocking Zuko’s form. 

“A harpoon!” he shouted. Katara quickly froze the hole, but their ship was still stalled. 

“I’m gonna give us some cover!” she yelled, lifting her arms and with it, vapor from the seawater to create a fog screen. 

“Watch it!” Zuko crowed as a fireball came blasting through the mist, surprising the earthbender as it scattered her rocks and blasted her back. He grabbed the back of her cloak and yanked her backward away from the wreckage, then raised his hands to douse the flames when a splash of water beat him to it. “I had that,” he snapped to Katara. She glared at him. Two more fireballs ravaged the deck, dangerously close to Toph. 

“Stop yanking me!” she yelped, as he did so.

“You’re gonna get burned!”

“I thought you had it,” Katara snapped, using her own water to extinguish the spreading fire. 

“Forgive me for looking out for your friend,” he growled back, painfully aware his fists were heating up. Katara saw it too. Her eyes hardened further and she turned away, shaking her head as if, of course, the firebender loses control.

“How we doing?” Toph cried out against the wind. 

“Not good,” Zuko replied gravely.

“Terrible!” Sokka corrected, running up to them. “It couldn’t get much worse!”

Because the spirits hated Zuko and loved to play tricks on him, both in his dreams and in his reality, just then a great serpent rose from the churning sea beside their ship. “Oh, fuck! The universe hates me!”

“You make it too easy!” Toph cackled. 

“Wait, don’t attack!” Zuko shouted, “Just wait! It’ll go after whoever hits it first.” And true to his word, a fireball from the opposing ship scorched the serpent’s neck. It unleashed a furious yowl and wrapped itself around the Fire Nation ship, slowly crushing it to pieces. The Water Tribe’s captured ship sped away, and Zuko turned his head to the screams of his people drowning to the sea.

“Good work, Team Avatar!” Sokka said, clapping loudly. “Nice work all around!”

“You didn’t even do anything,” Toph grumbled, punching him in the arm as she passed. 

“Ow! And yes, I was restraining Aang from being a dumbass and doing something stupid!”

“I’m going back to my cabin,” Zuko muttered, brushing past the Water Tribe boy. 

“Oh, uh, Zuko?” Sokka blurted, his voice meek. Zuko halted. “We’re coming up on a port soon, and I was thinking we could all grab some dinner in town, y’know? Cold ship fish is good and all, but… Anyways, just wondering if you wanted to come with us.”

Zuko blinked. “Uh, yeah, maybe. I guess.”

“Great! Okay, see you later!”

“See you later,” Zuko grunted. 

They came to collect him not so later when the ship slowly slid into a port and the sun sank beneath the horizon. Zuko begrudgingly followed Toph, Sokka, and Katara to the Avatar’s - to Aang’s chamber. Toph entered first, Zuko hung behind. 

“Hey, Aang! We’re heading into town for dinner. You wanna come with?”

Aang stood with a small smile. “Well, I am pretty hungry.”

Sokka stepped forward and presented a headband. “Here. Tie this around your head, it’ll cover your arrow.”

Aang’s face suddenly contorted in anger and he turned away. “I’m not going out if I can’t wear my arrow proudly!” 

“Oh, Agni,” Zuko groaned, pressing his face into his hand. 

“C’mon Aang, be practical!” Sokka whined. Katara put her hand on his shoulder and made her way inside. 

“You guys go ahead without us,” she said, nodding at them. “We’ll catch up later.”

“Whatever,” Toph grunted, and grabbed Zuko’s hand, pulling him down the hall. “Holy shit, you’re warm!” 

“Really?” Sokka echoed, grasping onto Zuko’s other arm. “Wow! Finally, a good thing firebenders are worth for!”

“Hey,” Zuko complained, face reddening. “We’re good for other stuff, too! We can… light fires!”

“How surprising,” Toph replied dryly. 

“It’s not like earthbenders can do anything else besides moving rocks,” Zuko muttered. Sokka spit out a laugh. 

“He’s not wrong!” 

Toph sputtered out her reply. “That’s - we build your stone buildings!” 

“You build stone buildings in the Earth Kingdom,” Zuko corrected. “As far as I’m aware, the Fire Nation has its own architects.”

“Seems like the Earth Kingdom wouldn’t have anything going for them without their bending,” Sokka mused cheekily. Toph punched him. “Ow!”

They emerged onto the upper deck. Hakoda and Bato both greeted them, raising eyebrows. “You three are headed into town?”

Sokka rubbed his stomach. “Oh, yeah. This baby’s starving.” Hakoda smiled and tossed his son a cloth bag jingling with coins. Zuko scoffed in amusement as Sokka’s face lighting up. 

“Be careful,” Bato said, stepping in. He glanced at Zuko. “Are you sure you’re not recognizable?”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” Zuko mumbled, looking down. 

“Well, we’ll find out soon enough,” Toph said, a grin in her voice. She jerked her head in the direction of the port. “Let’s get going!” 

Zuko lingered at the edge of the dock, staring out into the glittering marketplace of reds, golds, and oranges. He bit his lip and rocked on the balls of his feet, back and forth. 

“You good?” Sokka asked quietly. 

“Yeah,” Zuko breathed out. He wanted to tell him so badly, tell him about how it’s been so long since he’s been in one of these - the marketplace from his prison island not counting - surrounded by his people, never looking over his shoulder, heart and belly full with comfort food that was never able to scorch his tongue. But Toph dragged him onto shore before he said anything, and suddenly he was there, in the middle of it, his people moving and bustling around him, the smell of ripe meat on a grill in the air, lanterns hanging from stalls and gently walking in the warm, tropical wind. He smiled, and it felt good. 

Sokka was quite adamant about trying fire flakes while Toph interrogated Zuko on the non-spicy cuisine available. “Fried squid is good,” he offered. “And ash banana bread is tasty, not spicy at all unless you ask for fire flakes baked in.”

“Baked in?” Sokka shrieked, his hand stuffed into his bag of fire flakes. “Who would want their ash banana bread to be spicy?”

“Fire Nation people,” Zuko said wryly. Sokka hmphed and shoved a handful of fire flakes into his mouth. His cheeks instantly reddened and his eyes grew watery. 

“Oh, thas hot,” he mumbled and offered the bag toward Zuko. “You want some?”

He tried to hide his surprise as best he could but blushed when Sokka assured him he wasn’t gonna bite the boy. “Sure,” he uttered and tossed a couple of flakes into his mouth. Damn, that was good. 

“We still have some coins left over if you guys want to get anything else,” Sokka said, as they all strolled on the edge of the docks, Toph clinging to Sokka’s arm for support. “I don’t think Aang and Katara are coming. Ooh! Weapons shop! Let’s go there!”

“All Snoozles cares about is his sword,” Toph grumbled. 

“I don’t have a sword, I have a boomerang! I’m the boomerang guy!”

“Boomerang?” Zuko repeated, quirking an eyebrow. 

“It can be a very effective weapon,” Sokka seethed.

“Right.”

“You kids looking for something sharp?” the merchant asked, interrupting their conversation. The man leaned forward over his stall, both eyes and grin crooked. “I’ve got lots of sharp things! Young man, are you trained in the art of swordsmanship?”

“I’m trained in the art of boomerangship,” Sokka replied. Zuko winced. He knew the reply was coming before it was said. 

“Boomerang? But that’s a Water Tribe weapon!”

“Er, to know your enemy is to become your enemy!” 

The merchant’s face brightened. “Ah! A young soldier! And you, good sir? Do you know the ways of the sword?”

It took Zuko a minute to realize the man was talking to him. “Uh, yeah,” Zuko said. “Dual Dao swords.”

“Ah, the same weapon used by the Blue Spirit to infiltrate the Pohuai Stronghold! You must be a great warrior, indeed.”

“Sorry, the what now?” Toph questioned. 

“Why, the Blue Spirit! Scourge of the Fire Nation. One moment, boy, I believe I have some back here!” and he ducked beneath his stall, his voice muffled by wood as he kept speaking. “Wanted by the Fire Nation for stealing the Avatar from Admiral Zhao, may his flame burn eternal.”

Both Zuko and Sokka choked on their own breath. 

“Zhao - Admiral Zhao is dead?” Zuko sputtered. The merchant popped back up again, holding a leather and gold sheath with the hilts of the swords sticking out of it. Thunder rumbled above them.

“You’ve been traveling with the army for a long time, have you,” he asked, narrowing his eyes. Zuko clenched his teeth and nodded, his heart pulsating in his head. But the merchant’s face softened and he grinned toothily. “Oh, no matter. The Avatar is dead now, yippee! Here you are good soldier, on the house. Thank you for your service.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” Zuko started, but Sokka already grabbed the sheath and the swords therein and reached out to shake the merchant's hand vigorously. Rain began to pour down heavily onto the market, squashing a few of the weaker flames and sending shoppers fleeing to shelter under slanted wooden roofs. 

“Thank you, good sir! Please doing business with ya! Come on gang, let’s get back to our crew.”

“I’ll do right by you!” Zuko called as they headed back, the traditional saying once you’ve received a gift. 

“The Blue Spirit, huh?” Toph muttered as they walked briskly away. “What’s that about?”

“It was just a… a one-time thing,” Zuko squeaked. 

“Uh-huh.”

Sokka handed him the swords. “So you’re not only a firebender, but you’re a swordbender too?”

“Swordbender - that’s not a real thing!”

“But you’re good at playing with swords,” Toph noted. Zuko bristled. 

“Sure,” he snapped.  

“Let’s just get back on the ship,” Sokka said, “I’m soaked.”

They made it to the edge of the dock their ship was stationed at when Katara scrambled down from the deck. Zuko winced at the flashes of blue showing under her cloak. “It’s Aang -” she gasped out. “He’s - he’s gone! He went into the storm with his glider!”

“Oh, no,” Sokka muttered, voice hollow. 

“We have to take Appa! C’mon!” Toph shouted. “He’s injured, he couldn’t have gotten far!” 

They raced up the bridge. Sokka tore back the tarp covering the sky bison and the Avatar’s friends climbed aboard, with Zuko hesitating. He met Katara’s eyes and she nodded, slightly. He scrambled up the bison. 

“We’ll meet you at the rendezvous point for the invasion,” Sokka called down to Hakoda, the ship already backing out of the port. 

“We’ll see you again,” Katara promised. Zuko could hear her voice crack. 

“Zuko!”

It was Tunek. He tossed something in Zuko’s direction, just a small flicker through the veil of rain, but Zuko caught it and held it gently in his palm - the Pai Sho tile. “Don’t do anything stupid,” Tunek said. Zuko nodded. He yearned to say something, say anything, tell him thank you for not treating me like the scum of the earth, but the wind caught his words so he just shouted out, “Take care of the hawks!” and they were already flying away. 

They found him on the shoreline of a crescent island melting into the sea by an active volcano, an island that Zuko painfully tried to grasp in some dark corner of his memory, but his mind was hollow to it. 

Katara embraced the Avatar and the others joined in, assuring Aang that they’re there to help. 

“We’ll be meeting up with my dad the day of the eclipse,” Sokka told him, and then the glider washed up beside Toph, broken and water-logged. Zuko watched as Aang ceremoniously, and a bit melodramatically plunged it into the lava. It wasn’t until they were all back on the sky bison that Aang realized Zuko was with them. 

“Oh, hi Zuko! You have swords!”

Chapter Text

“This has got to be one of the stupidest ideas you’ve ever had,” Zuko deadpanned, shivering in their makeshift cloud. (Cold wrapped around his bones and settled in deep, but he didn’t mind, much. It was like a wet blanket, but there was something comforting about knowing that he was in the open air rather than pressed against a stone cell.)

“You’d be surprised,” Toph said with a toothy grin. 

“I think I see a cave!” Aang announced.

“Shh! Keep quiet!” Sokka scolded, peering over the edge of the saddle. “Ok Appa, take us down nice and slow.”

The beast landed with a thunderous mph that sent Sokka careening over the edge. 

“Who knew Appa had a sense of humor,” Toph mused. (Zuko wanted to laugh with her. He didn’t.) They all slid down Appa’s side.

“That’s not funny!” Sokka complained, catching himself as his voice grew louder. He ducked down behind a rock and said in a whisper, “We’re in enemy territory now. Anything could be a threat.”

Toph snorted and made her way into the looming cave. “Yeah, those birds seem like real bad guys.”

“They’re cute,” Zuko remarked quietly. No one heard him.

“Sokka, we can’t keep treating everyone in the Fire Nation as our enemy,” Aang chastised, throwing his pack onto the ground beside Appa. Zuko slid down against the exterior cave wall, watching. Toph was somewhere inside, romping around and softening the dirt into a bed. “If we don’t trust anyone, how can we help them? Besides, Zuko’s from the Fire Nation, and he’s not our enemy!” 

“That has yet to be determined,” Katara remarked, folding her arms and sending a hate-filled glare towards Zuko. Don’t engage. Don’t engage. Don’t engage.

(Zuko couldn’t help that he was filled with such rage all the time, the kind that filled his stomach and crawled up his esophagus, wrapping around his throat, choking his words until he let his voice scream.)

“What do I have to do to get you to trust me?” Zuko growled, jumping to his feet. Damnit .

“Once you prove yourself, maybe I’ll give you a chance,” Katara shot back. Zuko’s eyes narrowed and he recounted saving Aang and Katara’s asses back in Ba Sing Se. 

“What more can I do?” He was painfully aware his voice was rising to a shout. “I fought for you! I worked on your ship! I betrayed my own sister! What else do you want? For me to denounce my country? My people, my heritage?”

“Okay guys, we don’t need to be fighting over this -”

“Be quiet, Aang.” Katara grew closer, her hands clenched into fists. “Sure. Let’s have this discussion.” Sokka and Aang stepped away, Sokka’s arm stretched across Aang’s chest. Zuko’s fists tightened, so did his chest. Toph emerged from the cave. 

“What’s going on?”

“Shh! Bender showdown!” Sokka hissed. Zuko scowled. 

“This isn’t going to be a -”

“I don’t know much about you,” Katara started, slowly approaching Zuko. He hesitantly stepped backward. “Other than that you are the son of Fire Lord Ozai, grandson of Fire Lord Azulon, and great-grandson of Fire Lord Sozin. You’re the brother of that bitch-” (and Zuko suddenly have an overwhelming urge to defend his bitch of a sister) “-who has chased us throughout the world and took Ba Sing Se from the people. Your father, your grandfather, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera have wreaked havoc on the Water Tribe and the Earth Kingdom people for a century. The Fire Nation stole the waterbenders from the Southern Water Tribe. They’ve burned and starved Earth Kingdom villages, they’ve taken their land. And all of a sudden the embodiment of all that cruelty, all that pain, shows up and claims to want to help the Avatar? And, now what, I’m supposed to - we’re supposed to forget what your people have caused?”

“They’re still my people,” Zuko managed. “It’s my duty to protect them.”

“Is it also your duty to ravage the rest of the world?”

“I -”

“You’re the prince! If you’re truly good,” she spat, and her words were burning and fierce and Zuko distantly thought that she would’ve been a good firebender, all that anger pent up inside that can only ever be released in a form of destruction, “You would’ve spoken up. You could’ve stopped them.” 

You can’t sacrifice an entire division like that! These soldiers love and defend our nation! How could you betray them like that? 

“You don’t know what I could’ve done,” Zuko replied, but his words passed through Katara like a breeze. 

“I almost find it funny that someone gave the great Fire Prince such a scar on his face. They didn’t even respect you. Why should I?”

“C’mon Katara, that’s too far,” Aang warned, breaching Sokka’s wall. Katara whirled on him. 

“He killed your people, Aang! All of them!”

“He is not Sozin!”

She drew in a long breath. It reminded Zuko that he hadn’t released his yet.

“The royal family loves to brag about how they have the blood of Agni running through their veins,” she said slowly. “If the blood of Agni was able to destroy an entire civilization like that, who’s to say anyone of that family won’t as well.”

Zuko thought of his childhood, his education, how he grew up revering his grandfather and great grandfather, for they defeated savages, they brought order and balance to the world, that they were all better off without the despicable practices of the Air Nomads.

“I don’t care if you trust me or not.” He lifted his chin. “You don’t have to. But the Avatar trusts me, and that’s why I’m here.” 

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

He turned to leave through the brush. 

“Wha - where are you going?” Sokka called out.

“To meditate!” he snapped, trudging up the side of the rocky hill. 

“Way to go, Sweetness,” he heard Toph mutter.

“How is this my fault?”

“Are you seriously asking that?” 

“They don’t want you,” his father noted, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It kind of was. 

“Shut up. I’m trying to concentrate.” Zuko stared harder at the burning leaf between his fingertips. His father laughed. The leaf burned faster. 

“I don’t understand why you’re even trying,” Ozai continued. “Do you really think they’ll ever accept you for the sins of your great grandfather? My father? Me?”

“I don’t care about that.” Zuko gritted his teeth. “I care about helping the Avatar defeat you.” 

“Ah, but even the Avatar doesn’t believe in you. You’re in your homeland now, Prince Zuko. You can turn away from this. Start a new life.”

“As if you wouldn’t hunt me down.”

Ozai chuckled. “Oh, it pities me that you think I care enough.”

The leaf singed his fingertips and Zuko dropped it with a wince, blowing on the fresh pink burn. His father rippled out of his head with a gust of wind just as Sokka emerged at the crest of the hill. Zuko greeted him with a nod.

“Hey buddy,” Sokka said with a half-hearted wave. “Uh, we talked to Katara and she agreed that what she said - uh, everything she said was unfair and she apologized. To us. She’s a bit too stubborn to come up here and do it herself, so… sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Zuko replied with a small huff of laughter. “I don’t really care.”

Sokka plopped down beside him and stared at the remnants of a charred leaf at his feet. He cleared his throat. “Great! We’re going into town now to get some clothes - y’know, disguises!”

“Oh. Have fun.”

“Jeez, you’re really an idiot, huh?” Sokka muttered. Zuko scowled fiercely. Sokka nudged his shoulder. “I’m telling you to come with us. You can give us the Fire Nation lowdown.”

Zuko blinked and felt a furious blush take over. He stumbled to his feet. “Right, yeah. Sure, I’ll come with.”

He and Katara didn’t even acknowledge each other, which was totally fine by Zuko. Aang bounded up to him as if nothing had happened. “Hey, Zuko! You’re back! We’re going -”

“Sokka told me.”

“Okay, great. I was just filling everyone in on Fire Nation lingo! I visited the Fire Nation all the time when I lived in the Air Temples. My friend Kuzon taught me everything I needed to know. So, when you great someone in passing, you say, ‘greetings, my good hot man!’ If you want to thank someone or congratulate them, you say, ‘flamey-o!’ And -”

“I’m sorry,” Zuko cut in, “When did you learn all of this?”

“Uh, like a hundred and one years ago?”

Zuko’s features scrunched up. “That’s - no one says that anymore. Unless -” unless so much has changed since I’ve been gone. The thought alone chilled his bones. He banished it from his head.

“Unless what?” Toph questioned. Zuko scowled. 

“Nevermind. No one really greets each other in passing; it’s considered rude to bother someone on their way in case you make them late. So it’s best to keep to yourself when you’re traveling through the market, but it’s very important to greet vendors correctly if they don’t greet you first.” 

“The sword seller called us over first,” Sokka remarked. Zuko nodded.

“Exactly. When you enter into someone’s stall or shop, you bow to them like this,” and he inclined his head, palms clasped together. He straightened back up. “You wait for them to welcome you in. But most vendors really want business, so they’ll be calling anyone in. If you don’t want to shop or buy anything, either just don’t enter at all or ask for apologies when you leave. Most vendors hate people who just browse, it’s considered disrespectful. Oh, and always accept something free from a merchant, but swear on your honor that you’ll do right by them, like pay them back, but no one ever really follows through on that. It’s just courtesy.”

“The Fire Nation has so many rules,” Toph complained, scrunching her nose. “The Earth Kingdom marketplaces are just… chaos.”

“They’re not really rules.” Zuko shrugged. “It’s just kind of… common knowledge. It’s how you maintain respect.”

“I’m getting the feeling respect is a really important part of this culture,” Aang echoed. Zuko wanted to laugh. 

“Yeah, it is. Respect and honor are the two most important things a Fire Nation citizen can have, more important than wealth, love, or family. They go hand in hand. If you don’t have respect towards others, they won’t have respect towards you. If you’re considered dishonorable, or if you’ve done something dishonorable, you’re basically the lowest of the low. No matter your status, no one is required to be respectful or honorable towards you. You’re dirt.”

“That’s terrible,” Katara murmured. Zuko shrugged again. Did the other nations really not have this way of life?

“It maintains a sort of peace in the nation, like a ‘treat others the way you want to be treated.’ If you have respect, if you have honor, then you’re equal to everyone else who has respect and honor. Wealth and status mean nothing if no one has respect towards you.”

“I think I get it,” Aang said. “But there’s… no one says ‘flamey-o, hot man’ anymore?”

“Uh, no, not really. There might be, like, new sayings with schoolchildren, but I didn’t attend public school, so I wouldn’t know.”

“Aw, the Fire Prince didn’t have many friends growing up?” Toph teased, punching Zuko’s arm. He grimaced. 

“Not really.”

Sokka clapped his hands together. “Alright gang, enough dawdling! Let’s grab some clothes and head to the market.” 

“Should we really be stealing from these people?” Zuko asked quietly, peeking up from behind the rock. 

“I call the silk robe!” Katara yelled, leaping up from her hiding place and scampering down the hill. 

“C’mon Zuko, it’s essential to our survival!” said Aang, running after her. Toph slumped against a rock. 

“Pick me out something nice, will ya Sparky?” 

“I don’t think this is very honorable,” Zuko grumbled, treading down after the others. 

Toph had him carve the soles of her shoes out so as to not look like she was walking around barefoot. “It feels really good to be taken care of,” she sighed, giving Zuko a pat on the shoulder. 

“C’mon Toph, we take care of you!” Katara protested. 

“All you guys do is make blind jokes and then forget that I’m blind!”

“ You’re the one who makes - ugh. C’mon, let’s head into the city. I need a new necklace.”

“Sokka, look!” Aang crowed as they made their way down the path into the marketplace, “I look like a real kid!”

Zuko supposed Aang really never was able, or never will be able, to properly grow up. Once he found out he was the Avatar, everything had to have changed: his duties, his priorities, his whole life. Now he has to defeat a whole nation. Now he has to defeat Zuko’s father. (You never had a childhood either, something says inside Zuko. Where were your friends? Where was the support of your father? You never grew into manhood. You remain a sad, hollow shell of a boy. 

I’ve grown up all on my own, Zuko snarks back. Without anyone’s help.)

With a jolting realization, Zuko found Katara walking beside him. 

“Hey,” he managed. Thankfully there was no unmanageable impulse to yell at her rising inside his gut.

“Hey,” she replied. “Listen, um, I know Sokka already apologized for me, but what I said was wrong. It’s just…”

“I get it.”

“It’s hard to trust someone like you,” she finished. He nodded.

“You don’t have to,” he offered, looking into her blue eyes. They reflected his own; the moon, the sun. Opposite elements.

 “Still,” she continued, meeting his gaze, “I wonder, who could’ve given the prince of the Fire Nation that scar and lived?”

They find the flyer nearly immediately. It’s posted on the gate to the marketplace, large and glaring and painful. Sokka reads it out for them. 

“The banished Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation,” he began, slow and careful, like he was scared of breaking Zuko with his words, “wanted dead or alive, by royal decree of Fire Lord Ozai. Er, sorry, bud.”

Zuko wretched the flyer from the log gate, staring at the etching of his face. He looked younger in it, his eyes a bit happier, but his scar was still there, drawn with broad, shaky strokes, red like blood on the paper. “He didn’t even acknowledge me as his son,” he muttered, mainly to himself, but he saw Sokka turn away in the corner of his eye.  

“Dead or alive? But he’s your dad!” Aang burst out, large eyes wide and innocent and foolish. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Zuko snapped, crumpling the flyer and letting it eat itself into ash in his hand. “I’m going back to camp. You guys can buy me a cloak or something, I don’t care. I won’t risk getting recognized.”

“C’mon Zuko, I’m sure no one will… recognize that giant scar…,” Sokka started, but Zuko was already briskly walking the other way, hunched over. 

“I’ll see you guys later,” he called back. His fingernails dug painfully into his palms. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Zuko kicked a rock and blamed his father for the pain that shot up his foot. 

“Stupid Ozai,” he swore, hopping around. “Stupid, stupid Ozai. Stupid Azula. Stupid, stupid, stupid!” and he collapsed onto Appa’s tail. The sky bison let out a low moan of contempt, but didn’t move.

“He didn’t even acknowledge me as his son,” Zuko repeated. His breath washed out of him and he closed his eyes to the glare of Agni above him. “He didn’t even… It’s not fair. It’s not fair.” Get off your ass and do something about it, said that something inside him, whose voice sent a stab of discomfort through his chest. He sighed, but nevertheless rolled off Appa’s tail and settled down at the mouth of the cave, hastily arranging plucked flowers in a circle around a thin stick that stuck out of the mud. He ignited its tip and watched as a slow flame quietly consumed it, then he closed his eyes. 

“Mamoru Sha,” he murmured, hands on his knees. “Please. I need guidance. How do I - how do I protect the Avatar from my father, if I can’t even protect him from myself? Every waking hour, he’s there, in the corner of my eye. Watching me, mocking me, I - I feel useless, Great Protector. Please.”

“Mamoru Sha never answers me,” Zuko whined, flopping down on his bed, sliding partway off the edge. He stared at an upside-down Azula. She smirked. 

“Well, obviously, Zuzu. Mamoru Sha isn’t real. None of the spirits are.”

“‘Zula, how can you say that? The Fire ages would kill you if they ever heard you say that! Agni is real!”

Azula shrugged. “Well, if they are, they’re certainly not interested in us.” 

“You ruin everything,” Zuko grumbled with a scowl. He sat back up and looked Azula in the eye, which was always kind of hard to do because she would narrow her eyes into slits and glare into his and he would get too intimidated - intimidated by his baby sister! What would father think? - and have to look away. “Uncle says we should always respect the spirits because they’re everywhere around us,” he said pointedly. Azula laughed. 

“After Lu Ten died, Uncle went crazy. You can’t trust anything he says, Zuzu.”

“Don’t speak like that about Uncle!” Zuko snapped. His hand instinctively flitted to the pearl dagger at his hip. Azula saw the motion, but she didn’t comment on it. 

“What are you praying to the spirit of protection for anyways?” Azula continued, admiring her manicured nails. She spent hours every week getting them done, over and over again. Zuko scowled. He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. His sister’s eyes softened to a small degree. “Is it because of dad?” she asked quietly. 

“Get out of my room, Azula.”

“Zuko -”

“Get out of my room!”

“I’m just looking out for you, dum-dum,” she said softly, but she turned to leave. 

“I don’t need you to look out for me!” Zuko shouted after her. Once she left Zuko fell back on his bed with an exaggerated sigh. “I don’t need anyone to look out for me,” he murmured. “But Great Protector, please…”

Nothing. Not even a whisper of a warm breeze or the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. Zuko stayed in that position for a long time, eyes half-open, watching the stick burn itself out and the flowers curling up with the flames, feeling around for something, anything in the abyss. But he was alone. 

“I should’ve known,”  Zuko said, standing back up and brushing the dirt from his knees. “You’ve never responded to any of my calls. Why should you start now?” and he crushed the flowers beneath his feet.

Sokka, Katara, and Toph returned not that long later, with no Avatar in tow. 

“You lost him,” Zuko repeated dryly, thanking Sokka for the cloak he handed him with a nod. “You just… lost him?”

“We went to go grab some meat, came out, and he was gone!” Toph exclaimed. “I couldn’t feel him anywhere.”

“We all know that when we’re in cities, the meetup time is sunset,” said Katara, placing a basket of supplies down in the cave. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

But the sun soon melted into the horizon and she began to wring her hands. “Should we go look for him?”

“Katara, you said it yourself,” Sokka said. “Wait until sunset.”

“It is sunset!”

“I still see a little bit of sun!”

“Urgh! I’m gonna go look for him.”

The Avatar appeared just then where the path met the horizon and Katara’s face erupted in joy. “Aang! You’re back! Where have you been? We were worried sick!”

“You were worried sick,” Toph corrected quietly. Zuko scoffed in agreement.

“Sorry, guys. I got invited to play with some kids after school!”

Zuko’s jaw wasn’t the only one that hung open. 

“I’m sorry, after what?” Sokka screeched, whirling on Aang with a horrified look on his face. 

“I enrolled in a Fire Nation school, and I’m going back tomorrow!”

“Enrolled in what?” and Sokka collapsed into the dirt. 

“Someone get him up,” Toph complained, her tone one of someone with a smile.

“Aang, that is incredibly stupid!” Katara sighed, not even sounding surprised. 

“Just hear me out,” Aang pressed, raising his hands. “I think it’s a good idea!”

“Well, let me get a fire going, and once Sokka wakes up you can try to convince him to listen to you.”

“Thanks!”

“Uh, Katara,” Zuko said, stepping forward, “I can light the fire.” 

She paused. “Sure,” she finally replied. “I’ll start dinner, then.”

“Aang,” Sokka began, rubbing the sore part of his head, “I’m trying to be inclusive of all ideas and not shoot yours down immediately, but that’s quite frankly the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard. It sounds really terrible.”

“I agree,” Zuko said. The girls nodded in approval. 

“Every minute I’m in that class, I’m learning new things about the Fire Nation from real Fire Nation people! Look, I already have a portrait of Fire Lord Ozai!” and he withdrew it from his pocket. Zuko cringed at the sight of his father, no matter how inanimate he seemed. He snatched the paper from Aang and tossed it in the fire. Aang blinked, his eyes all round and dewy like a newborn deer-cow. 

“You don’t need a teacher to tell you about the Fire Nation,” Zuko insisted. “You have me.” 

“But you said it yourself. You didn’t go to a real school. I’m with real Fire Nation kids all day! Maybe I could change their minds about the war!” 

“Don’t bother,” Zuko muttered. Katara nodded.

“They’re too brainwashed.”

“It’s not that, it’s if you’re caught disrespecting the name of the Fire Lord by denouncing the war you’ll be sent to a reeducation camp, where there won’t be any education,” Zuko spat, “Just mining and shoveling coal from dawn to dusk.” And down there you won’t even see the sun.

“It’s too dangerous,” Sokka reiterated. Aang slumped. 

“I guess we’ll never find out about the secret river that leads right up to the palace,” he said glumly. “We were supposed to learn about it in class tomorrow.”

“I do like secret rivers,” Sokka murmured. Zuko scoffed.

“There isn’t a secret river.”

“Well, you wouldn’t know, it’s secret,” Aang pointed out. Sokka nodded in agreement. 

“Uh - I grew up there?” 

“Why don’t we stay for a few more days?” Katara suggested. “We have plenty of time before the invasion. It’ll be good to rest up.” 

“Flamey-o, hot man!” 

Toph was challenging Zuko to walk around with his eyes closed and Katara and Sokka were both brushing Appa’s thick fur when their second problem appeared the next day in the form of Aang came speeding back up the path, panting hard. 

“Parents!” he gasped out. “I got in -” wheeze “- fight, I need parents -” gasp “- my name is Kuzon!” 

“Are you kidding me?” Sokka shrieked, dropping the brush. “Seriously, Aang?”

“It’s Kuzon,” Aang corrected. “And I need two of you guys to be my parents!” 

“I was right, this was a terrible idea,” Sokka groaned. 

“I guess Katara and Sokka make the most sense,” Toph said. 

“They don’t look anything like me!” Aang protested. 

“I’m so sorry I got your physical descriptions wrong,” Toph sneered. 

“Zuko has lighter skin, he and Katara could go,” Sokka figured, stroking his chin. Zuko and Katara both vehemently, and loudly, opposed this idea immediately, Katara with a few cuss words and Zuko by violently just shaking his head.

“Not gonna work,” he grunted. Aang frowned. 

“Well... what about Zuko and Sokka? I don’t think they hate each other that much!”

“I don’t - I don’t hate you,” Sokka sputtered. Zuko rolled his eyes. 

“I’d be too recognizable,” he said. 

“Oh, that’s no problem!” Katara said with a grin, and suddenly she was constructing an eye patch out of loose fabric and tossing it to Zuko. “There weren’t many other posters in town, and I don’t think they’d be looking for the Fire Prince in the form of little Kuzon’s dad.”

“Then it’s settled!” Aang exclaimed, throwing his arms up. “You guys are my new dads! Remember, I’m Kuzon and I grew up in the colonies. You guys can come up with your own backstories if you’d like!”

“That’s not necessary,” Zuko said, at the same time Sokka went, “I’m starting right now!”

“Great! But we have to go now, though. I’m already kind of late.”

Sokka quickly grabbed some of Appa’s brown fur and fastened it into a beard and mustache. As they started back down into the city, Zuko was aware of the girls giggling behind him. 

“They’re so cute together,” Toph laughed. 

“You’re blind!” he yelled back. Ugh. Girls are crazy. 

“Thank you for coming, Mr. and Mr…”

“Fire,” said Sokka, scratching his beard of Appa fur. “Wang Fire, and -”

“Lee Fire,” Zuko said dryly. “Nice to meet you.”

“And you,” the headmaster replied, blinking in confusion. “Er - your son, Kuzon, has been the cause of many troubles recently. He has mouthed off to his history teacher, disrespected the sacredness of our music room, and roughed up my star pupil!”

Sokka dramatically gasped. “Kuzon! That doesn’t sound like you!”

“New school jitters, I guess,” Aang offered meekly. 

“He even -” and the headmaster had to take in a breath before continuing “- dared claim that the Air Nomads had no active army. He denied our own history!”

“But it’s -”

Zuko kicked Aang’s leg from under the chair. “That is horrifying to hear. You see, in our colony, Earth Kingdom savages would often try to preach their lies in order to sway the youth. In fact, they’re the reason we left for the homeland. It pains me to hear they’ve gotten to our sweet Kuzon.” 

The headmaster nodded. “I’m very sorry to hear that,” he said, “but this behavior must be addressed immediately, lest sweet Kuzon be sent to reeducation school.”

Zuko swallowed. “Of course,” he managed. Sokka rose with his hands on his hips and shook a finger at Aang. 

“Just you wait, boy! I’ll straighten you up something fierce! Don’t you worry, Mr. Headmaster. I will be sure to treat this boy respect myself!”

You will learn respect. And suffering will be your teacher.

“Whew! Thanks, guys!”

“That’s it,” said Sokka. “We’re leaving at sunset. What were you thinking, Aang?”

“I was thinking,” Aang snapped, his voice suddenly vicious, “that I couldn’t just stand around and watch as these propaganda lies about my people are being fed to Fire Nation citizens! Sokka, if you were in the Earth Kingdom and someone said that Water Tribesmen participate in cannibalism over the winter, wouldn’t you have stepped in?”

“I -”

“It doesn’t matter what you would do,” Zuko snarled, turning on Aang. “You’re not the Avatar here. You’re Kuzon, a poor little colony boy with undying loyalty to the Fire Lord. You’re going to turn 16 and then you’re going to die for him, and you won’t even question it, because you are so grateful, you are so happy to be dying for your nation. The Fire Lord’s word is law. Anything he says is true and unquestionable.” You’re weak. Pathetic. Powerless. 

“What’s going on? Zuko, why are you yelling at Aang?”

Katara and Toph were approaching. Zuko looked away bitterly. 

“I’m sorry Zuko, I didn’t know,” Aang choked out. Zuko shook his head. 

“No,” he said coldly. “You do know. I’ve told you before, and you just didn’t listen. This isn’t a game, Avatar.”

“Hey, he knows it’s not a game,” Katara challenged. “Lay off him, will you? He’s trying his best! He’s just a kid!” I was just a kid, too! he wanted to scream. 

“He’s the Avatar,” Zuko said. 

“I can be both!” Aang cut in. “I can be a normal kid, too! And I can teach these kids how to be normal kids! In - in fact, I kind of invited them over for a dance party.”

“Why am I surprised,” Zuko groaned. 

“Please, Katara. We’ll leave first thing in the morning. I just - I want them to know what real joy is.” 

“Oh - okay, sure. Why not.”

“I’m sure nothing worse can happen,” Toph muttered. 

“You guys have fun,” Zuko sneered. “I’m going to go contemplate my life choices.” And he stalked off. 

“Okay Zuko, see you later!” 

The Prince of the Fire Nation was hiding in the back of the cave. 

Toph didn’t blame him. She was never a fan of doing things that kids were supposed to do, like dance, or have friends, or have fun… Besides, she was the Avatar’s earthbending master. She had to be disciplined and strict, without weakness, and she definitely cared a lot more about defeating the Fire Lord than teaching some Fire Brats the art of footwork. 

“I should go check on Zuko,” she said to Katara, taking a swing of her cold drink. It was bitter and untasteful. Sokka was no good at mixing drinks. 

“Who knew the Blind Bandit had a heart,” Katara teased. “I wouldn’t bother. He’s just being a sourpuss. I mean, who is he to say that Aang can’t have fun? He’s strong! We have time to defeat Ozai.”

“Well, I think Zuko knows the Fire Lord best,” Toph noted. Katara grunted in acknowledgment. Toph turned her head towards a light brushing of feet on the comforting stone floor. “Someone’s here to see you,” she mused.

“Uh, hi, Katara. Would you - um, would you like to dance?”

Toph could practically feel the heat rushing off of Katara’s cheeks. “Sure, Aang,” she said lightly. 

“You kids have fun!” Toph called out. 

“Hey, Toph?” 

“What’s up, Snoozles.” 

“Do you think Zuko is okay? He seemed really upset. Should I go check on him?”

Toph stood and stretched her sturdy limbs and moved closer to Sokka; the prepubescent kids’ instruments were screeching loudly and affecting her spatial awareness. “Nah,” she said. “I should probably do it. Us rich-kids-who-ran-away-from-home understand each other, y’know?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

The Prince was huddled behind one of the platform rocks where some bitchass kid was performing terribly. 

“Can we move further back?” Toph complained. “That tsungi horn is terribly out of tune.”

“I didn’t know you had a taste for music,” Zuko mumbled, but nevertheless he stood and they traveled further into the cave. 

“I grew up in the Bei Fong household, the richest in Gaoling,” she said dryly. “There was music every night. My parents tried to make me take lessons but I just would pull the blind card.”

“You’re a Bei Fong? Really? Wow. I didn’t know they had a daughter.”

“No one did,” she replied stiffly. “My parents preferred to keep me in the dark - literally!” and she forced a laugh. Zuko didn’t reciprocate it. She stopped laughing. 

“That sucks,” Zuko said. Toph shrugged. 

“Yeah, I guess it did. I was never able to be one of those… normal kids, that Aang was talking about, y’know? Not that I care, or whatever. It’s easier to be alone. I could focus more on myself and my bending that way.”

“You’re not alone now.”

Toph just hummed in response. Then, “What was it like growing up in the Fire Nation as a prince? I’m sure everybody knew you.”

Zuko chuckled. “If anyone would recognize me, it would be because of royal family portraits, not because I know them. When I was a kid -”

“You’re still a kid.”

“When I was younger,” he corrected, “I would like to sneak out into the city with my cousin, Lu Ten. We would wear cloaks and put our hair in top knots and pretend to be spies or runaways. Lu Ten was really good at hiding from his guards.” He laughed, quietly. “It was nice, ‘cause no one would recognize me away from all the guards or without royal garments. But now… my face is everywhere.”

“Katara and the others - they keep saying you have a scar.”

He stiffened. “Yeah,” he said tightly. “On my face.” 

“Is it really that noticeable?” 

He choked out a sad, twisted laugh. “Yeah,” he muttered. “It’s pretty noticeable.”

“Can I… Nevermind, it’s stupid.”

“What?”

“I never do this, I think it’s fucking stupid and pointless, and I don’t care about appearances, really, I don’t, but - could I see? Or feel, really.”

“Oh. Yeah, if you’d like.” He shifted closer to her, lightly took her hand in his and placed it on the edge of his jaw. She let her fingers trail up smooth skin on the right side of his face, then over the sharp bridge of his nose, and then - her hand flinched away. 

“I know,” he agreed, and his voice was sad and terribly lonely. She moved her hand back slowly, fingertips brushing rough, uneven, raised skin. It felt noticeably warmer compared to the surrounding area, and she traced its edge, along the side of his nose, reaching below his cheek, high above his brow, and the rough remnants of his ear. 

“Can you see?”

“Out of that eye? I couldn’t, for a while. Now, I can kind of just see straight ahead. Everything else is murky.”

“Who - who did this?”

Suddenly her hand was left hanging in the air as Zuko jerked away from her. She retracted her hand and waited for a response, which didn’t come for several moments. 

“I disrespected someone,” he finally said, his words barely reaching her ears. Toph swallowed. 

“Respect is very important in the Fire Nation,” she echoed. Zuko slumped against the cave wall. “My parents have friends in the Fire Nation court,” she continued slowly. “They deal in international trade, so they’re - they’re neutral. I remember - a few years ago, a couple court nobles were having dinner at our house. I was told to go play outside while the adults talked, but I listened in. They were… laughing. About someone really high up in the court. Someone who was disgraced. Someone no one in the Fire Nation was allowed to talk about anymore. Someone who was burnt out of portraits and tapestries.”

“Me,” said Zuko. His voice was mournful, distant. His heart pumped slow and deep and Toph suddenly yearned to take his hand, but she held back. 

“What happened?”

“I questioned someone. I disrespected them. For a commoner to do that is one thing, but the prince?” 

“So you disappeared,” she finished. 

“I was sent away. And in that time, I… experienced the reach of my father’s rule. His tyranny.” 

“That’s why you’re helping Aang now.”

“I -”

“Guys, we’re busted!” Sokka suddenly yelled, running past them. “C’mon Toph, we need to get to Appa!” 

“Let’s go!” Aang shouted, laughter in his voice. 

“You got it! C’mon, Zuko!”

He hesitated. “Those kids,” he finally said. “They were having fun.”  Toph grabbed his hand and yanked him forward to his feet. 

“We can have fun too, Zuko! But later. Let’s go!”

And as they fled, a little boy who had just danced for the first time in his life turned to see a teenager and a small blind girl fleeing down a newly appeared tunnel. He could’ve sworn half the teenager’s face was encased in red scars, like the posters of the ex-Prince around town, and then - then the earth swallowed them up, and Kuzon disappeared out of the little boy’s life as quickly as he had appeared. 

Chapter Text

“This places smells disgusting,” Toph said, wrinkling her nose. 

“It is disgusting,” Katara replied, resting her head on her hands. 

“Aang doesn’t think so,” Sokka said dryly. Zuko grunted and glanced over at the young Avatar, who was diving through murky, thick water with the winged lemur.

“Can’t the sky bison just… fly?” Zuko wondered. 

“Appa’s tired,” said Katara. “It’s easier for him to swim. Any luck with the fishing, Sokka?” 

Sokka shook his head. “Nope. And usually my fishing skills are off the hook! Get it? Cause - fishing hook? Huh?”

“Don’t indulge him,” Toph said. Zuko smirked at Sokka’s indignant scowl.

Aang flew out of the water and hovered a few inches above the saddle, dripping muck. “I think this river is polluted.”

“No shit,” Zuko said. 

“It probably is full of shit,” Toph giggled. Katara gasped. 

“Ew, Toph! Don’t even say that. That’s disgusting.”

“It’s just the truth.”

With a rush of wind, Aang bent the mud and gunk of his body, splattering it over Sokka and his fishing hook. Katara laughed gleefully as Sokka crowed in disgust. “Explains my fishing luck,” he grumbled. “Nothing could survive in this mud.” Just then, Momo flew up beside them and perched on the edge of the saddle, sniffing a rotting fish corpse clasped in his paws. “My point exactly.” And he threw the makeshift fishing pole into the water, where it floated on the thick surface for a moment or two before slowly sinking.

“Look, there’s a village up ahead! We could get food there!”

“I don’t know Aang,” Katara said. “It might not fit into Sokka’s master schedule.” 

“Ah, let me see. Hm… it’s doable, but that means we can only have two potty breaks today.”

“I’ll potty break whenever I want,” Zuko snarked. Sokka sneered at him in contempt. 

“Okay boys, calm down,” Katara chastised. “Appa, take us to land, buddy.”

Toph and Aang bent a mat of grass onto Appa’s back, hiding his body except for the massive horns poking out of the moss. 

“How inconspicuous.” Zuko rolled his eyes. 

“You’re being very sassy today Mr. Jerkbender,” Sokka noted, finishing off wiping the rest of the mud of his legs. 

“Jerkbender? Really? That’s the best you can come up with?” 

“Oh, you can do better?”

“I’m just saying I’ve been called worse,” Zuko scoffed. Sokka smirked. 

“Oh yeah? I’m a master at insults! What could be better?”

“Ashmaker. Wildfire. Redeye. Scarface, two-face, half-face,” he listed. “Fire scum. Coward. Little dragon rat. Evil incarnate.”

The others stared at him. Toph’s eyebrows were furrowed and her mouth twisted. 

“What?”

“But that’s -” Aang paused. “That’s so hurtful.”

Zuko frowned. “They’re just words,” he said. He looked to Sokka. “I’m just saying, you need to up your game.”

“I’m a little uncomfortable with upping my game,” Sokka mumbled, shifting his weight from one foot to another. Zuko shrugged. 

“Whatever,” he muttered. “Let’s get going before our two potty breaks are reduced to one.” He grabbed his cloak and slipped on the eyepatch.

A gangly man with bony limbs and floppy clothing stood at the edge of the river, watching them approach, as if he had been waiting forever to guide someone across the water. 

“Hello, travelers!” the man greeted, waving a knobly hand. “Name’s Dock. Are you looking for passage into town?”

“Yes, please,” Katara said.

“Where is it?” Toph whispered to Zuko. “I can’t see anything.”

“It’s floating on wood stilts in the middle of the river,” Zuko replied. “We have to take a boat to get to it.”

“Oh. Could I…?” she trailed off before finishing her question, but Zuko brushed his hand against hers and she took it gratefully, leaning on him as they boarded the canoe. 

“Might I ask where y’all from?” asked Dock, churning through the thick gunk. 

“Uh, the Earth Kingdom colonies,” said Katara. 

“Colonials, eh? You’re a long way from home!”

“Roadtrip,” Zuko said roughly. 

“Ohh, roadtrip! I’ve never been out of Jang Hui myself. This ol’ river town has always been my home!”

“Why do you live all the way out in the water?” Katara questioned. 

“Why, we’re a fishing town! Or we were, before the factory moved in. Army makes their metal here. Moved in a few years ago and started gunking up our river. Since then our village has struggled to survive.”

Zuko glanced to Sokka, who seemed to have the same thought: take down the factory where the metal is produced, deal a major blow to weapons manufacturing. 

“So, the army produces their metal here?” Sokka asked, his voice quivering in its nonchalant tone.

“Most of it, yep! And don’t get me wrong, I’m all for helping the war effort, but it pains me to see so many of our citizens falling ill ‘cause of all this gunk. And we can’t clean it, ‘cause it’ll just get gunked up again!”

They pulled up at the dock. “Thanks for the ride!” Aang called, gracefully exiting the boat. Toph leaned on Zuko and continued to clutch his arm on the wooden surface. The man tipped his hat. 

“My pleasure!”

“Look at this place,” Katara murmured, holding her hand to wear her mother’s necklace once hung from her neck. “It’s terrible.”

She wasn’t wrong. The villagers drifted through the floating town, their skin translucent and delicate, eyebags hanging dark and low, bones for wrists and sticks for fingers. Greasy, dirt-smudged rags hung from worn-out shoulders, stringy hair hid dull eyes. They reminded Zuko of the other prisoners in the work camps, but these people were living freely, albeit under a cold industrial thumb.

“What do they look like?” Toph whispered.

“Like ghosts,” Zuko replied. Toph was silent. 

“We have to do something,” Katara continued mournfully. Sokka shook his head. 

“Katara, no. We can’t waste our time here. We have a bigger mission ahead of us. These people are on their own.” Zuko understood his words, but both he and Katara bristled. 

“How could you be so heartless?” Katara hissed. “These people are starving! We have to help!”

“Look Katara, I care about them as much as you do, but there are more important things to focus on. I’m just being realistic. We’ll be helping all of them by taking out the Fire Lord.”

“Hey, dumbass,” Toph snapped, whipping her head to face Sokka, “You might want to lower your voice when you’re talking about taking out the Fire Lord in a Fire Nation town.”

“Er. Right. Katara, be reasonable.”

“C’mon guys,” Aang said. “Sokka’s right. I wish we could stay and help but… there’s no time. The mission has to come first.”

Katara looked down. “Yeah,” she said. “I know.”

They drifted through the stalls, the logs underfoot occasionally waterlogged and nearly rotting away. Aang started to enter a stall but Zuko grabbed his shirt, shook his head, and brought his hands together in the traditional merchant-greeting-pose. Aang grinned and nodded, but the merchant popped up from under the counter and greeted them in before they asked for permission.

“Welcome, travelers,” he greeted. 

“Hey, you look a lot like Dock,” Sokka said with a laugh. “You just have a different hat.” The man smiled. 

“Dock’s my twin brother! I’m Xu. Please, I welcome you into my shop. What interests you?”

“Do you sell any food?” Katara asked. Xu nodded and pulled out a soggy crate filled with… three smelly fish and a few clams leaking mucus. Zuko tried to stifle his gag; it would’ve seemed disrespectful that they were disgracing the man’s only produce, but Xu looked like he was in agreement. 

“The pollution really messed with the sealife,” he said, gesturing to the contents in the crate. “I’m sorry it’s not the best, but it’s all I’ve got. Tell you what - you buy three fish and I’ll throw in a free clam!”

“Deal,” Sokka replied. He pulled out a few copper coins and slid it across the counter. 

“Oh, I don’t need that much.”

“Keep the change,” Katara insisted, before Sokka could snatch any coins back. Xu smiled. 

“Thank you, young lady. May the Painted Lady bless you!”

Zuko froze. 

“I’m sorry - the Painted Lady?” Katara echoed. Xu nodded. 

“The great protector of our village and the Jang Hui river.” He pulled out a figurine from under the stall. 

“Seems like she’s doing a great job,” Toph muttered. Zuko jabbed her side, but Xu’s smile only flickered faintly and he looked away, eyes downcast. 

“She’s been gone a while,” he admitted, “But nevertheless, she is our patron spirit. We continue to love and worship her and… pray she returns soon.” 

“What a nice sentiment,” Zuko growled, “But we’ll be going now. Can your brother give us a lift?”

Xu nodded and disappeared into the back. Katara whirled on Zuko. 

“Don’t be disrespectful,” she huffed. Zuko rolled his eyes. 

“These people are waiting for a spirit tale to come and help them,” he snapped, “Instead of trying to help themselves. That factory is the source of all their problems. Take it down and, well.” He shrugged. Katara scoffed. 

“Hope is what is keeping these people going,” she shot back. 

“Hope is for cowards,” he snarled. Dock emerged from the stall, still looking remarkably similar to Xu. 

“Hello travelers! I heard you need a ride back. Hop on!”

As they were leaving, Zuko caught sight of Katara offering one of their fish wrapped in parchment to a small, skeleton-like boy, who was clutching a figurine of the Painted Lady. He shook his head and helped Toph into the boat. 

Zuko hoped the fire would burn any remaining muck off the fish, but to no luck. It was tough, stringy, and tasted like mud on his tongue. He gave the rest of his small portion (Sokka wasn’t happy when he found out Katara gave one of the fish to a villager, so he deliberately cut all their portions to the smallest possible size) to Toph, who devoured it with no problem. 

“That little detour cost us a whole day,” Sokka complained, chewing on his fish-on-a-stick. “I’m gonna have to redo our whole schedule. We’ll have to wake up forty-five minutes early, at least. Everyone’s getting up when Zuko gets up.” Zuko allowed a small smile. 

“I’m not waking up as early as a firebender!” Toph burst out. “I need my beauty sleep!”

“What beauty?” Katara mused. A pebble hit her upside the head. “Ow!”

“Shut it, Sugar Queen!”

“You know I’m lying.”

“...Hmph.”

“Yeah,” said Aang. “I’m the Avatar, I need to be well-rested!”

“Waking up at sunrise will be good for you,” Zuko said smirking at Aang’s flabbergasted reaction. “You need to get started on your firebending training as soon as possible.”

Aang frowned and stared into the fire. An orange glow flickered across his face and Zuko felt his heart sink at his delayed and disheartening reaction. “Right,” Aang mumbled. Sokka and Katara were both quiet, Toph: blinking, looking as confused as Zuko felt. Sokka cleared his throat. 

“Anyways… the schedule.”

“I just hate leaving those people helpless,” Katara interrupted, throwing her fish-on-a-stick to the ground. Momo snatched it up and scampered up a nearby tree. Sokka watched it go, face falling. “I can’t - I hate turning my back on people who need me.”

“Katara, you’re not turning your back on anyone,” Sokka sighed. “If anything, the longer we stay in one place, the more we put the invasion in jeopardy, which would mean turning our backs on the world. These people have survived this long, they can survive a few more months. Besides, they have their Painted Lady, or whatever.”

Zuko snorted. 

“You really don’t believe in her?” Aang asked. Zuko shook his head.

“Why should I?”

“Well… I’m the Avatar, so I can confirm that the spirits are real.”

“It’s all bullshit,” Zuko insisted. “If a spirit’s purpose is to help people, but they obviously never do, why should I - why should anyone believe in them, or worship them, or hope that everything will be good if they just hold out hope?”

“Hope is powerful,” Katara argued. “It does more good than it does harm.”

“Hope doesn’t put food on the table, or cure the sick,” Zuko retorted. He raised his hands at Aang. “But whatever, O Great Bridge. If the spirits are real, I won’t argue with you. But they’re certainly not around to help us.”

Aang opened his mouth to reply. He closed it. 

“I’ve never heard of the Painted Lady before,” he finally said. “Is it a Fire Nation spirit?”

Zuko looked into the fire - its orange, yellow and red waves and a flicker of blue in the center. Spirits aren’t real, Azula taunted him, And if they are, they certainly wouldn’t help you. 

“Agni, the spirit of the sun, the source of our strength,” Zuko began, “He’s kind of like… the father of all the other spirits in the Fire Nation. He’s the brother to Tui, the spirit of the moon -”

“Not anymore,” Sokka mumbled. 

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Um… and Tui is the mother of the spirits of the Water Tribe, in union with La, spirit of the sea. One of Agni’s children is Mamoru Sha, the Great Protector of our people. People pray to her in times of extreme duress - war, sickness, and, um, other stuff. But most villages or cities have their own patron saints, almost like branches of Mamoru Sha, or descendents of Agni blessed into spirithood. The Painted Lady is a river spirit for the Fire Nation, but she is also the protector of Jang Tui. I don’t know how the Painted Lady came to be a spirit, but I heard a lot of stories about the protector of a village called Chashu. A woman named Iyonu lived in this village centuries ago, before the first Avatar, even. In that time, the Fire Nation was made of tribes, constantly at war with each other. My country was plagued with death, disease, and nonstop battle. Iyonu didn’t have anything, really, just the small farm she tended to, her children, and her husband, who was away fighting for their tribe. She was devoted to Agni in every way and even gave a third of her harvest away in sacrifice to him every season. But the war soon came to Chashu. They took her wheat, her cows, her home. She was left alone on the street, in the mud, with her children.”

“That’s terrible,” Katara whispered, red and orange glowing in her round eyes. 

“But she kept praying to Agni. She kept sacrificing her portions of food to him, even when she was starving. She was called a fool by the enemy tribe. They tormented her, tortured her, asked her… asked her if Agni would save her children. But as her children’s bodies floated away down the river, she continued to pray. Her village burned to the ground. She prayed. The rest of her friends and family were slaughtered. She prayed. She was the last living soul in Chashu, even the enemy soldiers had deserted it - but she remained. She died on her knees in front of a makeshift alter. Thus, Mamoru Sha - or Agni, it depends who’s telling the story - made her into an eternal spirit, to forever watch over and protect the people of her village as they repopulated. 

“My mother used to tell me spirit stories,” Zuko said, his voice a hushed whisper. “I think she just wanted me to remain devoted to Agni, or whatever. My father or sister never really bothered with it.”

“That’s a nice story,” Katara said gently. “And it proves my point. Iyonu held out hope, even when she didn’t have anything.”

Zuko scowled. He kicked dirt into the fire and its flames lessened. “They don’t tell you about how war in Chashu and the other tribes continued. How women kept losing their children. How Iyonu’s story happened over and over again, even happened over and over again in Chashu, and no one came to help them. Spirit tales are meant to keep people complacent in their suffering,” he spat. “There’s no use waiting for them to help you.”

“And on that note,” Sokka said, standing and kicking more dirt to kill the fire, “We should get to bed. We’re waking up early in the morning, gang, don’t forget!”

Zuko was awake when Katara got up. He waited a moment to make sure what she was doing, but it became clear when she smeared red berries as face paint across her cheeks to replicate the figurine of the Painted Lady. He grabbed his Dao swords before approaching her. 

“You’re not stopping me,” she hissed when she saw him come up behind her. Zuko gestured to his all-black attire and hood. 

“Spirits don’t help people,” he said quietly. “People help people.”

She paused, shock spreading through her features. Then she nodded sharply. “I’m going to heal their sick,” she said. “You -”

“I’m sure there’s plenty of food in the factory,” he said. She grinned. 

“Perfect.”

It was easy enough to get inside the factory. They wouldn’t suspect any frail villager getting past their defenses, so the number of guards was low - probably too low for a factory that the army is depending on. He climbed through the massive sewer system that emptied into the river, trudging through the slush up the pipes and into the main industrial network. The workers all lived on-site, so the kitchen would be near the sleeping quarters. He slipped through the vent system and crawled above sleeping bodies.

The kitchen was better stocked than he had hoped. Slabs of raw meat sat chilled in ice, bunches of fruit hung from hooks, bags of grains sat slumped over on countertops. Zuko opened his empty sandbag and began throwing anything and everything in. Hopefully it would all be attributed to a gluttonous worker or an oversized, rabid rat-squirrel. The workers and soldiers must be stuffing their face everyday while churning out all that shit into the river. His knuckles tightened on the hilts of his blades just thinking about it. 

He met Katara at the docks, who spread the food around the village dressed as the Painted Lady. He hung back, hiding under the wood, and dropped down onto an ice platform she used to propel them back to camp. The sky’s blue was now fringing on a light pink at the horizon - if Sokka followed through with his own orders, he would be up soon. Silently, Katara washed the rest of the gunk off his clothing and the makeup off her face, and he steamed himself dry. Her eyebrows raised at the move, probably because she’d only ever witnessed firebenders in combat, but she didn’t comment. Appa was fed purple berries, and before Katara slipped back into her sleeping roll, he caught her arm. 

“That factory needs to go down,” he said quietly. She nodded in affirmation.

The others just simply did not wake at sunrise. When Sokka did open his eyes, he sleepily chastised Zuko for not waking him up earlier. Everyone was getting ready when Katara called Aang over.

“Aang? I think Appa’s sick!”

“What!? That’s awful!” Sokka shrieked, running up to the immobile sky bison. Katara smirked. 

“Gosh, Sokka, I didn’t realize you cared so much.”

“Of course I care! This will delay our - I mean, I care very much about the wellbeing of our giant furry friend.” And he stroked Appa’s nose to emphasize his point. Aang bounded over with a frown and tilted his head at Appa’s droopy, purple tongue. 

“He must’ve gotten sick from all that polluted water,” Toph said. Aang sighed. 

“Yeah, that doesn’t look good. Katara, can you heal him?”

“It looks like he needs some medicine. I don’t think I can heal a sky bison. The town probably has the herbs we need.”

Sokka let out a long groan and dropped his pack back onto the ground. “I’ll fix the schedule,” he muttered, trudging off with the parchment.

They grabbed another ride into town from Dock, who whistled happily as he rowed. “You seem in a good mood,” Aang commented. Dock nodded and laughed. 

“Oh, yes! The Painted Lady visited our village last night! She delivered food and healed our sick. I always knew she would return!”

Zuko swallowed tightly, but Katara continued on with the act. “That’s amazing!” she exclaimed. “See Zu - see Lee? Spirits are helpful.”

“Hoorah,” Zuko muttered. They climbed onto the docks, Toph gripping Zuko’s arm. Already, Zuko saw the difference he and Katara made: children jumped from platform to platform, playing with bouncing balls, neighbors were delivering stew to neighbors, and the men didn’t seem too discouraged as their nets came up empty.  

“We can’t stay long,” Sokka said, speaking to Dock. “We’re just looking for medicine for our sick friend.”

Dock shook his head sympathetically. “Sorry travelers,” he replied. “All our medicine goes straight to the factory. We were so lucky the Painted Lady blessed us with her healing abilities, or else some of our people wouldn’t of survived another night!”

“Looks like we’ll have to stay another day,” Katara said, patting Sokka on the shoulder. He hmphed in frustration. 

“Do you have any more food?” he grumbled. 

“C’mon, let’s go exploring,” Toph said, yanking on Zuko’s sleeve. 

“Exploring? You can’t see anything,” he said pointedly. She rolled her eyes. 

“Come on, Sparky, just show me around, will ya?”

“Whatever.”

They drifted through the village comprised of wooden platforms and bridges, Zuko quietly describing the scenery to Toph under his breath. As they headed from one platform to another, one of the only muscular-looking men slammed into Zuko’s shoulder as he passed, causing Zuko to stumble and Toph to lose her footing. 

“Watch it,” she snapped at the man. 

“Shut up,” Zuko hissed, blinking up at the man slowly turning around to face him. 

“ You watch it,” he growled. 

“She’s blind,” Zuko said quickly. 

“But at least I’m not a clumsy dolt!”

“What did you say to me?”

“You heard me.”

“Toph, shut up,” Zuko seethed. The man grinned, all tooth. 

“Listen to your friend,” he told them. 

“He’s not my - you watch your mouth, big guy.”

“I should say the same to you. We don’t take kindly to strangers.”

“Oh yeah? Cause it sure seems like you need the business!”

“Sorry about her,” Zuko babbled, pushing Toph behind him and keeping his hood low, hiding his eyes. Keep your head down, keep out of trouble. “She compensates for her blindness with a loud mouth.” He tried not to flinch at the jab in his side. 

“And what about you, boy?” asked the man, lowering his head in an attempt to look Zuko in the eyes - well, eye. “Looks like you can’t see very well either. Scared of showing your face? Gee, the colonies sure are churning out the rejects. A half-blind rat and his pet dirt mole, both lacking respect.” He glanced down at Zuko’s wrists, and the fading burn scars that wrapped around his skin. “Looks like someone else already failed to teach it to you,” he said with a smirk. 

Blood rushed in Zuko’s ears. He heard Katara and the others approaching from behind, asking what was going on, and he felt Toph shift beside him, ready to fight, but he was already moving before she could - feinting a jab to the right, grabbing the man’s wrist as the man lunged to counterattack and yanking him forward, then hooking his leg behind the back of his knee and flipping him into the river beneath their feet with a splash. 

“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing Toph’s hand. “I’m hungry.”

“What the fuck was that?” Katara snarled, turning on Zuko once they arrived back at their campsite. “I thought we were supposed to keep our head down, not throw one of the villagers into the water!”

“He was being disrespectful,” Zuko responded quietly, taking his hood off and throwing the eyepatch to the ground. 

“Towards you?”

“And towards Toph!”

“I can defend myself,” Toph shouted, stomping away from Zuko. “I’m not helpless!” 

“Oh really?” Zuko growled. “How would a tiny, blind, non bending colonial girl defend herself? You were about to strike him, Toph. I’m the one who’s trying to keep us under a low profile, not the one desperate to reveal we’re all superpowered child soldiers!” 

“Okay, you guys are both in the wrong,” Aang said, stepping between Zuko and Toph. “Toph, you shouldn’t have kept talking back, and Zuko, you shouldn’t have flipped that guy into the water, no matter what he said.”

“I don’t know,” Sokka mused. “Zuko said respect is really big in the Fire Nation. So I think the issue here is… who disrespected who first?”

“Toph called him a dolt,” Zuko yelled. 

“He called me a dirt mole and Zuko a half-blind rat!” 

“Hold on, he called you guys what?” Katara fumed, blinking rapidly. 

“And he said someone already failed at teaching Zuko respect!” Toph continued. 

“Shut up!” Zuko hissed. 

“Why would he say that?” Aang questioned. 

Zuko ducked his head, face burning. “He saw the burn scars on my wrist,” he muttered. “Which were pretty obviously inflicted by someone else.”

“...Oh.”

“I’m with Zuko here,” Sokka said. “Throwing him into the water was completely justified.” 

“I probably shouldn’t go back into town,” Zuko said. “He’ll challenge me to an Agni Kai.”

Sokka tilted his head. “An Agni what-now?”

Zuko grimaced. “It’s a fire duel. The ultimate test of honor. Kind of the final say in a dispute, but a lot more serious.”

“Appa should be getting better soon anyways,” Katara said breezily. “C’mon everyone. I’ll start dinner.”

Toph trudged up to Zuko a few minutes later, her sulking period having ended. 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” she whispered. “I know it would’ve been really stupid to fight him. And I couldn’t even see -”

“Don’t worry about it,” Zuko said quickly. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Katara and Zuko did it again the next night. Zuko raided the factory for medicine and food while Katara healed more sick villagers. 

“We’ll take the factory down tomorrow night,” she whispered breathlessly. Zuko nodded, and they crept back into bed. 

Zuko and Toph both stayed back at the campsite the next day, as Appa’s tongue was still purple and they had quickly run out of two-headed fish. Toph didn’t want to do much besides practicing sandbending behind a large bush on the shoreline, which was completely fine with Zuko. He sat on a sunkissed rock and meditated until the others got back. 

The sun soon sank into the horizon, Toph, Sokka and Aang fell into deep sleeps, and Zuko and Katara slowly rose from their bedrolls. Zuko wasn’t exactly sure what the plan for taking the factory down was, but he figured he could get them both in and they could use their bending to figure it out. But then there was a young Avatar bounding after Katara, with Zuko staying hidden close behind, jumping silently from one bridge to the other as they crossed through the village. 

“You actually look… really familiar,” Aang said, peeking under Katara’s wide canonical hat. He gasped. “Katara?”

“And Zuko too,” she said meekly. Zuko rolled his eyes and emerged out of the shadows. Aang frowned. 

“I don’t understand. You’re the Painted Lady? It was you guys, the whole time? Was Appa even sick?”

“Probably sick of the berries we fed him,” Zuko muttered. 

“Aang, we had to do something,” Katara said gently. “I couldn’t just let these people suffer. I figured becoming the Painted Lady would be easiest, and then Zuko joined in. I’m sorry we lied to you, but -”

“No, I think it’s cool!” Aang exclaimed. “You guys are like secret heroes?”

“Really?” Zuko whispered, dumbfounded. “You forgive us? Just like that, for lying to you?”

Aang shrugged. “It was all for the right reasons,” he said easily. “What are you doing tonight? Can I help?”

Katara looked at Zuko. He gave a halfhearted shrug, as if to say why the hell not. 

“We’re taking down the factory,” she said, smiling on behalf of herself. “It’ll help the river and the people.”

“That’s awesome! Let’s do it!”

“Everyone in this group is so stupid,” Zuko groaned. 

“That includes you now, Zuko!” Aang sang. 

“I tried not to think about it.” 

Aang and Katara took care of most of it while Zuko stood guard. They cut the chains holding up big barrels of magma, pouring it onto the factory floor. Aang broke through the pipe system with earthbending and Katara sent a huge wave crashing through the windows, filling up the main floor quickly. Zuko led them back out through the excretory pipe system and Katara coasted them back to the campsite on a sheet of ice, with Aang laughing all the way as the factory exploded from within. Zuko tried not to think of the sleeping workers. A necessary price to pay, he reminded himself. 

“Shhh,” Katara giggled. “We can’t wake Sokka!”

“Oh, Sokka is already awake,” said Sokka, stepping out in front of them with his arms crossed. Aang gulped. 

“Sokka!” Katara greeted with a strained smile. “We’re just heading back from our morning walk!”

“Morning walk, huh? With Zuko dressed all in black and carrying his swords, and you with spirit makeup smeared all over your face? We know you guys have been sneaking out at night -”

“Just Zuko and Katara,” Aang mumbled. 

“And we know Appa isn’t sick, his tongue is just dyed purple from those berries!” And Toph beside him stuck out her purple tongue as evidence. Zuko considered denying it, but Katara already tore off her hat and slammed it into the ground. 

“So what?” she snapped. “Sokka, those people needed my help. How can Zuko be less dense than you?

“Ouch?” Zuko said, unsure if that was supposed to be a compliment or not. 

“Katara, you’ve put our whole mission in jeopardy,” Sokka hissed. “We’re leaving. Now.”

“Fine,” Katara retorted. “We destroyed the factory anyways. I’m done here.”

It took Sokka a moment to process what she just said. “You destroyed the - are you crazy?” he shrieked, waving his arms around wildly. Toph stepped back to avoid being slapped in the face. “Katara, the soldiers are going to blame the villagers! They’re probably already on their way!”

A rock of dread slammed against Zuko’s gut, nearly causing him to gag in horror. 

“Oh, no,” he murmured, eyes widening in horror. “Fuck.” Fuck. “Sokka’s right.”

“Way to go guys,” Toph said dryly. 

“I couldn't just stand back and let the Fire Nation destroy their home!” Katara cried out. “Sokka, I can never - I can never just stand back when people need me. We have to stop them!”

“Katara, they are the Fire Nation,” Sokka pleaded. “It’s too dangerous.” 

Zuko unsheathed his blades without another thought and pulled his black hood back over his eyes. “I’m going to defend my people,” he said. “You can join me, if you’d like.”

Toph cracked her knuckles. “I’m in.”

“It’s our responsibility,” Aang said gently. 

“Please Sokka,” Katara said. “I need you.”

A loud groan escaped Sokka’s mouth. It carried over for a few moments until he finally paused for breath and grumbled, 

“Oh, whatever. Okay. Here’s the plan.”

The shaking fear in the soldiers voices as they realized what was emerging out of the fog was enough to make Zuko chuckle. 

“It’s the Painted Lady!” one of the soldiers cried out, stumbling back from the edge of the dock.

“Impossible!” the commander hissed. “Stand your ground! Do - do something!”

The pounding of a boulder in the distance grew louder, and Appa’s roaring echoed through the valley ominously. The Painted Lady became visible, surrounded by mist, gliding over the water, advancing towards the village.

“She’s real!” a little boy whispered, awe-struck. 

“She’s real!” a soldier wailed, fear-stricken. Those who remained on the platforms turned to run off - this was Zuko’s cue. He crept up from under the docks, crawling onto the platform behind the soldiers, trapping their exit. 

“A demon!” shrieked a soldier. “An evil spirit!” 

“Fight, you cowards!” the commander shouted. He shifted into a stance and shot a plume of fire at Katara. From below her, Aang released a gust of wind that propelled her skyward, and a torrent of water drenched the commander’s boots. Zuko shifted his attention to the three soldiers in front of him - all firebenders. He readied his Dao swords and waited for them to strike first. A lady soldier rushed him, sending an arc of fire meant to cut through his neck. He swiped through the flame with a blade, dissipating it into thin air. The other two attacked at once in a flurry of uncoordinated fire fists and kicks. He gathered their fire into his own wreath strengthened by his swords in an X formation and struck the fire to the ground. The three soldiers, trembling in their boots with fists alight, backed up against the commander. Katara raised a hand and a sweep of murky water washed the four of them off the docks. 

“Leave this village,” she said, her voice booming, “And never come back.”

The villagers rushed up against her, skirting past Zuko and cheering for the Painted Lady. 

“I knew you’d come!” one little boy beamed. 

“Thank you, Painted Lady,” said Dock, coming up next to Katara. Zuko sighed in exasperation when he felt the pause and the gears clicking in the man’s brain. “Wait a minute. You’re not our Painted Lady! You’re one of the travelers!” 

“You’re not our Painted Lady! You’re a waterbender!”

“Imposter!”

“How dare you act like our guardian spirit!” 

The crowd was getting closer, and Katara seemed to be at a loss for words. Zuko rolled his eyes, tugged his hood off and wrapped his blades in flames, clearing a path for him to get to Katara. He stood in front of her in a defensive stance. 

“Who cares if she’s a waterbender,” he snapped. The crowd backed up cautiously. “She still saved all of you. Without her, you all would be dead within a month! You should be on your knees, thanking her!” 

“But she -”

“I shouldn’t of tricked you,” Katara said. She placed a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. His blades grew cool again. “That was wrong of me. I shouldn’t have acted like someone I’m not. I just wanted to help. It doesn’t matter if the Painted Lady is real or not, because you all are real, and your problems are real, and this river was real. So please, if you won’t let me help you, please help yourselves.”

“Well, this river is pretty dirty,” Dock muttered. All of a sudden, Sokka ran up to Zuko’s side and whispered feverishly in his ear,

“Dude! Your face!”

“Shit,” Zuko hissed, but the man he had thrown into the river the other day was already advancing. 

“Hey!” he said. Zuko’s grip tightened on the hilt of his blades and Sokka stiffened beside him. “You’re - you’re Prince Zuko!”

Gasps rippled through the crowd like a wave breaking on a smooth shoreline. 

“I’m -” Zuko stammered. 

“He is!” another villager called. “I have the poster right here! He’s our Prince!”

“Our Prince!” the villagers murmured, and one by one they all fell to their knees, heads bowed, eyes on the ground. 

“You’ve returned,” the little boy exclaimed. “You’ve come back!”

“You’ve come back,” the villagers echoed.

“You liberated us!” said another. 

“You liberated us,” echoed the crowd. Sokka grabbed Zuko’s trembling hand, lowering Zuko’s blades for him.

“Your people,” he said quietly. Zuko swallowed thickly. Aang and Toph appeared next to him, Aang whispering to Toph under his breath the scene that was unfolding. 

“Please don’t tell my father,” Zuko finally managed, hating, hating, how his voice cracked like a foolish little boy, but the villagers - his people merely nodded their heads. “R-rise.”

They rose.

“I’m sorry I let this tyranny go on for so long,” he continued, voice catching. “But - I’m here now. I’m going to fix things.”

“Our Prince,” said a villager. 

“Our Prince,” the others agreed. It was silent for a few thick, palpable moments. Toph cleared her throat. 

“Let’s clean this river already.”

There was nothing left to rob, steal, or liberate that night, but Katara, Sokka and Zuko were still awake, standing on the edge of the shoreline while the fire died behind them. 

“Seems like you’re not so hated after all,” Sokka murmured, amused. 

“It’s just one crumbling village,” Zuko murmured. 

“It’s a start,” Katara offered. A smile flickered across his face, and he turned to climb into his bedroll, but Sokka’s gasp stopped him. 

“Is that - what’s coming towards us?”

An ethereal figure, wrapped in mist and swaddled in moonlight, rose from the clean river water, red paint donning its features. 

“The Painted Lady,” Katara whispered. Zuko felt his jaw drop open and his breath catch as the thing - as the spirit, as the Painted Lady slid across the water towards them, halting at the edge of the shoreline, just a few feet away. 

“Thank you,” she said to Katara. Her voice was like a breeze. If Zuko didn’t concentrate, he would forget the sound of it in only moments. She turned to Sokka. 

“The moon sends her love,” she said warmly, and then the Painted Lady looked to Zuko, her face softening. She held out a pale hand and stroked his cheek. Her cool skin felt like mother’s touch. 

“We have not abandoned you, little Ho-Musubi,” she told him. “We have not forgotten you.”

“My mother,” Zuko started to say, but then his words were trapped in the back of his throat, and the mist had vanished and the Painted Lady was gone. 

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hello everyone! just gonna post a short update here that i'll delete once i get the new chapter up. 

i haven't abandoned this fic! it took me a week to really get started on Sokka's Master and then i went on a (social-distanced) vacation for a week, which meant no writing. i'll try to get the new chapter up by Friday at the latest! and i promise you, the Beach will be very satisfying (i hope). think: the Fire Nation kids' revelations on Ember Island but with the gaang. 

apologies that it's taking so long. anyways, i hope you all still enjoy this fic. i've also been working on some modern highschool au zukka ideas lmao, my favorite trope rn. if y'all would like to see that just lemme know:)

ok, bye! 

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Has it been exactly five years since this fic updated? Yes. Have I recently gotten back into a Zuko kick and remembered how much I love writing him? Also yes. So, there is only one logical thing to do next: rewrite! You heard me correctly. A rewrite of agni has (not) abandoned him is in the works! (As in, I've been binge writing thousands of words of Zuko angst, and I've barely made it to the second chapter.)

I'd like to think my writing has improved since 2020, and I've got a ton of ideas for this new rendition (think: Hakoda & Zuko; Earth Kingdom prisoner Zuko; VERY awkward Zuko; Zuko and the mortifying ordeal of being known by kids his own age for once; and Zuko's relentless quest to return home to his loving father who most definitely really wants him back and will be super proud of Zuko for infiltrating Team Avatar). The bones of the original fic will remain essentially the same, just wayyy more expanded upon and with a few tweaks.

You can subscribe to the series "Zuko and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad life" so you're alerted to the first chapter, which should be posted later this week! I want to churn out a few more chapters before I start regularly posting to keep myself accountable, butttt I don't have much else going on at the moment, so who knows how frequent the updates will be.

I am genuinely only motivated by comments (to everyone who has commented over the past five years -- I see you, I thank you, I adore you, you inspire me, and I APOLOGIZE for my complete radio silence, that's totally my bad), so please let me know if y'all are still interested in this fic and would read a rewrite.

I think that's all I wanted to say for now, but if you have questions, feel free to drop them below! I hope to see everyone again soon 😁 ok byeeee

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check it out here!

even if you're not continuing with the rewrite, I want to thank you guys so, SO much again for reading this version! and for those who expressed excitement for a rewrite in the comments of the last chapter, thank YOU! writing AHNAH is fun enough on its own, but I'm also writing for an audience, so I greatly appreciate hearing from you guys as much as possible :) ok goodbye (FOR REAL this time)