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Chapter Text

They had only been on Kyoshi Island for a few hours when disaster struck.

Maybe Sokka had been right to be so wary of that Fire Nation ship sailing beneath them. But Aang had argued that the ship wasn’t even going in their same direction, nor was it going toward the Southern Water Tribe.

That messenger hawk that flew from the ship probably had nothing to do with them, it was probably just a daily status report to their command tower.

Besides, there were the Southern Air Temples, and if the ship didn’t follow them then it meant that surely they didn’t even notice them.

Right?

Aang had thought so at least. Even when he had discovered… what remained of his people at the Southern Air Temple, he still believed that that ship hadn’t reported them, even if he knew they’d have to be more careful around those soldiers now.

They should have been more careful from the very start.

“Woah!” His staff spun in his hands as he dispersed yet another jet of flame, stepping backward haphazardly, only to have to slip around the post his back had hit. “Be careful—you’ll light something on fire!”

“That’s the goal.” The man’s voice was smooth as he continually advanced upon him. From the corner of his eye, Aang noticed Sokka and a Kyoshi Warrior struggling to fight one of the soldiers as a team, while Katara used her rudimentary waterbending to put out the fire on one of the houses while trying to avoid being burnt herself.

Aang ducked as a ball of fire sailed over his head and sent out an air blast to push the man back. Distance was always a good thing to have when someone was attacking you.

It was odd to fight with his airbending though. He had always been taught by the monks that his first response if anyone ever attacked him should be to run away, delaying only to grab anyone who might not be able to run themselves. Fleeing wasn’t cowardly, but a stance of its own, a way of expressing an unwillingness to engage in their violence.

All the combat forms he knew were archaic, relics from times before airbenders devoted themselves to peace and non-harm that had been incorporated into the thirty-fifth and thirty-sixth tiers of airbending.

Aang still hadn’t managed any of the thirty-sixth tier, but his air scooter had been deemed a unique enough move to grant him his tattoos.

The most painful day of his life and the proudest.

He peaked out from the rooftop he had jumped onto to avoid to soldier’s latest fire blast, frowning. The man was nowhere to be seen, and that in and of itself was concerning. He didn’t seem the type to just give up—

Katara’s startled shriek pierced the air and his blood stilled as his gaze landed on Katara held tightly in the sideburned soldier’s arms, his hand pressed to her throat as he stood behind her.

Gyatso’s skeleton flashed behind his eyes.

He couldn’t let someone else die for him—if only he had just stayed, maybe, maybe—

“Come now, Avatar. You have been content to let these people’s homes be destroyed as collateral, but surely you’re not willing to let me burn one of your companions?” The man’s eyes gleamed like the cobra-goose that had bitten him once when he was eight. “You need only allow my men to bring you onto our ship and we will leave these good people—and your friends—alone. On my honour as a Commander of the Fire Navy.”

Katara’s blue eyes were unreadable, or, well, not unreadable, but full of so many emotions that he didn’t know where to start. Fear and anger were the most prominent, but there was something more complex beneath.

Sokka ran toward the man from behind, but a different soldier tripped him and pinned him to the ground, her knee pressed to his back.

The air was still and silent as he jumped down from the roof, his staff strapped to his back and his hands held up beside his head.

“It’s okay! You don’t need to hurt them, just leave everyone alone. I’ll come with you.” He hoped he sounded more confident than he felt.

The first thing the monks taught them to do was to flee. But the second thing they taught, particularly if you couldn’t flee, was to surrender. No one with any self respect would kill someone that surrendered, particularly a child. And no nation would respect someone that killed someone who surrendered.

He swallowed thickly as the man—Commander Zhao, according to the other soldier’s response—ordered another soldier to cuff his hands in thick metal bands and bring him onto the ship.

A lot of those skeletons in the Southern Air Temple had been really small.

“Jian, go with him. Ensure he is well secured. Only then will the rest of us board the ship and set sail.”

“Yes, sir.”

He let the soldiers guide him onto the ship, his head hung low. He knew if he fought back in any way then they would probably take it out on Katara and Sokka, not to mention the entire village of Kyoshi Island.

All lives were of infinite value, according to the monks. To take one life was the same as to take hundreds, they were equally reprehensible crimes, punished with complete exile from their community. Aang knew that. And yet, he couldn’t allow himself to choose his infinite value over the infinite values of his friends, for however short a time he had known them, and the infinite values of everyone on Kyoshi Island.

The shackles in the ship’s jail cell clasped around each wrist and ankle separately, and Aang watched as the heavy iron door to his cell was locked with multiple different keys. He didn’t know much, but he knew he wouldn’t be getting out anytime soon.

And he knew that he had no way of knowing if Commander Zhao had kept his word, he could only hope that honour meant as much to the Fire Nation of today as it had a hundred years ago.

A hundred years ago…

It felt like only a few weeks (or was it months? Already, it began to blur together) ago that he had been laying on his bed, writing to Kuzon about finally getting his tattoos. He had begged the monks to be able to invite them, but Monk Tashi had put his foot down, saying that it was a sacred practice. Kuzon was not spiritual enough to attend—something that was apparent to even Aang—and Anzu…

The monks had just shared a look before denying his second friend as well. He hadn’t even bothered to ask about Bumi after such a staunch rejection. If Anzu, who he sometimes swore would be the first nonbender to gain bending through mere strength of spirit and spiritual devotion, was rejected, then Bumi most certainly would be.

He began to regret all the sweets he had eaten on Kyoshi Island as his stomach twisted, both from the lurch of the ship as they set sail and from the thoughts that now invaded his mind.

Kuzon and Anzu had been Fire Nation. They had even been nobility, though he had never quite understood how rank like that worked. As far as he knew, Anzu was higher ranked than Kuzon and had even more money than him, if the way she casually paid for everything they wanted on their travels was anything to go by. Had they known what would happen to his people? They couldn’t have, they were just kids, but what about their family? Anzu mentioned that her brother, Kirin, was a firebender and in the military. Could he have been one of the people resulting in all those tiny skeletons?

Could he have killed Gyatso?

(Could he be one of those armoured skeletons scattered around his old teacher?)

He swallowed down the small amount of bile in his mouth, grimacing and squeezing his eyes shut. No, he decided. Anzu adored her brother. She spoke of him as though he were all of Agni’s light and warmth encapsulated in a single person. There was no way that someone she had loved so much could be capable of such great evil.

And yet, it answered nothing as to what had happened to his friends. There’s no way they would just stand by as their people killed his, was there? But what could they do, they were just kids, just like him? And if Sozin was willing to wipe out his people, it chilled him to think of what he’d do to two children brave enough to speak out against him.

He suddenly found himself hoping that they had stayed quiet. Stayed silent.

He couldn’t handle learning more people he loved died at the hands of a Fire Nation soldier.

His eyes snapped open again as the multiple locks were unlocked and a moment later Commander Zhao—that was his name, right?—stepped into the room.

“As promised, your friends and the Island of Kyoshi have been left as is.” Zhao inclined his head, his lips curled up into a smirk. “As for you, a letter has already been drafted and sent to the Fire Lord. You should be honoured—not many get the honour to meet Fire Lord Ozai face to face.”

The sweets he had been eating on Kyoshi Island mere hours ago churned in his stomach as he let his head hang down, his gaze trained on the floor. The way Zhao made it sound, it was an honour he wouldn’t be enjoying all that much.

“Of course, it’s quite the trip to the Royal Caldera. I will see you again before then, Avatar.” Zhao’s feet turned and a moment later the man was gone, followed by the clicks of the locks.

It would be nice, at least, to see the Fire Nation one last time before he died.

He wouldn’t make it to the Northern Water Tribe in this life, he knew that now. He wasn’t that naïve, though he was optimistic.

At least he knew he’d get there in his next, though it was still hard to get a grasp on the fact that he was the Avatar. No matter how right it felt in his soul.

“Let go of me!” Katara hissed as she tried to push her brother and that Kyoshi Warrior girl—Suki. She knew her name was Suki—off her as they finally put their differences aside and managed to work together.

Now if only it hadn’t been to hold her back.

“Katara, you can’t take that entire ship of soldiers!” Sokka said, wincing as she managed to hit him in the face with a whip of water. “We couldn’t even take them all with Aang—”

“And the Warriors.” Suki cut in, skillfully avoiding her squirming and tightening her grip.

“And the Warriors,” Sokka admitted after a moment. “If you go to try and save him, all that’s going to happen is they’ll capture you, probably Appa too. Then what? They have the last airbender, our last waterbender, and the last sky bison in existence. Just think!”

And she did think, didn’t he realize that? She thought enough to know that Aang would be brought to the Fire Lord and probably slaughtered at his feet, his body smouldering just like—

No.

Her eyes squeezed shut as they pricked with tears and she slumped into Sokka’s arms, Suki stepped away after it became clear that she wasn’t fighting anymore.

She couldn’t do anything.

All she ever did was stand by as the Fire Nation took people from her. First her mother, who law dead in front of her in their own home. Then her father, who said goodbye to her years ago and she hadn’t seen since, who couldn’t meet her eyes as she sobbed. Now Aang, who she had barely known, but had brought laughter and hope back to her life for the first time and years before being abruptly taken from her by yet another Fire Nation soldier.

“I need to be able to fight, Sokka.” She finally found her strength again. “I can’t just let them keep taking people from me.”

All her life, Sokka had been the one that protected her. He had taken the blame when one of their pranks had gone too far, he had pulled her from the water one time she stepped on some too-thin ice.

But Katara wasn’t an idiot, and she could see the patterns. She didn’t have many loved ones left, and since they had left Gran Gran back in the South Pole, that meant that Sokka would be the next to be taken from her.

And she couldn’t let that happen.

“I think that’s where I come in.” Suki said, her arms crossed over her chest with another Kyoshi Warrior standing beside her. “Oyaji has decided it’s too risky to host you two for much longer—Fire Nation soldiers aren’t well known for keeping their word. But we’re allowed to keep you until tomorrow evening. Let’s make the most of it!”

Sokka squeaked as Suki grabbed their hands and began dragging them to the recently extinguished training hall.

“Now begins your one-day training as a Kyoshi Warrior!”

Lightning hit the target with frightening precision as Zuko sketched out yet another move of the form he was supposed to be replicating before he was allowed to even run it cold.

“Very good, Princess Azula—”

“—Most of your lightning struck true—”

“—and yet some still strayed from its intended path.”

“You risk hitting an ally with the off branches.”

The way Lo and Li spoke, alternating every few words, never failed to confuse him for at least a moment before he wrapped his head around it. The women were older than Uncle, which meant they were probably old enough they say dragons growing up, yet they still had a vicious mischievous streak, if the way they refused to speak normally for even his father was anything to go by.

He sighed as his charcoal stick snapped from the pressure and he was forced to pinch the tip between his fingers once again to get a suitable tip to continue drawing.

Maybe he shouldn’t be putting this much effort into the anatomy of his sketch, but Master Piandao said that it was a waste to miss any opportunity for practice, and Zuko was one to agree. He wasn’t nearly so obsessive with training as Azula could be, but in turn he made every little part of his life into practice for something. Sketching lightningbending forms was simultaneously practice for his art, which was essential to being a good swordsman. And Zuko was not only a good swordsman, but a master, having been awarded the dual swords of Master Piandao’s late father, Lord Kuzon Oshiro. And that was in no small part because he turned his restless fidgeting into practicing his sword forms. Zuko got such a good mark on the National Exam because he memorized his favourite historical plays, which he would do to entertain himself during his morning firebending practice.

Azula worked hard, but so did Zuko, and he worked in a way that worked for him.

He hummed the music that went along with the final fight of Love Amongst the Dragons as he sketched in the circular threads of lightning and the way it burst from the bender’s—well, actually, his sketch showed Azula—fingertips.

“Prince Zuko, is that sketch finished yet?” He heard Lo—or was it Li—ask from where she sat with her sister under a shade tree as the autumn wind blew.

“You can’t rush perfection, Sifu.” He said, grinning up as her as Azula sighed audibly. “But yeah.”

“You act so much like your cousin,” The other said as she took the drawing, his heart swelling with pride at her words. “Perhaps enough to mask your true self.”

He stiffened slightly before pushing it off to shrug jovially. “If anyone looks at me and sees Lu, then they must need to be tested for glasses, Sifu.”

He couldn’t deny that he tried to mimic Lu Ten’s behaviour and way of dress just as much as Azula liked to mimic the way he wore his hair in his youth, and the tone of his voice, and their mother’s makeup. It had started as a way to remember him more than just pictures and old letters could do, then he had found that it made Jee laugh and made the other noble boys he saw at functions a little bit more friendly and less intimidated by him.

Why would he go back to his old ways after that? Besides, his mother was an actress, it was in his blood.

“Perhaps, Little Prince.” He flushed as he took the paper back from her wrinkled hands. The old nickname the palace guards had for him had never quite faded, and it seemed as though it had had a resurgence since Jee came to be the captain of his and Azula’s guard. “It is a perfect replication of the first—”

“—And most essential—”

“—lightningbending form, the Serpent’s Tail.”

“You may now begin running the forms cold alongside Princess Azula.”

He grinned and bowed quickly as he rolled the scroll—maybe he’d paint it later and gift it to his sister—and placed it with his things. He quickly went to take his place a few feet from his sister and caught her smile and nod before she made another attempt at striking the target.

“Your problem remains—”

“—Perhaps it is simply an issue of practice in lightning—”

“—or perhaps in directing unstable chi.”

Zuko took a few steps to the side as his sister proceeded to discuss her chi direction with the old nonbending masters, moving his arms in the vaguely unfamiliar circular patterns intrinsic to lightningbending.

Already, he could feel his chi stir inside him, even as he pressed it down. This was supposed to be a cold run for a reason—the first thing their father had stressed upon them was that lightning was volatile and dangerous, doubly so in an untrained user. Even he hesitated to stray beyond the single set of lightningbending forms he knew, and even Uncle admitted he only knew a few more forms than his brother, this chi having been deemed too “stable” by Princess Anzu to teach him anymore. And other than the Lightningbending Master herself, Uncle knew more than any other living person.

Though, while Azula was content to devour Anzu’s books on chi stability and bending theory, Zuko was more than happy just hearing her rambling summaries when she was finished. He felt like he understood it better that way anyway, since Azula already translated the complexity of the text into examples he could understand and latch to.

He let out a slow breath as he settled into the final stance of the form, able to feel his chi settling down in his chest once again before he returned to the starting position and ran through it again.

It was an hour later when Zuko finally finished his cool down stretches, though they weren’t the most necessary after having only run cold forms. The only sign that the training session had been difficult for his sister was the halo of frizz that had become of her normally orderly hair and the sheen of every bit of exposed skin despite the cool air.

Even still, she looked satisfied.

“I expect it to be only a few more weeks, a month at most, until I perfect the form.” Azula told him as they made their walk from the training grounds to their rooms, where Zuko could not wait to wash off the day’s grime before their evening meal.

“Yeah, well I expect only a day until I perfect lightningbending.” He responded in a perfect imitation of his sister’s voice, dodging the blast of fire from her fingertips with ease. “Seriously though, I could feel my chi stirring while running the forms cold, though I don’t know if that means it’ll be easier or harder than usual.”

Azula stared at him for a few moments, lingering outside her doorway. “You do have a lot of the signs of slightly unstable chi,” She said, more to herself before she walked into her room.

Zuko stared after her for a few more moments. “Whatever that means?” He muttered to himself as he continued to his room for a well needed wash.

After dressing himself in his evening clothes (though still not yet his sleep clothes), Zuko made his way to the private dining room his family took dinner in most nights. As usual, his mother and uncle were enthralled with a game of pai sho, with Kiyi sitting in Uncle’s lap as they tried to indoctrinate her into their odd obsession.

From the defeated look on his father’s face, they were winning.

“It’s okay, dad.” He said, patting his shoulder as he sat beside him and tried to sneak a peak over his shoulder. His Water was clearly improving, as he picked out the words “daughter”, “differences”, and Chief Arnook’s own name before the scroll snapped shut.

His father had already arranged for he and his sister to visit and meet their cousin Yue, Chief Arnook’s only child, next spring for the Northern Water Tribes Festival of Waning Darkness. It was similar to their Festival of Agni, both taking place on the Spring Equinox and celebrating the lengthening days, though apparently the Water Tribes put more emphasis on Tui than Agni. It was somewhat odd, but Uncle explained it as only natural, since waterbenders got their power from Tui just as much as they got theirs from Agni.

Zuko was excited, too, since they’d be getting to go practically alone. Sure, Jee would be going with them, as would Uncle, but the important part was that neither their mother nor father would be there. It was their first step towards adulthood, according to their father.

“Yet another lost to that game,” Zuko heard his father mutter under his breath as he handed him a cup of tea, already mixed with milk as he liked it. “Even your sister enjoys it, doesn’t she?”

“Indeed I do, Father.” Azula said as she strode into the room, her hair dry but hanging down her back rather than put up into her usual top knot. Zuko wasn’t exactly surprised, it was less common now, but his sister sometimes still liked to sit with their mother in the evenings and let her braid her hair for the evening instead of doing it herself. “It’s an excellent game, exercising both strategy and training your observational skills—”

“And it’s boring.” Zuko chimed in. “Just your type of game.”

His sister, demonstrating exceptional maturity, stuck her tongue out before walking over to peer at the ongoing game.

A moment later she returned and took the offered cup of tea, smoothly grabbing a spoonful of honey to stir in as she sat down.

Uncle barely made a fuss about their tea drinking habits nowadays, though he seemed determined to keep Kiyi from picking up their so-called bad habits.

“We should be able to eat soon, within three or four moves Mother will have won.”

“And I believe that’s game, Iroh.” Zuko could hear his mother’s voice float over from behind his sister as a smirk curled around her teacup.

“Not quite, dear Ursa.” His sister’s smirk fell and his own grew as he watched Uncle move a single piece. “I believe that’s game.”

Azula whipped around to look at the board as their mother sighed and rose from her spot with a smile as their uncle tickled Kiyi’s stomach while she giggled and squirmed. A moment later, his sister groaned and turned back around. “The White Lotus Gambit. Of course.”

“Don’t be so disappointed, Princess Azula.” Their uncle said as he set their sister down beside her then took his usual spot beside their mother. “Your mother did not notice it either and you are both quite keen players.”

She just huffed in response and crossed her arms loosely as the servants entered with their food.

“Perhaps after dinner I could show you some of my favourite moves, Azula?” Uncle suggested in an attempt to break through her silent treatment, holding a piece of komodo chicken in his chopsticks.

“…I suppose I’d like that. It would have to be after mother does my hair.”

“I cannot see why they can’t happen at once.” Their mother said with a soft smile, reaching out to brush his sister’s hair behind her ear. “And Kiyi can practice on Zuko.”

He choked slightly on his dumpling as his youngest sister laughed and clapped. “Great…” He muttered under his breath, drawing at least a short laugh from the rest of the table.

The things he did for family.

Chapter Text

“Good evening, Avatar.”

Aang rose his head to glare at Zhao as the man stalked in. He looked the same as he always did, brown hair with a dust of grey at his temples pulled back into a tight top knot, secured with a simple red band. His armour was well cared for and polished, and overall he looked like he took great pride in his role.

Aang already knew that he didn’t look anything like he normally did. The past few days (it couldn’t have been a week already, could it? Not for the first time since his imprisonment, Aang cursed the fact that airbenders didn’t have the intuitive understanding of time that firebenders did, or even the more loose general understanding of days that waterbenders had) had been rough. The first time a soldier had come into the room to feed him, he had blown him across the room.

The twisting pain of this stomach was enough to make him more compliant when the next soldier came hours later, allowing them to spoon feed him jook without complaint in order to quell the pain.

His orange and yellow clothes were the same that he had been wearing when he was escorted onto the ship and chained. Given the amount of jook that had spilt accidentally due to the awkwardness of being fed by someone else, they were in need of a good wash.

Not that that would ever happen.

The man made a quiet click with his mouth as he folded his hands behind his back and began to pace back and forth before him—more likely than not just to demonstrate his ability to do so. “You know, where I’m from it’s considered polite to say something in return when someone greets you. I understand that the Air Nation was without manners and class, so I will allow you to try again.” There was a pause before the man stopped. “Good evening, Avatar.”

“We have manners.” Aang muttered, staring at the man. What Air Nation was he talking about? It hadn’t been that long since he had spoken Fire, but maybe he was getting it wrong. Did Kuzon call the Earth Kingdom the Earth Nation? He couldn’t remember. “And I’ve been to the Fire Nation dozens of times! I know how to greet people in Fire formally, and informally, and everything in between—I don’t want to greet you!”

The chains chattered slightly as he got up from his sitting position—a struggle, since his hands were bound together, but doable—to try to stare the man in the eye.

Zhao’s expression didn’t even waver.

“I see… so you’re deliberately being trouble.” Zhao murmured as he broke their locked gazes and began to pace once more. “Tell me, Avatar, what do you think of our Most Glorious Nation?”

His words caught on his tongue.

How could he explain the light and laughter he felt in the Fire Nation, where it felt like there was a festival every other week in the summertime? How could he explain the exhilaration and pride of keeping a dragon egg safe from poachers with Kuzon and running from the irritated mother after he asked her for a ride?

Anzu’s father apparently had a dragon that she had been riding regularly since she was a little girl, so she wanted no part in their shenanigans that day, particularly given the summer heat and her lack of bending.

How could he explain the heat in his chest when the three of them raced in eating the spiciest vegetarian noodles they could find in some small marketplace in Kuzon’s hometown of Shu Jing? How could he explain the love he felt for his friends when Kuzon finished his noodles with a burp of fire, causing Anzu to shriek and push him to the ground as she yelled at him in a way that betrayed her desperately trying not to laugh?

How could he explain the emptiness, the denial of learning that the Fire Nation had apparently decided to wage war on the world only a few months after he had last visited? That they had beaten the once proud Southern Water Tribe into a scant few villages over the span of a hundred years of fighting? How could he explain the disconnect between what he knew and what he was told?

How could he explain the horror and fear of seeing Gyatso’s skeleton surrounded by red uniforms? How could he explain how it had felt to have it so concretely confirmed that Sokka and Katara weren’t lying? How could he explain the cries of both the Air Nomad and Fire Nation Avatars within him, crying alongside him?

How could he explain the confusion he still felt when thinking of his old friends? How could he explain his inability to connect the two together—the Fire Nation he thought he knew and the Fire Nation the world knew now?

He couldn’t.

The silence lingered in the air as Aang refused to answer and Zhao grew visibly more and more annoyed in his impatience.

“I see.” The soldier eventually spat, his eyebrows pressed down, darkening his bronze eyes further. “And here I was trying to impart some civility onto you. Regardless, I know how you must’ve found the Fire Nation—opulent, yes? Full of things for you to steal and bring back to your people, given you were all so opposed to hard work that you chose not to make your own things.” The man scoffed and left, his head held high.

Aang merely watched after him with wide eyes.

“Steal?” He muttered to himself, eyebrows furrowed as he sat back down with some difficulty.

“Why don’t you just fly off somewhere, thief! We don’t have anything you can take, and nobody has space for your nonbender rejects!”

Aang tried to look back at the yelling man they passed in the bustling marketplace, wondering what the commotion was. Maybe he could help? Monk Gyatso had always praised his ability to diffuse arguments between the younger boys. Anzu’s hand nudged him toward Kuzon though, a charming and odd smile he had never seen before on her face.

“Don’t worry, Aang, I’ll deal with this. Meet you at the bookstore!” Her voice was bright and chipper, a stark difference from her usual near-monotone as she nudged him once more before turning and beginning to walk toward the man, the smile falling slightly.

He tried to watch, but Kuzon just kept pushing him forward. “Come on! Anzu will kill us if we don’t find a seat in the store—they have the best cushions, apparently, but they get taken fast.”

At least Kuzon wasn’t acting oddly. It was enough to make him lean into the arm draped over him and laugh. “Aren’t you supposed to buy books in bookstores, not just read them inside?”

“Nah!”

By the time Anzu returned, her usual non-smile and tone were back. There was nothing to worry about.

Aang’s mouth went dry as he clung to the memory. It was barely there, it hadn’t been all that important of a day, and the man’s words hadn’t been all that important to him. Arguments were common to witness in the Fire Nation, they were the people of passion after all. Even Anzu and Kuzon got into minor squabbles regularly, despite Aang’s expert mediating skills.

But he hadn’t realized the man had been talking to him.

The “thief” hadn’t just been a customer that had walked out without paying once. It had been him, who had never stolen anything in his life.

Well, except Lhomi’s fifth tier scrolls that one time—but the other boy had been studying too hard; he needed to relax and play some games with them. And he had given them back after!

He chewed on his lower lip, hoping some soldier would come and feed him some jook soon. Anything to distract him from the realization that Anzu and Kuzon must’ve protected him from a lot of nasty words.

Why would they think he was a thief, much less all the Air Nomads?

Sure, they didn’t produce much for themselves, that was correct. The mountains they called home made a lot of things difficult to make. They had excellent fruit trees and they produced the best coffee beans in the world, but they just didn’t have enough flat land for things like growing wheat needed for flour, and trees needed for their furniture and gliders, though they had managed to make some decent rice farms. So of course they needed to get a lot of things from other nations.

And yes, the Air Nomads, while they had a currency, preferred not to use it.

But that didn’t mean they were thieves. They traded their coffee and fruit with the Earth Kingdom in exchange for wheat and wood. And they helped the Fire Nation divert storms that could be disastrous to their island chains and received high quality Fire Nation cloth dyed in yellows and oranges in return. The Air Nomads acted as the world’s messengers and guides in their travels, more than happy to deliver messages and packages between the other nation’s royal families, to whom travel was harder and more time consuming. They mapped the world so that when others did travel, they would be less likely to get lost. And Air Nomads were always willing to take some time from their own travels to escort another group of travellers to where they wanted to go.

“My people aren’t thieves!” He yelled, using his airbending to make sure the sound echoed throughout the ship as far as possible in the hopes that Zhao would hear.

Aang closed his eyes tightly and rested his forehead on his knees.

“We’re not thieves.” He whispered to himself. “And we’re not gone. We’re travellers, nomads. I can’t be the last one.”

He didn’t know if he could handle it.

Katara’s fingers were cramping from her tight grip on Appa’s reigns, but she couldn’t relax. They had to get to the North Pole as soon as possible, and that meant guiding Appa for as long as she could until she absolutely needed to sleep.

“Katara, we need to land.”

Not that Sokka was in line with that plan, apparently.

“We can’t.” Her lips pressed into a thin line. “If you’re hungry, there’s plenty of jerky and other dried foods in my pack. We need to get to the North Pole as soon as possible—if we can convince the Chief, then they might be able to send out a crew of waterbenders and save Aang before Zhao gets to the Fire Nation.” If she had even a chance to save him, she would do anything she could to do so.

“Katara!” She flinched and glanced back at her brother. He looked so much like mom sometimes, and he yelled in exactly the same way. “Can’t you tell that Appa is exhausted? He needs to sleep and eat just as much as we do, and he can’t do that while we’re flying. You need to land him.”

Her argument stilled in her throat as Appa dipped in the air slightly the moment she loosened her grip, clearly wanting to land. She swallowed thickly as she reached out to gently pat his head.

Aang wouldn’t like the way she was overworking his best friend.

“Okay. Come on, Appa, there’s a nice clearing over there. Let’s land and you can take a break.” She scratched his head gently and he let out a happy groan as he landed a bit more roughly than he usually did.

He really did need a break and it was all her fault.

No.

It was Zhao’s fault for taking Aang in the first place.

She tossed their bags down to Sokka so that she could take Appa’s saddle off of him. Thankfully, Aang had showed them both how to do so when they were at the Southern Air Temple, otherwise Appa would’ve had a rather uncomfortable break.

Sokka set to work building a fire—a warm meal did sound nice, even if Katara would need to carve out some time to make it—as Katara pulled one of the fans Suki had gifted her and Sokka off her belt, beginning to go through the drills the other girl had taught them.

It was nice of Suki to offer to train the two of them. Sokka had received some training from their dad before he left to fight and he had been teaching the younger boys in the tribe, but Katara only knew what fighting she had learnt from wrestling with her brother as a child. She didn’t know the first thing about redirecting an opponent’s energy in a fight like Suki mentioned, even if the other girl called her a natural at it.

Her waterbending was, at the moment, next to useless for fighting. It took too much focus and it wasn’t reliable.

She was hoping that being properly trained in the North Pole could fix that.

“Katara… why don’t you take a break too? When was the last time you ate?” She wished she could ignore Sokka just like she was ignoring her ongoing headache, but her brother’s hand on her shoulder made that impossible.

“I don’t know, Sokka. What I do know is that I can’t just let what happened on Kyoshi Island happen again.” She whipped around, glaring at him. “I was useless. Zhao just grabbed me and I couldn’t do anything, and now Aang is gone. We don’t know if they’re hurting him, if he’s still alive, if—”

“We don’t know anything, Katara, I know.” Sokka’s other hand came to rest on her other shoulder as he looked her in the eye. “And that sucks. You’re just a kid, you shouldn’t have to—”

“You’re a kid too.” She muttered, her lips pressed into a thin line. “You’re not even two years older than me, Sokka. Neither of us got the chance to do our ice dodging.”

Her brother looked away from her as he let out a shaky breath. “You’re right. We’re both kids, just like Aang. We shouldn’t have to be in this war. Aang shouldn’t be on that ship right now. But working yourself to the bone won’t help anything. You haven’t been eating right, sleeping right, taking care of yourself properly since Aang was taken. And I get it, but Dad told me to take care of you when he left. And that means making you take care of herself.”

Her eyes were watering, but she refused to let herself cry. Sokka was right, her head was pounding and it was already making it hard to guide Appa. How much would it hinder her in an actual fight?

“Okay.” She muttered, looking up at the sky. “I’ll make us some food, then all three of us can take a quick nap. We’re pretty well hidden here, so we should be okay. Flying at night is probably safer anyway, it makes it less likely for someone to see us.”

Sokka’s smile made up for the last time as he squeezed her shoulder. “That’s my sister. I hear a river—I’ll see if I can catch us a fish so we don’t have to break into our preserved meat stores so quickly.”

She nodded, opening her mouth before closing it as her words died on her lips.

There was no need for her to wait to add the fish, since they didn’t have a vegetarian in their group anymore.

No, not anymore. For now.

She began to set up her makeshift cooking space.

Soon, she would be back to making a vegetarian option to contrast her brother’s meat loving.

She would make sure of it.

Fire Lord Ozai was a busy man. Depending on the day, he had anywhere from two to a dozen different meetings to attend and preside over, dozens of ministers vying for his attention, and stacks upon stacks of paperwork to work through. That didn’t include his own firebending training to make sure he didn’t weaken from lack of practice, eating, and sleeping.

“Daddy!”

And it certainly didn’t include the sheer amount of time his family took up, not that he would ever sacrifice the joy that time brought him.

He leant down and swept his youngest into his arms as she ran toward him, struggling against her squirming in order to situate her properly against his chest.

“Hello, Kiyumi. What brings you to me, little lion-dove?” His nickname for her suited her well, in his opinion. She already had the bravery and attitude of a lion-dove, unafraid of anything, while also having their charisma that made them the favoured animal of children nationwide.

“Zuzu and Lala are busy with their lightningbending practice again.” His daughter’s pout told her everything he needed to know about her disappointment the fact that she hadn’t demonstrated any bending abilities yet, but the girl wasn’t even four years old yet. Azula had demonstrated her bending abilities at a younger age, but Zuko hadn’t. If Kiyumi was a firebender, she still had ages to show her first sparks.

And that was if their daughter was a firebender at all. He knew his wife was hoping the girl would take after her instead. There was only so much she could do to teach her airbending forms to their other two children, as they couldn’t airbend themselves. And his brother had commented on the possibility of Kiyumi taking after their mother, even if he admitted that her personality didn’t seem suited to it.

Personality didn’t make the bender, after all.

“And Uncle is busy writing to his old people friends.”

“I see,” He hummed, continuing his journey to his office, “so I’m next on your list of victims then?”

He wouldn’t deny to himself that Iroh’s actions were suspicious. It was one thing for a man to have regular correspondences with cousins on both sides of his family, even if he privately disliked even the thought of regularly talking to Piandao. It was another, still, for a man to write letters to his “former” best friend, a somewhat recently deserted admiral (“Oh, that had been drafted before he deserted.”) and another even still for him to write to the king of a nation they were actively at war with.

Ozai had turned a blind eye to that particular letter sitting on his brother’s desk as he continued his game of hide and seek with his youngest.

Iroh was suspicious, yes, but Ozai considered himself to be a good judge of people. Iroh had once been one of the few he couldn’t predict, but since Azula’s birth and his letter of weakness, they had grown close enough that Ozai now considered himself to know his brother quite well. And he knew that while his brother was no longer as loyal to the throne as he had once been, he was no less loyal to family.

Iroh’s son’s death was what had made his brother into who he was now. He was no longer the strong, proud Crown Prince of the Fire Nation he had once been, but there was enough of that Prince, of that burning fire and lightning in his chest for Ozai to know that Iroh would never let any harm come to his nieces and nephew.

And so Ozai knew that however treasonous his brother’s actions were, they would never amount to anything that could hurt him or his family.

If a little treason was what it took for his brother to fill the hole left by Lu Ten’s death, then Ozai would permit a little treason.

“Mhm!” His daughter shifted in his arms and laid her head on his shoulder. His inner fire told him that it was nearing midday already, so he had no doubt that she had truly sought him out to nap in his lap.

Just as her siblings had done at her age.

He settled into his seat at his desk, a child slowly dozing off in his lap as he looked over the latest snow-eagle delivered scroll.

Cousin.

I thank you for your advice, though I fear I cannot implement most of it. The role of women in our tribe seems to be vastly different from the role of women in the Fire Nation (though, from the way you put it, it seems as though your culture tends to separate nonbenders from benders more than it separates women and men). This includes not teaching our daughters to fight, as we view it against the natural order of things. Just as Tui watches as La sweeps the unworthy beneath his depths and heals the worthy, our women watch their brothers fight and prepare to heal them when they return. Sparring with Yue would not help to soothe her worries as she does not know how to fight in the first place—I fear that it would only exacerbate them by bringing her attention to her vulnerability.

Similarly, the differences in our understandings of the Great Spirits are interesting. I understand that you are not the most spiritual man, but even you cannot deny that the Spirits are heavily present in your life. If your brother’s anecdotes are to be believed, he is one of the few alive today to have visited the Spirit World, your children were born on the Winter Solstice, the Summer Solstice, and the New Year, three of the five most spiritually significant days of the year, and your parents were believed by many to have been the chosen of Tui and Agni to represent themselves on this plane.

A belief that I, myself, share, though forgive me in not detailing exactly why.

You may not acknowledge the Spirits in your own life, but you are still of Agni’s line. The Spirits will not ignore you, even if you ignore them.

Included with this correspondence is three amulets. It is our belief that children are particularly easily influenced by the spirits. It will not dissuade the Great Spirits, but there are many minor spirits that would wish to take advantage of those so tightly tied to the Spirit World as your must be.

My Yue wears hers constantly, as she is also closely connected to the Spirit World. I recommend you fashion a way for your children to keep theirs with them at all times.

The Winter Solstice approaches, and I doubt there will be time to send and receive another letter before then, so I wish your Zuko a happy birthday. The sixteenth is a spiritually and culturally significant birthday, at least here in the North Pole. It is the day in which a child begins the final transition into adulthood, and at any point after their sixteenth they can legally be married in the eyes of the spirits and the law. I’m aware that the Fire Nation has a similar marriage age, though I admit your attempts to explain adulthood in the eyes of the Fire Nation were enough to give me a headache.

It seems unnecessarily complicated.

I look forward to meeting your children for the Festival of Waning Darkness. My wife is also elated and had eagerly taken to adding beadwork and embroidery onto the clothing prepared for them, as even the Fire Nation’s best silk can be susceptible to the bitingly cold winds we get here. It is good for her to have something to focus on while on bed rest, since both her pregnancy with Yue and this pregnancy have been so hard on her.

May the Great Spirits guide you with a gentle hand,

Chief Arnook, Son of the late Chief Amaroq.

Ozai hummed as he examined the three amulets closely. There was only one difference between the three—the tiny inscription of each of his children’s names in the amulet’s ivory.

He looked to his daughter asleep in his lap, her hair messy as she made a small puddle of drool on his robes. It was something that should have annoyed him, but it just made a smile tug at his lips. Zuko and Azula would doubtlessly complain slightly, but he would ensure the three followed Arnook’s instructions.

His eyes drifted to the other letter on his desk, his lips turning downward at the thought of its contents.

His nephew’s widow was an intelligent young man, and as ambitious as Ozai himself. But there was some part of him that lacked the control so important of any firebender. The boy had been as any other as a child and teen, passionate and eager. That had been the cause of his lack of control, then.

But now?

Unlike most men who gained control as they aged, Zhao was losing what he had.

It had started with Lu Ten’s death, as it felt everything did. The boy had transferred to be under General Shu’s command, where he had gone on a long expedition, only to return with nigh impossible to get documents on Earth Kingdom strategies, the burning of stolen Fire Nation confidential documents, and the request to transfer to the Fire Navy.

It was a request Ozai had granted himself and accompanied with a promotion.

The man had been uncontrollable at first, pushing his crew and himself to the limit to the point where Ozai had received complaints from commanders and captains. But he ignored those complaints and over time Zhao mellowed under the tutelage of Admiral Jeong Jeong.

Only for his lack of control to come back worse than ever at the admiral’s defection, even if his decimation of a large section of the Earth Kingdom’s fleet has earned him a promotion to captain.

It was well known that if you were on Captain Zhao’s ship, you would be worked to the bone but that he would work himself even harder than he worked you. He was known for training from sunrise to sunset on multiple occasions, pushing his naturally powerful flame to burn hotter and brighter.

But he did not control it because he could not control himself.

It was when he issued Zhao the promotion to Commander that Ozai finally understood the meaning of flashfire.

He had first learnt the term when studying his father’s history to try and win him over, before Ozai had learnt that Fire Lord Azulon’s love was something he could not earn. Crown Prince Kirin had been a flashfire—one who got their fire before the age of four. Half of all flashfires were destined to burn bright but burn out, taking everyone around them out with themselves.

Kirin had not burnt out.

Azula was, technically, considered a flashfire. But it was now an archaic term, believed to be a way of supressing true talent.

Ozai looked at Zhao and understood.

Commander Zhang had preened at length about his son’s early flame, hot and powerful a few weeks before his fourth birthday. When Lu Ten had come home a few years later, babbling about his new school-appointed mentor and friend, Ozai had only thought it fitting.

Now, he only wondered if Lu Ten could’ve kept his lover from burning out, or if he would’ve burnt with him.

I believe I have found a way to break the stalemate with the Northern Water Tribe. I need only your permission and the authority, my Lord.

Ozai would give him the authority—Zhao deserved to finally outrank both his blood father and the one whose adoption papers were legal but had been buried deep so as to not ruin him military career—but he would not respond on the matter of permission.

Zhao was destined to burn out and take down everyone around him, but his nephew would never forgive him if he were the one to order that final blaze.

And while he may not have much faith in the Great Spirits, Ozai knew his nephew well enough to know he would find a way to come back from the dead in order to challenge him for the throne if it were his order that led his lover to join him in the Spirit World.

A soft yawn tore his attention from the paper scattered across his desk.

“Did you sleep well, Kiyumi?” He crooned, picking her up and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

The promotion could wait, he decided. The sun shone high in the sky, and his youngest was only just rousing herself from sleep.

It was the perfect time for some meditation with his wife.

Chapter Text

Aang’s cell wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, so when he did his dreams were few and mostly full of fear.

That made this new dream particularly odd.

At first, he thought he had just awakened, but the blue-tinged, translucent man sitting in front of him made him rethink that opinion.

“Hello, Aang.” His voice was quiet and calm. It had been too long already since Aang had heard someone speaking Air, even if his voice had an obviously Fire-tinged accent. “I’m—”

“Avatar Roku.” He whispered quietly, leaning in as much as he could, only to find he was unrestrained by the chains that bound him.

He glanced back at his body and quickly looked away. It was odd to be able to see yourself from the outside.

“I saw you in the Southern Air Temple.”

Avatar Roku smiled and inclined his head. “Gyatso laughed at me in the ceremony where they put that up—jokes on him, given they put a statue of him up not long after. Still, you may just call me Roku. Given we are both the Avatar, there’s no need to specify that title. And if you called my Sifu Shimizu, I think I may die a second time of embarrassment.”

“Ava—Roku. Why are you here?” He asked, trying to remember his instructions on dealing with spirits, though that class had been taught by Monk Tashi, who made him fall asleep more times than anyone else.

“Because you need me here, Aang.” Roku guided him out of the cell and through the winding halls of the ship onto the deck. The sun should’ve been warm on his face and he should’ve felt the sea breeze, but he felt nothing.

“The ship is docked.” He noticed, frowning slightly.

“Indeed it is.” Roku hummed as he stood peering over the edge. “I cannot linger long, Aang. This takes me an immense amount of energy. You must escape. Your friends await you in the Ruins of Taku, just down the river. On the Winter Solstice, you must visit me at the Temple of the Avatar, there is more I must say but I don’t have the time now.”

“Can’t you just try—” Aang groaned as the man disappeared, rubbing his face. Being told to escape was one thing, actually escaping was another. “Of course you can’t.”

He took the spot Roku had just disappeared from and, true enough, if he looked hard enough he could just barely make out the shape of the ruins Roku must’ve been referring to.

Were his friends really there waiting for him?

He bit his lip as he made his way back down to his cell, memorizing the path he would need to take, passing through a short woman carrying a spear. He would need to figure out a way to get out of his chains and his cell—

Oh.

He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of the wide-open door and his unconscious but unshackled body.

Okay.

He rushed towards his body, glad that his instinct was correct and that was enough for him to control it again. He took a moment to stand up, uncertainly before he broke out into a dead sprint.

He needed his staff—

The sight of Zhao holding his staff and letting the flames slowly consume it as he paced back and forth in front of him filled his vision.

Right. Okay. No staff.

He took a turn and very nearly barrelled into someone—“Sorry!”—as he sprinted past.

A moment later, the sharp shrill of a whistle pierced the air.

Monkeyfeathers.

The exit onto the deck of the ship was beginning to fill with soldiers, but an air tunnel was enough to stick the majority to the walls and send the rest out through the door so Aang could rush out.

The sun was warm on his cheeks and the wind was cool on his arms. The air smelt of salt.

He ducked hastily as a fireball whizzed over his head, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t have his glider but—

He jumped off the ship, forming an air scooter quickly with his hands, gliding him over the top of the water and onto the shore.

He wanted to go to Sokka and Katara he could already see the soldiers chasing after him when he glanced back.

That was fine.

He swerved his air scooter into the forest, hoping he’d be able to lose them in there. Then he could make his way to Sokka and Katara and finally get to the Northern Water Tribe.

He reached up to the top of his head and wrinkled his nose.

And cut his hair.

Junior Archer and Blades Master Takeda of the Yuyan had been in the midst of writing one of her regular letters to her best friends when the horn sounded throughout the Stronghold she had come to call him.

She let a quiet groan slip through her lips as she pushed herself away from her desk and left her small but comfortable room, joining the waves of archers as they went to see why they had been called to order at this hour.

“You think this is another one of Colonel Shinu’s “preparedness” lectures?” Bhadra asked as she fell in line with Mai, a wry grin on her face. Mai had been surprised to see her as one of the five new trainees the Yuyan were accepting this year. Apparently, the palace was more than willing to sponsor the best archer of Prince Zuko and Princess Azula’s guard to become even better with the Yuyan.

It was nice to have a familiar face, particularly one that used to sneak them treats rather often.

“Probably.” She automatically went to fix her hair before remembering that it was all gathered into twin bun like she had worn as a child as opposed to the fukiwa she had started wearing when she turned thirteen.

Safer, her instructor had told her in his ten-minute lecture when she had showed up to her first ever archery lesson with her fukiwa. The hair hanging over her shoulders was just asking to get caught in her bowstring the moment she fired her first arrow.

She had been thoroughly embarrassed, even if her court training had kept her from showing any of it on her face.

And yet, unlike her classmates at the Academy, her blunder was forgotten by the next day instead of subtly exploited in every conversation she had with them thereafter.

It was an odd experience. Azula had asked in her first letter after she arrived if there was anyone she should use to practice her lightningbending, and Mai had surprised herself when she wrote “no” in response.

“Whatever it is, I just hope it isn’t as long as his usual lectures.” She stopped in the middle of the yard where all the masse meetings were held. “I’m nearly done my letters for Zuko and Azula, and I’d like to send them by the end of the night.”

Bhadra hummed and opened her mouth, but she was cut off by the sudden hush of the yard as Colonel Shinu stepped onto the balcony with… was that Captain Zhao?

“I apologize for the meeting, all,” And for once, Shinu did actually sound apologetic. Weird. “But Admiral—” Admiral? Already? “Zhao has a very important announcement for us all.”

Mai’s eyes flitted over as Zhao stepped up, clearing his throat once before beginning to speak. “I thank you all for gathering here. To put it briefly, the Avatar had been confirmed to be in the area. As you know, he is a threat to our great nation and must be captured. Sketches of him will be distributed and pinned in key points in the Stronghold. He seems to only know airbending—do with that fact what you will. From this moment forward, your top priority will be to capture the Avatar. Patrol shifts will be adjusted accordingly. Thank you.”

The Yuyan were too professional to break out into whispers, but low where Zhao couldn’t see there was a flurry of hand movements as they used their sign to communicate with one another.

Gossip, essentially.

Mai didn’t have time for gossip, though. Not with the other Yuyan at least.

She rushed back to her room using some of the Stronghold’s back corridors, thankful for Zuko’s request for her to map out the Stronghold for him due to his obsession with maps and sneaking around. It came in handle sometimes.

She grabbed the letter she had been in the process of writing when she had been pulled away. Her ink was a bit more transparent than she preferred when she added a few drops of water to rehydrate it, but that was fine.

I recommend that you two take a visit to the Stronghold as soon as possible. I hear that we’ll soon be having your great grandfather visiting, and I’m sure you don’t want to miss him

Love,

Mai.

She signed her letter with a flourish and, without even letting the ink dry, grabbed it and began making her way to the hawkery. She wished she was a firebender and could dry it in an instant, but hopefully the slight breeze from her rushed journey would dry it well enough that it didn’t smudge too much.

She grinned when she saw that the fastest hawk Pohuai had was still there—it seemed that Shinu and Zhao hadn’t yet sent out their missive to the Fire Lord yet.

They’d just have to use the second fastest hawk.

She checked the ink one last time—acceptable, if barely—and sent the letter away to two of her best friends.

Ty Lee had gotten her letter last week and hadn’t yet sent one back with her circus’s new tour route yet.

She slipped back into one of the back halls just before she heard Zhao speaking to Shinu, clearly walking toward the hawkery.

Oops.

Azula was on his bed, looking very smug.

It was, therefore, Zuko’s Agni-given right as her brother to throw himself on top of her and try to suffocate her with his pillow.

“Ack—Zuzu, stop! Stop or I won’t let you see this letter from Mai!”

He stopped.

“A letter from Mai?”

His sister smirked and he could practically read her thoughts—oh, Zuzu’s so predictable. Yes, yes he was.

That was his girlfriend, after all.

“Indeed.” His sister shoved him off of her and he let her. “And there’s something particularly interesting at the end.”

He snatched the letter from her outstretched hand and began to read it rather quickly. He reached the end then read the last short paragraph again.

“Great grandfather? How could great grandfather—” He froze, his eyes wide. “Oh Agni.”

“Wrong spirit, Zuko.” Azula’s eyes glinted and he couldn’t help but grin in response to her smile.

“Are you thinking what I am?”

“I’m three steps ahead of you, as usual, but yes.” Azula hopped off his bed gracefully and he hurried after her.

“I wouldn’t say three steps, maybe one and a half.”

“You’re correct, Zuzu, four and a half.”

They continued their banter all the way to the throne room, pushing the doors open without care. Kneeling before the Dragon Throne was a minister, likely petitioning for more of the royal coffers to be dedicated to his section of the government.

Boring.

“Mother? May we steal Father for a few moments so you may proceed?” Their father’s presence didn’t particularly matter in that instant—more than likely he was just hiding from his war ministers for a few minutes with his wife.

Prince and Princess walked along the side of the room and disappeared into the room behind the throne with their father as their mother carried on her work.

Fire Lord Ozai hummed as he knelt at the small desk, beginning to prepare a pot of tea—likely to prevent Zuko from doing so himself. He wasn’t sure why his family was so resistant to him making tea, he thought it tasted fine, but whatever.

“Can we go to Pohuai?” Zuko asked without preamble as he sat down on a cushion himself, Azula following a moment later with a roll of her eyes.

“Why do you want to go to Pohuai, Zuko?” His father asked with a quiet sigh as he poured the cups of tea.

“Mai is at Pohuai, father.” Azula interjected before he could speak, causing him to look at her in offence.

He understood why they had to lie—Father could be a bit overprotective at times—but why did she have to say it that way?

“Ah. You do realize, Zuko, that in order to get your mother’s permission in this you’ll have to reveal that you’re dating her?” A smirk their mother said was identical to Zuko’s own graced their father’s list as Zuko felt his face start to burn up.

“You know?” He managed to get through the sound of Azula’s laugher—only restrained from her usual shriek-like laughter because of their mother’s meeting in the adjacent room.

“Zuko, Lu Ten knew you had a crush on her—and your cousin has been dead for nearly five years.”

He shrank into his robes, able to feel even his ears burning. Still, when Azula elbowed him, he groaned. “Fine. But do I really have to?”

“Yes.” Father sipped his tea, smiling idyllically. “Besides, it will make your mother overjoyed. Michi is more my friend than hers, yes, but she likes Mai. And she would be the ideal Fire Lady.”

His eyes widened as he let our a shriek comparable to Azula’s growing laughter—was she crying? “No one said anything about marriage, Dad!”

“I did.”

He picked up his cup of tea and chugged it, not even bothering to enjoy the flavour.

Anything to get out of this conversation.

“Do I want to know what’s going on?” His mother asked from the doorway, a light smile on her lips accompanied by a raised eyebrow.

Azula only laughed harder.

Zuko just melted onto the floor.

“Zuko has an announcement,” Father said, his smirk only growing.

“Oh? Does he?” Their mother sat down and took the offered teacup.

“No.” He hissed as Azula finally managed to regain her breath.

“Zuzu’s dating Mai—”

“Shut up!”

Even his father burst into laughter this time as his mother pressed a light hand to her chest, sarcasm dripping from her words. “Oh, I had no clue.”

Zuko pouted as the other three members of his immediate family—his little sister spending time with their uncle—laughed at him in unison.

“I hate you all.” He grumbled as he stole his sisters cup of tea and drank it.

And no.

He wasn’t smiling.

Chapter Text

“It’s okay, buddy.” Aang said, patting his best friend’s flank. “You’ll be all better soon. Just need to get you the last dose of your medicine from the herbalist and hopefully she’ll have some for Sokka and Katara too. Then we’ll be all good to go!”

“I still don’t think you should be going out there, Aang.” Katara mumbled, her brows pressed together as she tried to sit up, only to slump back against Appa’s side a moment later. “It’s you the Fire Nation is hunting. Sokka and I have already had some close run-ins with patrols and we know Zhao is still in the area. It’s not safe—”

“You all need medicine and I’m the only healthy one of us left.” He smiled reassuringly—or at least he hoped—at her. “I’ll wear the cloak you got me and keep the hood up at all times. And I won’t use my airbending. I’ll be safe, I promise.”

“Potatoes…” Sokka said from where he was curled up with Momo tightly in his grasp.

Katara looked over at her brother and sighed quietly. “Okay… just be safe, Aang. Don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

He nodded and hugged her quickly before leaving the ruins they were hiding in.

He sighed as he set his gaze toward his goal. The Herbalist’s home was far—far enough that he’d rather augment his trip with airbending enhanced running—but he had promised Katara.

No unnecessary risks.

No airbending.

“Okay Aang…” He muttered to himself, pulling the hood up over his head. “You can do this.”

He started the long, slow trip to the Herbalists, taking care to happily greet the Fire Naton soldiers in the watchtower as he passed so as to not seem suspicious.

It took forever, even if it might’ve only been a half hour before he finally reached the Herbalist’s cottage.

A wide grin spread across his face as he looked around. He didn’t see anyone and the door was wide open…

He ran inside, only to immediately crash into a teenaged girl with her hair pulled into twin buns and a severe look on her face.

“Watch where you’re going,” She snapped, though her expression didn’t seem to be all that angry, just annoyed at nearly being knocked over. “You almost made me drop this medicine.”

“Sorry!” He frantically pulled his hood back up, offering her a grin. “I guess I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes, turning and walking out the door he had just come through.

At least she didn’t seem to have noticed his tattoos. Thank the Spirits for small mercies.

He turned to the Herbalist. “I’m with Sokka and Katara, here to pick up the last of my bison’s medicine?”

“Ah, yes.” The woman turned around, humming quietly. “Anything else?”

“Actually… yeah. My friends caught some kind of mysterious illness and—”

“I know exactly what you’re talking about.” The woman nodded sagely. “They must’ve caught it from Miyuki—that boy was very intent on petting her yesterday even though I told him not to. Follow me.”

He took the medicine from her outstretched hand and followed as she wound her way through her home, mixing what felt like dozens of ingredients until finally she was done.

Only to reveal it wasn’t for his friends after all.

“That’s for Miyuki’s supper! What your friends need is just to suck on some frozen woodfrogs—plenty to be found in the swamp. Just don’t let them thaw, that’s gross and won’t work.”

Aang stood there for a second as the woman patted the top of his head.

Frozen woodfrogs.

Right.

“Thanks, I guess…” He muttered, turning and stuffing Appa’s medicine into his pocket.

All he had to go was go to the swamp and get some frozen woodfrogs. Then make Sokka and Katara—ew—suck on them while he fed Appa his medicine.

Then they could go to the North Pole! With maybe a quick stop at the Northern Air Temple to replace his glider.

It was foolproof.

“You’re not the smartest, are you?”

Aang paused as he walked out of the hut, turning to look at the same girl from before. Her arms were crossed as she stared at him

“What?” He tilted his head after looking around to make sure there was absolutely no one else she could be talking to.

That was kind of rude.

“You’re… naïve at best. Stupid at worst.” The girl glared at him. “More importantly, you’re ruining my date night.”

“What?” He barely had time to look at the girl like she was crazy before he was dancing out of the way of arrows. “Be careful, someone is—”

He wasn’t able to avoid the flying knives that pinned him to the hut by the edges of his clothing.

“The Yuyan never hit something they don’t intend to, I’m just fine.” The girl walked forward as hoards of people emerged from the forest as one. “You, on the other hand, are not.”

Maybe she had seen his arrow then.

Zuko stood at the bow of the ship, looking out at the water.

It was a beautiful day.

“How much longer are you going to stand there and pretend to be the main character of some great drama, Zuko?”

“I probably would’ve for at least five more minutes, but I suppose I can stop now,” Zuko said with a faux sigh, turning toward his sister. “I can see land on the horizon.”

“I know. So does Jee. I swear I have never seen that man smile so much as he has since we got on this ship.” Azula came to stand behind him and he leaned against her ever so slightly.

“Well, he did start as a naval officer. Makes sense that he’d be happy to be back on the sea if that’s the place he chose to be.”

“I suppose.” Azula shrugged. “But he began as part of the Navy’s special operations force, which didn’t have all that much to do with actually sailing.”

“But after he left the special operations force he chose to become a regular officer on a navy ship, instead of transferring into another area.”

“Did he really have much option?”

“I guess not but—”

“Are you two capable of not gossiping about me when I’m right here?”

Zuko and Azula looked over in unison to see the captain of the ship staring at them from a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest.

“No.” Zuko said after a moment in a deadpan, blinking slowly.

Jee let out a long, slow sigh before walking toward them. “I chose to be on a ship after the ops. Yes, I missed the sea. Now you two better get your proper armour back on, you are still royalty and should look it. Even if you’re just visiting your girlfriend.”

Zuko was a proper prince and very nearly an adult. Thus, he only stuck his tongue out at Captain Jee for a brief moment before racing his sister—very maturely—below deck.

“Hah! Beat you!” Zuko said as he raced into his room, grabbing the armour he had deposited onto his bed earlier in the day. He pulled it on quickly, taking only the time necessary to tighten all the straps before he was racing back out and onto the deck once more.

“Fix your hair, Zuzu!” Azula yelled as he passed her room.

He didn’t see why he really needed to, the sea breeze was just going to mess it up again.

“Fix your hair, Prince Zuko.” Jee said, unknowingly echoing his other charge as he reached out, catching the back of his robes as he made his way toward the bow of the ship. “I highly doubt Lady Mai wants to see you looking like a mess, and you are still representing your father to the Yuyan.”

He puffed out his cheeks as he took the time to stop and fix his hair, pulling out one of his swords to use as a mirror and hand to the closest non-Jee sailor to hold for him.

“I think I beat you.” Azula said when he finally went to join her at the bow of the ship as they pulled into port, looking as perfect as she always did.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I—” Zuko paused. “Why’s Zhao here?”

Azula blinked and shrugged slightly. “I don’t know, Zuko, why does the sun rise in the morning?”

“Prince Zuko, Princess Azula! It’s an honour to see you two here.” Zhao said in a booming voice as they walked down the ramp toward him. “I was not aware your father was sending you two here.”

He shared a glance with his sister out of the corner of his eye. Azula was always the better one when it came to fabricating stories on the spot.

His sister raised her chin, a true sign she was going to come up with some first-class bullshit. “Father decided it was time for Zuko and myself to gain some real world experience, since we recently graduated. I suppose he didn’t see fit to inform you since your performance shouldn’t vary whether we’re here or not.”

She was kind of impressive sometimes.

Zhao inclined his head. “Of course, Princess. I just sent off the letter informing your father we’ve successfully captured the Avatar within the past few hours, but if you’re here already I can take you to go see him.”

So they had interpreted Mai’s letter correctly.

“Lead on, Admiral.”

A pity, Zuko had been hoping to hunt him down together with her. They could even have a little picnic like Mom had suggested…

Oh well. They could still have a picnic after he met the reincarnation of his great grandfather.

If he was anything like Grandmother Rina…

Zuko wrinkled his nose the moment Zhao turned away and waved his sister off at her inquiring look.

He’d explain later if he remembered.

He folded his hands behind his back as he walked in step with Azula, constantly looking through the corner of his eye to see if he could catch sight of Mai.

“The Avatar is untrained but still incredibly dangerous.” Zhao spoke and Zuko listened with less than half an ear. “Thus, we have him in a room with a heavy door, with all his limbs individually chained. Most would have him killed, of course, and I did consider the idea.”

“I see. And why haven’t you?” Azula responded in a monotone, reaching out to hit him but stopping suddenly.

He looked at her quizzically and she glared. Oh. She probably wanted him to contribute.

“If he were to be executed, we would need to start hunting him down all over again, and since we do not yet have control of the Northern Water Tribe—” Zhao cut himself off, a smirk on his face. “I believe it best if he is kept docile through restricted food and water intake. I considered having him beaten, but we’re unsure if that would trigger the Avatar state.”

Zuko shrugged. It was a good idea.

“Can airbenders still bend without use of their limbs?” Zuko asked, shrugging at Azula’s less than impressed look. Fancy, political talk like Zhao and Azula were doing weren’t his specialty. “I’m aware earthbenders cannot.”

“Sadly, they can.” Zhao said, his tone also seeming unimpressed, though Zuko couldn’t think as to why. “It is part of what makes them so dangerous.”

They stopped before a door and Zhao had one of the soldiers flanking it open it.

Zuko blinked in surprise as he stepped inside, looking over to Azula to see her doing a much better—but not perfect—job at hiding her surprise.

The Air Nation had been wiped out in the year of the first coming of Sozin’s Comet, when the Avatar would have been twelve, according to the date of his great grandfather’s death.

The Avatar should be even older than Azulon would have been.

Zuko stared at the chained boy. His face still had the baby fat on it that Azula had only just started to lose.

He was no older than twelve or thirteen.

His mind raced through the possibilities. It wasn’t impossible for there to be some small groups of airbenders remaining, certain, in fact, but none would be so dumb as to give their children mastery tattoos.

And for the Avatar to have been reborn an airbender after being killed during the comet, that meant that a Water Tribe, Earth Kingdom, and Fire Nation Avatar all would’ve had to be born and died without being realized as the Avatar.

While he was staring at the boy, he raised his head and he found himself staring into clear grey eyes.

“How are you certain this is the Avatar, Admiral?” Azula asked, her voice unwavering and cooler than it had been since Zuko last heard her dismissing a particularly arrogant military man at their mother’s birthday ball.

“He is an airbender—”

“And? You cannot truly be so foolish as to think that airbenders do not still exist.” Azula scoffed as she stepped closer to the boy, stopping in front of him when he flinched. “You were good at history, were you not?”

Zhao frowned irritation passing over his features as Zuko made a loop of the airbender, checking the restraints.

They were good, solid Fire Nation make, but they had their weak points.

“It was my best subject in the Academy and a personal passion of mine, yes. Why?”

“Then you should know the Air Nation abandoned all their nonbending children in the Northern Fire Nation Provinces and the Eastern Earth Kingdom. Bending can easily skip generations, what proof do you have that he is the Avatar? He is just a boy, the Avatar should be over a hundred years old.” Oh, and there was his sister, zeroing in on the kill.

He had never liked the man since he had met him at his sister’s first birthday banquet as Crown Princess, but his sister had seemed to like him.

Of course, that was before they realized that Zhao planned to subject a twelve year old boy to a fate worse than death without even knowing if he was truly the Avatar or not.

He shuddered as he remembered huddling in his bed with his sister, clinging to his swords until he passed out from exhaustion.

Azulon had ordered his death, but at least he had the small mercy of knowing his father would have made his death quick and painless.

His grandfather wouldn’t have afforded him the same kindness.

Would Azulon have strung him up and starved him, displaying him for all to see?

He couldn’t deny it concretely in his mind.

“He has tattoos that signify airbending mastery. I highly doubt any reclusive airbending communities would do that unless convinced that they were necessary, such as for the Avatar, Princess Azula.” Zhao spat his sister’s name, voice free of all respect it might’ve held before.

Zuko stepped in, breaking their locked gazes. “I’m with my sister. I don’t believe he’s the Avatar.”

“We will call our father here.” Azula said eventually. “He will confirm whether or not the boy is the Avatar—I hope for your sake he is. Because I cannot see the Fire Lord being pleased if you’ve brought another group of people against the Fire Nation. Remember, Admiral, that Fire Lady Emiko herself was one of those Air Nation nonbending babies. Their descendents live among us and have been nothing but loyal to the crown up until now.”

Silence lingered.

“How about you lead us to the hawkery, Admiral?” He said, not letting himself look back at the chained airbender.

“… Of course.” Zhao scowled and took the lead again as Azula grabbed his arm.

“He looks eleven,” She whispered.

And that told him everything he needed to know his sister was in complete agreement with him.

“Tonight.”

Chapter Text

The Dragon Emperor and the Dark Water Spirit were traditionally at odds with each other. Not enemies, no. Neither of them were good, nor were they evil. The truth was that very few spirits were solely one or the other, and these two were no different.

The Dragon Emperor traditionally represented order where the Dark Water Spirit represented disorder. That resulted in a misunderstanding of their true nature among many scholars, who wrongfully conflated order with goodness. This was particularly true of the Fire Nation, where order was highly valued as it was seen hand in hand with control.

It only made sense, then, that the Dragon Emperor was seen as a Fire Nation spirit where the Dark Water Spirit found their home in the Northern Water Tribe.

That is not to say that all in the Fire Nation misunderstood these spirits. Two years prior to Sozin’s Comet, a short play named Love Amongst the Dragons was sponsored by the Fire Lord himself that depicted a remarkably accurate portrayal of these two spirits, with the Dark Water Spirit taking a antagonistic and mischievous role where no true harm was done, and the Dragon Emperor taking the role of the protagonist only to learn from the Dark Water Spirit’s mischief himself.

Love Amongst the Dragons was the favourite play of three members of the Fire Nation royal family. Fire Lady Ursa remembered the play with fondness for it was the last she got to perform in before marrying Prince Ozai and taking on the duties of a Princess, which sadly didn’t allow for public acting of the kind she preferred. It was only fitting, then, that the Dragon Empress was her favourite role since it was the one she had taken on.

Her children had different preferences. When they were very small, Love Amongst the Dragons had been the favoured play of Prince Zuko and Princess Azula due to the climactic battle between the Dragon Emperor and the Dark Water Spirit near the end of the play. It was more of a dance, really, with each side giving and taking equally.

It also had no true winner, ending with the escape of the Dark Water Spirit as the Dragon Emperor finally resumed his true form, having learnt the lesson his friend and opposite was trying to teach.

Princess Azula often claimed the role of the Dragon Emperor, something that had frequently irritated her brother by sheer virtue of the fact that children often want what the other has, particularly when one had so passionately laid claim to it.

And yet, after the one time Princess Ursa commanded her daughter to give the Dragon Emperor mask to her brother, he never wore it again. Prince Zuko found that he truly was more suited for the chaotic role of the Dark Water Spirit with their often unpredictable movements.

As they grew older, the siblings gained a new appreciation for their favourite play. Princess Azula latched onto the fact that it had been written by Princess Anzu, their great aunt and most importantly the only lightningbending master in the last 400 years. Prince Zuko, on the other hand, gained an appreciation for the music that accompanied the play, learning to play every theme and interlude on his tsungi horn before stealing his sister’s dizi and proceeding to learn them on that was well.

The first piece of music he composed himself was intended to accompany one of the scenes cut from the original play in order to simplify it—a flashback-like scene showing the Dark Water Spirit and the Dragon Emperor taking tea together as the Dark Water Spirit tried and succeeded in goading the Dragon Emperor into talking to the Dragon Empress for the first time.

(The other three members of the royal family had different preferences. Fire Lord Ozai would admit after some questioning that he liked The Fire Lily Duels best, a historical play that the other members of his family all found a bit slow at best. Young Princess Kiyumi was not yet four years old herself, but demanded to be read A Hawk’s Flight nearly every night by her mother. An odd choice for a child, perhaps, until one took into account the fact that it had been written by the Playwright Zuko for whom her brother was named.

Prince Iroh’s hatred of theatre was well known and oft taken advantage of by the rest of his family.)

It only made sense, then, that the Dark Water Spirit and the Dragon Emperor walked side by side through the winding corridors of the Pohuai Stronghold.

In their wake, they left a half dozen knocked out guards.

The Dark Water Spirit pushed open the door to the cell and the Dragon Emperor walked in, their lujiao dao raised cautiously before nodding and gesturing for their companion to enter as well.

The Avatar stared at the two spirits with wide eyes. “Are you… here to help me? Give me advice? Oh I really hope this isn’t a case of you guys being upset with me for the whole gone for a hundred years thing because I’m really sorry—” The Avatar had met a spirit once before, of course, but that was Avatar Roku. Perhaps the blue translucency only applied to the Avatar?

And what language did you use to speak with spirits? He had used Air when speaking with Avatar Roku, but he spoke Earth now because they were in the Earth Kingdom and it seemed to be the defacto language everyone knew.

The two spirits shared a look and the Dark Water Spirit raised their dual swords, spinning them rather dramatically for a moment before approaching the Avatar.

His eyes widened. Maybe Earth wasn’t the right choice but he didn’t know these spirits! He’d never been the best in his classes on the spirits and had only really focused on the Air Nomad guiding spirits. “No, no, no, I’m sorry please don’t!”

The chains broke and the Avatar found himself standing solidly on the found a few moments later as the Dark Water Spirit stared at him for a few long moments before turning to his companion and nodding.

The Dragon Emperor approaches him and drew two weapons from the folds of their robes—lujiao dao. The Avatar knew those, at least. They were weapons often used by Air Benders who had broken their vow of pacifism, originating in the times before the Air Nomads had chosen to devote themselves to nonviolence. The Avatar himself had used them once or twice for some of the old, advanced air bending forms he had been working on learning before he had run away.

A moment later, the lujiao dao had been used to undo the bindings around his wrists and ankles and the Dark Water Spirit had lain a surprisingly gentle hand on the Avatar’s back to guide him out.

He tried to ignore the bodies on the floor as he passed, resisting the urge to check and make sure they were still breathing.

Spirits weren’t allowed to kill people, right?

It was all going well until they ran into someone else in the hallways—the very same girl who had captured him in the first place.

“Watch out! She had knives!” The Avatar warned, getting in position to airbend.

But the spirits didn’t move, and neither did the girl. Instead, they just stared at each other until the girl finally spoke.

“Odd to see a Fire Nation spirit working against the will of the crown,” She said in Fire, her voice slow and words clearly precisely chosen. “But who am I to defy the will of our spirits? I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

The girl’s golden eyes bore into him and he shuddered.

“We do.” The Dragon Emperor spoke their—her?—voice reminding him vaguely of Anzu’s. They had that same odd accent in Fire. Anzu had said it was a result of being extremely high born—perhaps it was some kind of royal fire spirit?

He doubted it was Agni, though. Agni was always portrayed differently in the texts he’d read. Perhaps it was one of the Great Spirit’s many children?

The Avatar swallowed thickly as the girl walked past and they continued onward, exiting the main building and sneaking through the compound. “You know—”

The Dark Water Spirit turned to stare at him—or at least, he assumed it was staring. It didn’t look like they could actually blink. Slowly, they brought a single finger up to their lips.

Silence.

They had nearly escaped when the horn blew and the time that felt like it had been going to slowly began to run. The spirits took the lead and the Avatar followed close behind, all three dodging arrows and spears deftly.

That was until they were surrounded by the Yuyan with Zhao commanding the Avatar be kept alive.

He felt the sharp edge of the Dark Water Spirit’s blades against his throat. The spirit’s body was warm behind him.

Spirits weren’t allowed to kill people, right?

“Spirits are inherently selfish creatures.” Monk Gyatso had told him one day after explaining to him one of the spirit stories he hadn’t understood in class. “It is not even that they are selfish, but that they do not view humans as on the same level as them, just as many people do not view the ant as on the same level as them. If given the chance, they will always choose themselves and their own kind, no matter how benevolent they may seem.”

The Avatar swallowed thickly. He was kind of a spirit too, wasn’t he?

That’s why he had run away.

They got away but the Dark Water Spirit had been knocked out—something he didn’t know was possible but clearly he had much to learn about spirits. The Avatar led the two spirits to the cave he had been staying in with his friends, pausing only to grab some of the frozen frogs the Herbalist had recommended he get.

He really hoped he wasn’t too late.

It was only when he had given Appa his medicine and popped the two frogs in his friends’ mouths that the Avatar spoke once again.

“Thank you, uh, generous spirits.” He bowed in the Fire Nation way, figuring since they were Fire spirits that that would be the best choice.

The Dragon Emperor didn’t speak.

“You know… I’ve been to the Fire Nation before, a hundred years ago. That must be a really short time to you, and it is to me too. It feels like just a few months ago I was last there.” He hugged his knees, wondering if the spirit was listening to him. They were just staring down at the other spirit. “I had some friends there—Kuzon. And… Anzu too. Your voice sounds a lot like her. Do you think you could give her a message, if… if she’s in the Spirit World? You must be one of Agni’s children and I know Anzu said she’d be with Agni when she dies, and it’s been so long she’s probably dead but—”

“There are many Anzus in the Fire Nation.” The Dragon Emperor spoke like that girl had now, careful and precise to make sure not a single word was wrong.

“She… she probably married our friend Kuzon? Kuzon Oshiro? They were dating when I… got frozen and I can’t imagine either of them ever marrying some one else. Does that help?” He leaned forward, his voice almost desperate. He had never gotten to properly say goodbye to any of his friends. He was supposed to see them again in just a few months.

“Anzu Oshiro is not dead.” The spirit’s voice wavered slightly as they shook the other spirit vigorously.

“A—” The Dark Water Spirit started to sit up. So both of them could speak, then.

“My brother and I must leave, now. We will meet again, Avatar.” The Dragon Emperor stood and practically dragged the Dark Water Spirit up, even as he groaned quietly.

“I—right.” He sighed as they both left in a rush, the Dark Water Spirit stumbling. At least they had answered more than Roku had.

“Aang?” Katara looked at him as Sokka spit the frog out of his mouth. “Who was that?”

He stared back at the cave entrance. “Friends, maybe.”

But spirits were selfish creatures. Nothing said that they would be friends next they saw each other.

“Fire Lord Ozai. Fire Lady Ursa.” Admiral Zhao knelt deeply at their parent’s entrance.

Princess Azula merely bowed her head with her brother at the sight of her parents. “Father. Mother.”

“Zuko, Azula.” Their father nodded at them as their mother smiled and their little sister waved eagerly from their mother’s arms. “Tell me, Admiral Zhao, why I rush over here at the news that you have the Avatar, only to receive a hawk when I am nearly here that the Avatar has escaped?”

Azula couldn’t help but relish in the flicker of fear and trepidation that passed over the man’s features. Her cousin’s widow or not, the Avatar was a small child and a possible ally to their nation if treated correctly and swayed to their side. His words and choices had been foolish at best and dangerous at worst.

“Every precaution was taken in securing the Avatar, but he was broken out by two masked criminals. The soldiers have taken to calling them the Red and Blue Spirit, but I have reason to believe that they’re mere mortals and may actually be the two companions the Avatar was travelling with before his capture—a waterbending girl and a boy of unknown bending status, also from the Southern Water Tribe. The Blue Spirit—likely the boy due to height—was knocked out during the recapture attempt but the other two managed to escape with him.”

“I see.” Azula studiously avoided their father’s gaze. There was a travelling festival nearby where the two of them had procured the masks, it was theoretically within the realm of possibility for the two Water Tribe siblings to have procured them. And Zuko’s concussion was mild and already nearly gone, so there was no reason for their parents to find out about that.

It was purely coincidental that the masks chosen were from Zuko and Azula’s favourite play, with the appropriately masked accomplices wearing the roles the royal siblings preferred.

The excuse sounded flimsy, even to her in her mind, but the important part was that there was no proof and that Zhao suspected nothing.

And that he didn’t think too hard about the niuwei dao hanging from her brother’s back.

“Very well then. Admiral Zhao, since you seem so keen on the task, you are to be officially assigned to hunting down the Avatar along with your current duties. If you can capture his companions as well, then all the better.” Her father’s gaze was icy. Clearly he wasn’t particularly impressed with the man either. “You’re dismissed, Admiral.”

Zhao left and their mother placed Kiyumi down. The girl immediately ran toward Zuko who hugged her, even if he didn’t spin her the way he normally did.

Azula couldn’t exactly blame him, he did still have a concussion after all.

“Zuko, did you enjoy your time with Mai?” Their mother walked over to hug her, something that Azula happily leant into. Despite how much fun she had had here, she did miss her parents. It was odd to be away from them both for so long.

“Yeah.” She could see him batting Kiyumi’s hands away from his top knot. The girl had an odd penchant for trying to ruin everyone’s hairstyles, including her own. Hence why she still wore her hair down despite it being long enough to put up. “We went on a picnic, though Azula insisted on joining—”

She sniffed. “I would not allow myself to be left behind in some random Stronghold, Zuzu—”

“And afterward she showed me how to use a bow—"

“He nearly killed me.”

“Shut up, Azula,” Zuko whined and she gave herself a mental pat on the back. It was her duty from Agni himself to be an annoying little sister, plus it helped to keep their parents from noticing how Zuko’s reactions and movements were just the slightest bit slower than usual. “You’re giving me a headache.” And luckily, it seemed her brother caught on as well.

Their father sighed. “Right. Well, would one of you like to go tell Mai to pack her things? Michi has given birth and would like her home to meet her brother. They’ve decided to call the boy Tom Tom, which… I suppose is a decent name.”

Translation: her father hated it and wondered how his best friends could choose such an idiotic name for their secondborn.

Azula snickered quietly and shoved at her brother. “Go tell your girlfriend you get to spend more time together, Zuzu.”

Zuko sighed and handed her their little sister so that she could undergo the torture of Kiyumi’s grabbing hands. “Fine, fine.”

“Don’t take too long.” Their mother pulled him into a brief hug as she spoke. “We have to leave by this evening if we’re to make it to the Temple on Crescent Island in time for your sixteenth birthday. The seas are rougher than expected for this time of year.”

Zuko nodded and escaped to go find Mai.

Tradition dictated that royal heirs would visit the tombs of their non-royal family on the eve of their birthday, while the day was typically spent in public celebrations. The public celebration had been forgone with their uncle though, since he had been in the Northern Water Tribe for his sixteenth birthday, and neither Zuko nor Azula had any desire to reinstate that part.

Given that Avatar Roku was buried under layers and layers of volcanic rock, the decision had been made to instead visit the Temple of the Avatar for Zuko’s birthday.

“Come along, Kiyi,” Her mother crooned as she took Kiyumi from her arms. “How about we go see Colonel Shinu’s daughter before we leave? You’ll be going to school with her soon, you know.”

Azula was not uncomfortable being alone with her father, even with the way his eyes were staring at her analyzing. She knew her father well, well enough to know that he loved her and her brother more than enough to indulge them in basically anything, including breaking out one of the great enemies of their nation.

“What do you think of the Avatar then, Azula?” He asked, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder as they walked together toward the ship docked in the port. She knew enough to know her and Zuko’s ship had probably already been sent back on its out to the capital with most of its crew.

Not Captain Jee, it seemed, given the way he was standing on the deck arguing with someone.

“I’m not entirely convinced he is the Avatar,” She murmured, staring at the captain. “An airbender, yes, but not the Avatar. And even if he is the Avatar, I think consideration should be made to persuading him to our side. He is a child, at least two years younger than me, if not more.”

He likely was the Avatar and he was most certainly out of time, but if a master airbender was someone that could be won to their side, child or not…

Not to mention the fact that he had apparently known and been friends with Princess Anzu and her husband, but not known that Anzu was a princess herself.

In the very least it was enlightening on a number of matters, such as why Princess Anzu and Lord Oshiro were so anti-war, despite the princess having been her brother’s Chief Advisor. It also confirmed her suspicions that the rift between Princess Anzu and Fire Lord Sozin had formed because of the attack on the Air Nation, and that it was likely why her relationship with Crown Prince Kirin had deteriorated as well.

Perhaps Princess Anzu was hiding at one of the Air Temples? It was a possibility she hadn’t considered before, but a plausible one, particularly if she had been close friends with the Avatar as a child.

If she found her, maybe she could convince her to sway the Avatar to the Fire Nation’s side while she tried to convince her to teach her lightningbending herself. Surely her great-aunt would see that the Avatar on their side would essentially end the war and result in the least amount of further bloodshed?

“I see.” Their father hummed quietly. “Do you think your mother would be a good choice to persuade him?”

She looked up, quickly dismissing her thoughts about Princess Anzu. “Perhaps. I think Zuko and I would be a better choice.”

“Because you helped him escape?”

Azula ignored the prompting question. “Because we are his age and, if push comes to shove, we could fight him if necessary and win. Mother is not a warrior, not like we are.”

“I see…”

“We’re ready!” Zuko announced, walking arm in arm with Mai. Her friend had a neutral yet amused look on her face as she handed off a small pack to one of the ship’s crewmen, glaring at one that tried to take the bow she had slung across her shoulders.

“Good, good. It is a pleasure to see you again, Lady Mai.” Their father bowed his head slightly in response to Mai’s. “I will go collect your mother and we’ll be off. Zuko, perhaps it would be best if you go lay down for a few hours.”

Zuko sheepishly let his hand fall from where he was shading his eyes from the sun, something no selfrespecting Fire Nationer would typically do. “Right… I’ll just… be in my room then.”

Azula snickered as he left and she took her place next to Mai. “Are you sure you still want to marry him one day?”

It only mildly surprised her when Mai’s lips curled up into a soft smile. “More than anything.”