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Chapter Text

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Chapter One

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Zuko hadn’t expected much of this so-called festival his sister had dragged him to on one particularly cool autumn night. Azula insisted that he go with her, Ty Lee, and Mai to “experience some real fun for once in his life”. The fight that followed was quickly interrupted by a housekeeper urging them to find something to do that wouldn’t start a fire. With a defiant frown, he slipped on the comical festival mask that his loving sister had thrown at his face and followed the girls into a pavilion not too far from the palace. 

“Come on, Zuzu. Think of it as a learning exercise. We’ll get to see how the poor people celebrate our family being better than them,” Azula chimed, looping her arm with Ty Lee as she pulled her toward the large crowd. The three girls donned their own masks, each beautifully detailed and picked up from a shop they passed on the way. Even amongst the common folk, it was clear the three were of some higher standing just by looking at their ornate face coverings.

“I really don’t like her,” Zuko growled with a hidden snarl. 

“At least try to enjoy the food,” suggested Mai, who had lingered behind for a second before disappearing in the direction of the food stalls. He contemplated going with her but decided against it when he noticed how busy that section of the town square was: bodies squished together as they tried to make their way through the crowd of dancers, kids running around with sparklers, loud drunks lolling about and being way too loud. The heat in the air sang of joyous festivities that Zuko didn’t entirely understand. Mai had explained that it had something to do with the mainland folks wanting a day akin to the Fire Festival that the colonies had, but he didn’t listen too intently.

With a heavy sigh, the young boy made his way to the side of the dancing mass of Fire Nation citizens and leaned against a light post. His hesitancy kept him at a safe distance, but the way his fingers tapped on his crossed arms in time with the music said he was more interested than he led his sister to believe. His eyes flitted from person to person, studying the way they danced and sang confidently. One man, who looked somewhat familiar, was belting his slurred songs as if no one else could hear him. He grabbed the hand of a nearby woman who laughed heartily as she spun with him.

Zuko thought of the servants in the palace and how they were never this ecstatic, usually because they were afraid of outbursts from the royal family. Azula’s temper rivalled that of a dragon’s, and her brother was no stranger to property damage when it came to his firebending practice. His mother had been a saint compared to the rest of them. He frowned at the thought of her, his heart yearning for just one more hug or story.

“It’s funny, isn’t it?”

He jumped at the sudden appearance of a young girl beside him. The pointed beak of her mask delicately traced the edges of her nose, white feathers extending from the cheeks and forehead dancing when a slight breeze blew through and tangled in her midnight black waves that flowed down her back. What initially caught Zuko’s attention wasn’t the odd nature of her mask (most people adorned dragons or lions while she mimicked a swan) or her tanned skin that contrasted the fairer complexions often seen in the Fire Nation. No, what the royal had noticed first and foremost was the piercing blue-grey eyes that glimmered beneath it all. Like a cloud on the brink of a thunderstorm, they hid a certain ferocity that he couldn’t quite place. 

“The way people can be so alive for one night. You’d think they never experienced joy before this.” Zuko wasn’t even aware she was speaking again until she turned to him. Her hand raised to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“They aren’t usually this happy?” Zuko wondered aloud, changing his voice somewhat. The girl raised an intrigued eyebrow.

“You see the big man wobbling around over there?” She nodded to the familiar-faced man dancing boisterously with a drink in hand, “That’s General Kai-Ming Lian.” 

Zuko squinted, and sure enough, he recognised the usually stone-faced man by a distinct scar across the bridge of his nose. The royal stifled a laugh at the idea of the burly general, known for his ruthlessly decisive military strategies, twirling both men and women left and right. His attention was recaptured by the girl beside him when she shifted nervously.

“Do you dance?” she asked with an inquisitive tilt of her head that left her hair falling over one shoulder. He hesitated, frowning as an unfamiliar heat crept up to his cheeks. “ Can you dance?” she posed a better question. With a face as red as the flames that lit the lantern above them, Zuko turned away from her to avoid her giggling, though the melody of it filtered in through his ears and infested his mind anyway. His face only burned hotter when she blithely took his hand and led him closer to the centre of the plaza. She was gentle enough that he could have pulled away if he wanted and stayed mindful of how close they were to the main crowd, but something in him didn’t want to let go. Perhaps for only one minute, he could allow himself to be less than a carrier of royal blood – for only one minute, he was just a boy. 

The stranger held one of his hands in hers and put the other on his shoulder as they stayed hidden in the corner. “This one’s easy, just follow me,” she explained and slowly began to move her feet, stepping back and forth to the rhythm. Every once in a while, Zuko stepped on her foot, but she just laughed and spun him around when he tried to apologise. 

He had never interacted so casually with another kid his age. This girl was strange (she didn’t even look like a Fire Nation citizen), but his mother always warned him of the dangers of a closed-off mind. This was new and exciting but also alarming. His face was too hot now, and his feet weren’t used to moving in such a way, but she pulled and pushed him as if she were playing with a doll, her own feet almost gliding across the stone street.

“You’re good at this,” Zuko muttered as the music slowed to something he could keep up with. 

“And you’re awfully clumsy. I guess they don’t teach dance lessons in the palace, do they?” the girl with the stormy eyes quipped, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Zuko’s eyes widened beneath his mask, and his muscles tensed. What gave him away? He had been so careful! 

Right as he was about to ask who she was, the clearing of a throat caught both of their attention. He whipped his head around to see Mai standing a few feet away, two kebabs in hand. 

“We’re ready to go,” she noted in that confidently indifferent tone of hers, dark eyes carefully watching the girl in the white mask. Zuko hesitated as she let go of him and took a step back to bow properly.

“I…Thank you,” he murmured, shock still rattling his brain. She offered another sweet but small smile.

“You’re welcome,” she bowed her head slightly as they departed. Zuko was left confused by the quickened pace of his heart and even more so by her acknowledgement of his status. He shook his head and chalked it up to adrenaline from dancing so intensely, sparing a single glance over his shoulder as he walked away with Mai. He could barely make out the figure of the girl as she made her way deeper into the crowd, helping an unsteady General Kai-Ming wobble towards a chair. Was she his daughter? No, last he recalled, General Kai-Ming Lian had no family. He came to regret not asking her name.

When Zuko rejoined Azula, she instantly began to poke fun at him. “Mai says you were dancing,” she sneered, brows raised in condescending curiosity. He was grateful to Mai for having left out the girl, but still frustrated with Azula for being such a pest.

“I was not,” he huffed as he crossed his arms and turned away from the trio.

“I think you looked great! Just need to keep up with the tempo,” Ty Lee added while flashing him a knowing smile. She had watched him. She saw everything. He was done for. 

Back at the pavilion, the masked girl pushed past a few drunk folks to make way for her and General Kai-Ming. “I think you’ve had enough. Let’s go,” she whispered to him as he flopped down into a nearby chair, nearly spilling the contents of his half-empty cup.

“Kana, were you dancing?! I saw you dancing!” he slurred, tears streaming down his face. 

“Yes, now let’s go before you start drawing any more attention to yourself,” the girl huffed as she struggled to pull him to his feet before too many people started staring. With some strain, she got him to stand and began the painfully long walk back home. 

Once she got to the Lian Estate, she was basically dragging the unconscious giant across the floor before throwing him haphazardly into bed. For a man as disciplined as he was, he just couldn’t say no to a drink or two. The only problem was that one or two drinks were usually followed by many, many more, so the young Kanasu Lian was used to babysitting him from the shadows at social gatherings. Studying his sleeping face, she closed her eyes and shook her head.

“I won’t ever pretend to understand you, Dad,” she chuckled to herself as she pulled a blanket up and tucked him in. After a quick goodnight kiss on the forehead, she quietly shut the door to drown out the sounds of his rumbling snores. In the morning, he’d return to the stoic but stern commanding officer he usually was, and she’d become a simple Fire Nation girl. A simple Fire Nation girl who danced with a member of the royal family, she thought as she played with the feathers of her mask before setting it beside her bed. Her father’s insistence that she socialise more may have been worth it just this once, though she wouldn’t admit it to anyone but herself. 

General Kai-Ming has no family. 

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A Few Years later…

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The bell above the door of a local apothecary shop signalled the arrival of a large stack of boxes with legs, nearly toppling as soon as it entered. A string of hushed curses raged from beneath the stack.

“Need a hand, Dear?” the elderly owner asked with a chuckle.

“I got it, Xuān!” called the voice of the pair of tanned legs behind the boxes. Kanasu was stronger than a normal girl for her age, all thanks to the military-level self-defence training her father put her through four days a week. She huffed as she gently sat down the boxes on the counter and began sorting the contents into drawers along the wall.

“A replenished stock is always a cause for celebration. Tea?” Old Lady Xuān, as she was often referred to around town, invited her assistant with a beckoning smile. The old woman was short in stature with long snow white hair tied into a braid with a yellow ribbon. Her golden eyes curved with her smile as her apprentice took the already-poured cup and sipped it before going back to her inventory. Once a box was emptied into the correct container, Kanasu would write the name of the herb down, along with the quantity, and then take another sip of her hibiscus tea.

Eventually, customers began to filter in. It was a slow day filled with folks complaining of headaches or stomach problems, then receiving small bags of feverfew and lemongrass.

“Heat it for a couple extra minutes and make sure it’s potent. The lemongrass should help the taste, but it will still be quite bitter,” Kanasu instructed as Old Lady Xuān had taught her. At just twelve years old, she made a name for herself amongst the locals as the youngest herbal practitioner in the capital.

“Thank you, truly, Tiny Healer,” her latest client bowed deeply, then shuffled out the door. Kanasu hummed with satisfaction and raised her arms to stretch out her body, only to knock her cup of tea over in the process. With an alarmed gasp, she instinctively flicked her wrists to redirect the hot water before it could spill over the wooden floors. Her hands smoothly twisted, guiding the flow of the tea around her body until it dipped back into the cup. She let out a relieved sigh and ran a hand through the loose strands of black that had escaped her low ponytail. 

“Best be careful with that talent of yours, Kanasu,” Xuān warned as she re-entered the room with the aid of her wooden cane, “The prejudice of the Fire Nation is relentless. Many good people have been lost to it in this war; I’d rather keep my best apprentice.”

“My mistake…” she mumbled with crimson flushed cheeks. She had slipped up. Luckily, Xuān had been aware of her water-bending abilities since she began working at the shop. Kai-ming was an old friend of hers, so she was one of the few trusted individuals who knew both of her skills and their relationship.

“You’re getting better,” she noted with a cheeky smile. Kanasu withheld the urge to grin like a child while staring at her reflection in the murky water of her cup. 

“Oh!” she lit up suddenly, “I finished packing that order you put in. Damiana, chamomile, lavender?” 

“Yes…” Old Lady Xuān’s eyes glimmered with a certain type of sadness, “An old friend of mine is returning home after a long journey. He recently suffered a string of great losses.”

“Well, this is a nice gift to offer with your condolences. I threw in some Ginseng as well,” Kanasu added, carefully tying a white ribbon around the pouch. Xuān had lots of friends, she found; a few older folks who would come to play Pai Sho in the shop owner’s office, some military officers, and not to mention all the people she healed throughout the years. It was an honour to be trained by her, though sometimes she felt more like a mother than a mentor. 

As the sun fell, Kanasu finally finished taking inventory and began her cleanup duties for the night. She swept and dusted everything before saying goodbye to the old lady. After tucking away her herb logging journal in a leather crossbody bag, she started her long journey home. The Lian Estate was a good thirty-minute walk from the shop – not too close but not too far – however, Kanasu usually entered through the back entrance to avoid being seen by anyone. Her father never hired housekeepers, though he had the money and social status to do so. He had told her before that it was simply easier to take care of things himself, but she knew deep down he did it so she could still live with him. The man was cold and ruthless in battle, but he cherished his daughter with his whole being.

General Kai-Ming has no family. 

Kanasu frowned as she caught a glimpse of her reflection in a boutique’s storefront window. Her wavy hair, her stormy eyes, her warm-toned skin; all of her features, she got from her mother, were a testament to her Water Tribe heritage. Those features were why she could never just blend in with the rest of the citizens. She had seen the dirty looks some of the shop customers gave her before they asked for Xuān specifically to treat them, but never paid them any mind. She understood the secrecy was necessary to keep her lineage far away from the prying eyes of the Fire Nation army, but a part of her wanted a normal life.

When the nights were quiet and she would sneak into the back door of her own home, she wondered how different her life would be if she could just be Kai-Ming’s daughter without worry. But that was silly. If he suddenly had a daughter appear after so many years, questions would be asked about her and her mother. Kai-Ming would be deemed a traitor, and Kanasu would be imprisoned just for existing.

So, under the blanketed darkness of the night, she threw her bag over the brick wall first, waiting for it to plop safely onto the ground before moving. She got a running start, then thrust her legs out, pushing herself high enough for her hands to find purchase on the top of the wall, and then she could pull herself over effortlessly. Landing in a squat, she grabbed her bag and rushed inside. She had made that jump several times since she became old enough to work, and it became easier over time.

“Welcome home,” her father called from the kitchen after the door shut behind her.

“What happened this time?” she immediately questioned the older man, noticing the exceptionally tired look on his face as he stirred a pot of soup.

“The Siege of Ba Sing Se has failed. General Iroh has abandoned the city and is returning home. He has lost his son and the crown all at once,” Kai-Ming explained as he ran a hand through his dark hair, pulling it out of the tight top knot he wore during work. It cascaded down his shoulders and settled just below his collarbone, its raven colour mirroring Kanasu’s.

“It’ll go to his brother, Ozai, then, right?” his daughter speculated. Kai-Ming nodded, too lost in his thoughts to see that the soup he was making was about to boil over. His daughter took the wooden spoon from his unmoving hand and stirred for him. 

“Yes, and so soon after the death of Fire Lord Azulon…I do not trust Ozai to lead the Fire Nation in the right direction,” he said gravely, frown deepening with the annoyed scrunch of his brows.

“The Great General Kai-Ming thinking traitorous thoughts? Never thought I’d live to see the day,” Kanasu huffed in fake astonishment as she elbowed her father in the side. His intense expression softened a bit.

“Ironic coming from the living testament to my treachery,” he snapped back in playful rapport. Kanasu let out a loud barking laugh, one she got from her father and only showed when in his company. Deciding to leave the work talk for later, the two settled down to share a nice meal. 

“I’ve been thinking,” Kai-Ming began as Kanasu was halfway through with her bowl, “Maybe it’s time we step up our training regimen.” 

“Move away from the punching bag and onto real fighting?” she guessed with stars in her eyes. Her father nodded, his gaze becoming dangerously dark.

“I want you to be able to stand your ground against my firebending for five minutes,” he clarified. Kanasu dropped her spoon, spitting out her soup and choking on it at the same time. 

She stared at him with giant eyes; “ Five minutes?!”

“You should be there in two weeks,” he shrugged. Kanasu nearly fell out of her chair. In her current state, she could defend herself against her father’s brutal hand-to-hand combat for maybe two minutes and land a couple of solid hits. She’d never faced or even seen his firebending in action, but she knew it was no laughing matter. Her waterbending was self-taught from whatever tomes and scrolls she could find in merchant stalls or libraries she snuck into. Nowhere near his level.

“Monkeyfeathers,” she cursed, smacking her head against the table with a thunk. As much as she dreaded it, the moment they entered the make-shift underground training room (a rather large basement), her stomach fluttered with excitement. She craved strength and, while she didn’t exactly need to fight as an apothecary, she once dreamed of one day fighting alongside her father. The thought was gone now, but he wanted her to be able to protect herself after having seen the horrors of battle. She believed he also wanted her to be able to fight against any soldiers, should she be found out one day.

“Assume your position and attack me first,” Kai-Ming instructed as he raised his hands in a traditional firebending stance. Kanasu took a deep breath, silently praying to Agni before lowering to the ground and bursting forward. 

Like a bat out of hell, she shot towards her father, stopping in front of him to throw a right hook his way. Kai-Ming used his forearms to block the hit, then brought his knee up to hit her in the ribs. She quickly jumped back until she realised he had followed up with a flaming kick. The arc of fire soared above her as she dropped to the ground. 

“Pay attention to your enemy!” Kai-Ming bellowed, thrusting a fireball her way. Kanasu let out a sharp yelp and rolled out of its path. Evasion had always been her speciality because of their size difference, but the added radius of his firebending made it difficult. Her face was starting to sweat as the room heated up. A single bucket of water in the corner of the room was all she had been provided with to power her bending, as the air was quickly becoming too hot to draw water from.

Swinging her leg, she tried to upset her father’s balance, but when he stepped just out of her reach, he launched another wave of fire at her. Kanasu tried to leap over it, but the flames caught her exposed ankle and sent a searing pain through her calf. With a yelp, she dropped to the ground. Her father stepped closer to attack again as her hand twisted, drawing the water from the bucket and using it to whip the side of his leg. He stumbled slightly, and she took advantage of the opening by grabbing his ankle. Kai-Ming hit the ground with a hard thud while his daughter quickly used all her strength to pin down his arms and sit on his chest.

“I…got you!” she teased between heavy breaths. This was the fastest training session they’d ever had; usually, she was the one being pinned within the first few minutes.

“Never assume victory,” he snorted. In a flash, he pulled his arms down, wrapped them around her torso as she fell face-first, and tugged her with him as he rolled. They had switched positions in a fraction of a second. Eyes wide and startled, Kanasu stared up at her father with curious astonishment. She grinned like a playful child, adrenaline pumping through every blood vessel and making her muscles tingle with excitement. “Let’s go again.”

excitement. “Let’s go again.”

Chapter Text

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Chapter Two

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Things didn’t get much better for Kanasu after Ozai came to be the Fire Lord. She was certain that the army had been more present than ever, with more benders being imprisoned and larger troops being sent to the front lines, according to her father. 

“Fathers, mothers…I swear one boy was around your age,” he told her one night after a particularly rough day of work. She knew he hated being a part of this war, but he played his part well. He had begun to come home late at night and was always so exhausted that the bags under his eyes were now a permanent feature of his face. She had joked that his true age was showing once, which earned her a harsh smackdown during training. 

“I don’t think he’s getting any sleep and the energy-revitalising herbs I’ve been putting in his tea don’t seem to help,” Kanasu worriedly explained to Xuān. The older woman took a sip of her drink as she sat down. 

“There’s no herbal remedy for a restless soul. Kai-Ming has always been righteous and true, but he has been plagued by a more vicious nature since the war began. The new Fire Lord has been putting more pressure on his army to capture anyone deemed as a threat, no matter what peace is disrupted in the process. He has created a war within himself as well,” she clarified. Kanasu sighed, sitting her elbow on the counter of the shop before resting her head in her palm.

“Stupid war,” she grumbled with a far-off look in her eyes, “Even the Royal Family isn’t safe.”

The matter of the Royal Family’s misfortune was public knowledge, however disheartening it was. First, the sudden death of Fire Lord Azulon, then Ozai’s wife’s disappearance, followed by General Iroh’s son's passing and the eventual banishment of Prince Zuko. So much in such little time, yet Ozai’s main focus was on his power and success in the war.

The banishment of Prince Zuko had been the talk of the town for the first couple of months – Kanasu heard through a patient who passed by one day – and was right around the time her father’s mental health began to worsen. She pitied the young prince. Even if she only met him briefly, he seemed to have some semblance of decency, unlike others who held positions of power. No one should suffer like that, let alone at a parent’s hand. 

Soon, however, the town gossip mill flowed onward as it always does, and the Agni Kai between the Fire Lord and the Prince was old news. Her father still wouldn’t tell her exactly what happened despite being present for the meeting where everything ensued.

“The Avatar will save us; we just need to wait for them,” Xuān spoke confidently, staring down into her now empty teacup. She smiled.

“The Avatar has been gone for a century. The day they save us is the day I become royalty,” Kanasu laughed as she placed an imaginary crown on her head and waved gracefully. Xuān’s smile grew wider at her antics.

“Kai-Ming said you used to love hearing stories of Avatar Roku’s adventures,” she noted, bringing her apprentice to a halt. The dark-haired waterbender dropped her arms and reminisced fondly of nights in her childhood when her father would read history books that told of Avatar Roku’s great feats.

She shrugged, “They always ended up singing praise for Fire Lord Sozin. I wish I could learn more about the other Avatars.” 

“You are a curious mind, just be careful of who you seek answers from,” Xuān said as she slowly stood up and made her way to the back of the store. “I’ll close today, just lock up on your way out.”

“Yes, Ma’am. Have a good night,” Kanasu bowed to the woman before collecting her things and heading out the door. On her way out, she peeked into Xuān’s teacup. The leaves had settled at the bottom of the cup and formed a dragon. “Big, sudden change, huh?” she murmured, remembering what she had learned from the many tea-reading sessions she’d watched Xuān give in the past.

Walking slower than usual, the young girl took her time getting home so she could enjoy the nice weather. It was always hot in the Fire Nation, so a nice, cool day was well appreciated. 

“I said no thank you!”

Kanasu turned to see a beautiful woman sitting outside a cafe while a military officer stood right next to her. The smug look he gave her and his closeness were not welcome as the girl looked extremely uncomfortable.

“Come on, just one drink. I know a great bar a few blocks from here. You can have a date with the great Hao Duan,” the guard smirked as his hand firmly gripped the woman’s arm. Kanasu could tell he was low-ranking by his uniform, but she knew any officer was a threat to her. Just one wrong move…

“Oh, damn it,” she cursed under her breath as she watched the man try to pull the woman to her feet. 

“Don’t be so rude, now,” Hao laughed in a deep, raspy voice. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Kanasu huffed as she crossed her arms and glared at the officer, “Sister, do you know this man?”

The woman gave her a confused look before catching on, “N-No, I don’t.”

“Well, clearly you’re not wanted here. I suggest you leave before anyone else witnesses your assault on my big sister,” she spoke in a calm tone that sent a shiver down the spine of the guard. The only time he’d seen that unnerving glare was when he was training with General Kai-Ming. 

“You don’t scare me,” he laughed spitefully.

“Honestly, you’re not that scary either. Someone trying this desperately to find a woman must be trying to compensate for a lack in other areas of life. Wealth, status,” she paused to wrinkle her nose, “ hygiene.”

“Brat! Watch your tone!” Hao shouted, raising his hand to strike her. When he noticed the smug smile on his face, he paused and looked around at all the startled and judgmental glares being sent his way. 

“Hitting a kid in front of all these people? Bold move.” Kanasu folded her arms over her chest and raised a dark brow. The officer clenched his fist as it fell to his side, his face now beet red. With a scoff, he swiftly turned and walked away, admitting defeat. A few seconds passed, and the still-seated woman let out a great sigh of relief.

“Thank you so much! He’s always bothering girls around this side of town. I just never thought I’d be next,” she groaned and ran a hand through her hair.

“He’s done this before?” Kanasu asked, watching the retreating man’s back. From her spot, she could see him approach a group of three other officers and panic rose within her. He glanced back at her, and her instincts kicked in. “I must be going, but I wish you a wonderful evening,” she bowed, cutting off the woman.

She quickly ducked into a nearby alley, praying the other guards hadn’t seen her. She sighed, mourning her peaceful walk home as she planned an alternative route. Her father was going to kill her.

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A month after her stressful encounter with the soldier Hao Duan, the sun sat low in the sky as Kanasu sat in the apothecary shop by herself, measuring out some valerian root for order while Xuān made a house call. As she crushed the herb up, she hummed a soft song and allowed her mind to wander. 

The news about the war always stressed her out, yet every night she listened to her father recount what he learned from various meetings and what he thought of the soldiers he trained. As such an esteemed general, Kai-Ming often volunteered to train the new recruits before they were deployed. They often expressed how much of an honour they thought it was, but he’d tell Kanasu afterwards that if she were in one of his classes, she’d whoop all their butts. 

A small smile crossed her face as she reminisced about her childhood years when her father would play-fight with her. She would giggle uncontrollably as he toppled onto the ground, pretending to be wounded by her tiny punches, only to scoop her up once she got close enough and hold her up in the air. Her mother sat in a rocking chair and watched with a warm smile as he ran around with Kanasu held aloft like a toy. Those memories were starting to get blurry, but the fuzzy feeling they gave her remained.

It was only when the sound of the bell ringing above the shop door drew the young girl back into reality that she realised she had stopped grinding the valerian root. With a sigh, she pushed it aside and made her way to the front of the store, where she was greeted by a young couple. Immediately, she noticed the woman holding her round stomach.

“How can I help you?” Kanasu asked as she pulled Xuān’s chair out from behind the desk for the woman. She thanked her as her husband spoke.

“My wife is pregnant, and her nausea has made it so she can barely leave the house. I was hoping there was something you could do to help,” he explained as he gently rubbed the woman’s back. Kanasu raised a brow when she noticed her biting her lip nervously.

“Are you feeling alright, Ma’am?” she asked softly. The woman paused for a minute, facing the floor, before she shook her head and looked up at her husband with teary eyes.

“What if it’s a sign? What if something’s wrong? What if I’m not a good mother?” Her voice cracked, and her husband instantly pulled her into a tight hug. Kanasu’s chest tightened at the sight, wondering if her mother had the same fears before having her. She allowed the couple a moment to themselves as she slipped away to their inventory room.

She held her face in her hands as a heavy sigh rattled her body. Her mother had been in and out of her mind recently, and it bugged her to no end. Deciding she’d ask her father to tell her more about her lineage at a later date, she took a deep breath and began to package some herbs rich in vitamins for cooking and raspberry leaves for tea. Once all the ingredients were secured in cloth pouches, she paused in front of the ginger cabinet. She recalled Xuān saying it was safe for pregnant women in small amounts and the woman outside didn’t seem to be too far along, so she took a moment to brew three cups of tea.

When everything was ready, she re-entered the front of the shop and placed two cups down on the counter for the lady who still had some tears running down her face.

“An herbal mix for nausea and a cup of ginger tea to help the both of you feel a bit more relaxed,” Kanasu explained after the husband threw her a confused look. She bit the inside of her cheek before starting to speak again; “I didn’t know my mother well…but, I don’t think anyone’s ever ready to be a mom. As long as you have it in your heart to be kind and the resources to care for a child properly, you’ll figure out the details as you go. Stuff happens, but you’ll have each other.” 

There was a long pause, in which the woman stared at Kanasu with big glossy eyes that hid the turning gears in her brain.

“Such wise words from someone so young…You’ve had to grow fast, haven’t you?” she mumbled, causing the young girl’s smile to falter slightly.

“A blessing and a curse. Take your time with this one if you can,” her bittersweet chuckle echoed through the room as she turned to the third cup and took a sip.

The family sat for a few minutes, allowing the woman to dry her face before waving a kind goodbye to the young shopkeeper. Kanasu smiled as they left despite the tension in her chest. 

As she swept and cleaned the shop, she thought about her mother again. This time, she wondered about her life before meeting her father. She recalled her father once saying she was from the Northern Water Tribe, but never how they met or who her grandparents were. However, if her mother and father ended up staying in the Fire Nation with the mounting tensions, she doubted he knew. She told herself that once the war was over, she’d travel to the Northern Water Tribe and learn as much as she could about where she came from. With a determined knit of her brow, Kanasu finished up her closing duties quickly in the hopes of beating her dad home. Maybe a good bit of cooking would put her mind at ease. 

After successfully sneaking into her house,  the young herbalist immediately felt something was wrong. A few lights were on inside, but her father wasn’t waiting for her in the kitchen or the training room. An uneasy feeling gathered in the pit of her stomach as she followed the trail of lights down a corridor where she heard faint mumbling. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of a familiar hand resting on the floor, just barely peeking out from behind the door to her father’s study.

“...Dad?” she called as she crept closer. Words were spoken, but she couldn’t make them out. She pulled the door open slowly, fearing the worst and preparing herself to fight any intruders. However, her face fell as she took in the sight of her father sprawled on the ground with a knocked-over ladder and some books lying on top of him.

“Kana, give your old man a hand,” her father slurred, the scent of bad decisions and Fire Nation Whiskey pungent on his breath, “I appear to have fallen.”

“It appears so,” Kanasu sighed. Her father drank often, which occasionally put him in a reading mood, but it took a lot to get him this tipsy. Bars feared him. Their inventory is even more so.

After fetching him a glass of water and plopping him into a large, cushy chair, Kanasu began to clean up his mess. She was easily distracted by the drunken ramblings of her dad as he retold old war stories. At one point, she thought he mentioned the prince and some fight, but he quickly derailed into a story of a time when he wrestled a catgator in the Earth Kingdom. Half an hour of story time (and a five-minute power nap) later, she finished reorganising the books her father dropped. 

“Are you okay?” she asked when she finally took in his ghastly appearance. His hair was falling around him in wildly out-of-place strands as opposed to their usual neatness, and his skin was sickeningly pale. This barely looked like her father. A glass of some type of hard liquor was sitting on the table beside him, and she wondered when he would replace the water. 

“I need to tell you something…something that may change your opinion of me,” he spoke in a grave and broken tone. Kanasu furrowed her brows. She had seen her father drunk and upset before, but he was on the verge of tears now. 

“Okay,” she nodded slowly as she sat in the chair next to him.

“Your mother,” Kanasu’s breath hitched at his words, “was a strong woman. Stronger than I was or ever could be. I was a young, ambitious fool, and my commander at the time had his sights set on the Northern Water tribe.”

Knowing he usually wouldn’t talk about her mother in such detail, Kanasu let him continue out of sheer curiosity.

“The North Pole has yet to fall to the Fire Nation, but we still managed to take some prisoners back in my day. My Kavi was one of them. She was a waterbender on the front lines who had been knocked out by a nasty fall when the snow collapsed beneath her. I was her guard.”

Kavi. The Waterbending Warrior of the North.

“My fellow guards mistreated the prisoners: berating them, beating them, sometimes denying food…But I couldn’t stand it. We’re all fighting a war, but it does not make the other side any less human. The others were still afraid of me, but she noticed. She noticed I gave them extra food. She noticed I was always kind,” Kai-Ming took a shaky breath. Kanasu handed him a tissue as the tears finally began to flow from his eyes. He sniffled and continued, “When we began transporting the prisoners, I stole her away. She trusted me enough to tell her about the escape they were planning and asked for help. I hid her for months with the help of some friends who shared my feelings on this war.”

“Did anyone ever find out?” Kanasu asked quietly, feeling her throat tighten and dry up with each word.

“No. In all the chaos, no one suspected the guards. Some prisoners were recaptured. She had begged me to save them, but I always said it was too late. In reality, I was selfish. I didn’t want to risk her being found if I failed to retrieve the others. I would rather let them rot than lose her, especially after finding out she was pregnant. Oh, I wish you could’ve seen her, Kana. She glowed when she was with you. She loved you, something fierce.”

Kanasu could barely remember her mother’s face. She recalled dark hair, light eyes like hers, and a soft song. She used to think it was a blessing in disguise that she didn’t have many memories with her like her father did. It made mourning her less painful but still not completely painless. That lie she told herself didn’t last long as she missed her mother more and more. She was reminded of this feeling when she’d see families out on the street or worried parents come into the shop to get medicines for their children, like with the mother earlier that day. It was a senseless ache that she could neither place nor get rid of.

“How…” she began, but the words caught in her throat as the first tear fell down her cheek. Her father understood the question.

“She got sick. I begged Lady Xuān to help her, but no medicine worked. By the time you turned five, she could barely sit up. Before your sixth birthday…I made sure my Kavi knew how beautiful she was to the very end,” Kai-Ming broke down. He held his head in his hands and wept, appearing not as the stern soldier Kanasu grew up with but as a grieving father. She stood and hugged the older man, burying her face in the crook of his neck as she felt him shake. They sat there for a long while, embracing the vulnerability they rarely shared. When all that was left was the sound of Kai-Ming’s drunken hiccups, Kanasu loosened her grip and backed away slightly.

“Why are you telling me this? Why now?” she asked with a worry-struck look. Her father stared at the floor, elbows resting on his knees.

“I cannot protect you forever. Those friends I mentioned – the ones that view the war as I do…Should anything happen to you, they will help keep you safe when I’m not able to,” he explained with solemn eyes that reflected his apprehension. Kanasu tensed slightly, a glimpse of the soldier from earlier flashing through her mind. 

“But how will I — “  she was cut off by Kai-Ming placing an elegantly decorated Pai Sho tile in her hand. A white lotus was carved into the wood, which appeared to be hand-painted light pink and white with a baby blue centre that matched her eyes. She had never seen one like it.

“You’ll understand when the time comes. I couldn’t save Kavi, but I will do everything I can to save you,” Kai-Ming grumbled with a voice so deep and stern it sent chills through her body. 

“Dad…” she hesitated.

“Go practice your forms before bed. I need some time to think,” he sighed as he took the decanter at his side and poured himself another glass of liquor.

“Yes, sir,” Kanasu nodded as she slowly exited his office. Closing the door behind her, she lingered outside the room for a moment. Something must have happened to warrant this type of openness from such a closed-off man. Raking a hand through her hair, she let out an agitated groan, then pushed off the door and made her way to her bedroom. No way could she be calm enough to practice waterbending poses after all that! 

Once settled into bed, she found her sleep riddled with visions of her mother and the melody of the lullabies she used to sing. The lyrics were long forgotten in the abyss of her childhood memories, but she could recall the tune that swayed like a boat at sea, rocking her further into slumber. What she wouldn’t remember before waking up would be her father entering her room to whisper a faint goodnight to her with teary eyes.

“Watch over her, Kavi…”

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When she woke, her father was already at work. The young girl got dressed quickly and had a light breakfast, hoping the pit in her stomach would go away if she ate, but to no avail. She finished off her first cup of chamomile tea for the day before deciding to head to work early. She left the empty cup on the counter, not noticing the hourglass-shaped remnants of the tea leaves sprinkled on the bottom. Danger. 

The walk to Xuān’s felt shorter than normal on account of Kanasu’s daydreaming. She was so lost in thought that she almost ran into a poor merchant’s cart and was only pulled back into reality when he yelled at her. She jumped and continued her brisk walk, rushing into the back door of the shop to avoid an argument. Slamming the door behind her back, she let out a long, exasperated sigh.

“Good morning, Xuān!” she called loudly as she slipped on her work apron and gathered the lengthy mass that was her dark hair into a ponytail. 

“Good morning,” Xuān hummed, a cup of freshly brewed tea awaiting her apprentice on the table before her. Kanasu sniffed the cup and smiled.

“Lemon balm. Perennial Herbaceous. Mint family, but smells mildly of lemon. White blooms that blossom in summer. They boost cognitive function, balance moods, and can help with insomnia,” she answered Xuān’s unspoken test. 

“You’ll be ready to run the shop on your own soon. Put this old lady into retirement!” the older woman laughed, though her apprentice just rolled her eyes.

“The people of the Fire Nation would never recover from losing their best herbalist,” she spoke with a joking tone although she meant every word. The shop was thriving because of Xuān and, even though Kanasu was young and extremely gifted, most customers requested her mentor. 

“The earth carries life in everything: the waterbenders sense it in the sea, firebenders draw it from the heat of the atmosphere, the air nomads found it in the wind. As long as it is willing to share, it doesn’t matter which one of us is using its gifts,” Xuān explained in her usual mystical way. 

“Wise and the best tea maker in the world,” Kanasu’s smile grew into a large childish grin. She loved being in the shop because it made her forget all her anxieties and allowed her time to relax, not to mention the satisfaction she got from helping people. Xuān was family and her thick scent of hazel and vanilla would always bring Kanasu comfort, just like clove and sandalwood would remind her of her dad. After years of working with fragrant herbs and spices, her nose has become rather sensitive.

“Oh!” the older lady clapped her hands suddenly, “I plan on trying a new ash banana bread recipe, but I’m missing some ingredients. Care to take a trip to the market and grab a few things for me?” Kanasu nodded and took a small piece of paper from her hands. 

After hanging her apron on the hook next to the door, she made her way to the market. Most of the ingredients were easy to find: some spices from the Earth Kingdom, ash bananas, flour…

“Where am I going to find a moon peach?” she mumbled to herself, squinting at the list while deep in thought. With an agitated grumble, she glanced around nearby stalls. She asked vendor after vendor, but no one seemed to have what she was looking for. Who would even carry air nomad fruit? 

After another thirty minutes of searching, she deflated into a sad, hunched-over lump and admitted defeat. She decided she’d at least supplement the fruit, so she bought a nectarine and would grab some jasmine from the shop’s inventory. Xuān was always experimenting with food and herbs, so it would excite her nonetheless. With her grocery run complete, Kanasu headed back to the shop. 

When the storefront came into view, she stopped walking and frowned. The door was wide open. Xuān especially hated the door being open because of the bugs that would damage the herbs. She had never forgotten to shut the door. The hair on the back of Kanasu’s neck stood up as she crept closer to the shop. Something was wrong. She could hear a man making threats, followed by a hard thunk and the distinct sound of wood being knocked over.

“I know she works here! Where’s the brat that made a fool of me?!” 

Uh-oh.

She recognised that voice. It was the military jerk she publicly shamed. Mentally cursing herself, she silently peeked into the store. There were three men, two of which were much bigger than the man she had humiliated the day before. They stood in front of the door with their backs turned to the front of the shop, blocking her view. She carefully crawled forward to see past them, her eyes going wide.

Old Lady Xuān sat on the floor, her cane knocked onto the floor a few feet away from her. Hao Duan towered over her, face twisted into an angry snarl as he raised a flaming hand to hit the woman. 

“Hey, dill weed!” Kanasu called, standing tall with her fists clenched at her sides, “I’m right here.”

“Oh, you just made this a whole lot easier,” Hao snorted in wicked amusement. 

“Kana, run!” Xuān urged, but her cries fell on deaf ears. 

“Get her,” Hao snapped. All at once, the two guards moved to grab the small girl. Kanasu threw the bag of groceries into the face of the guard on the right and ducked under the arms of the guard on the left before slamming her fist into the open space right below his chest plate. Kai-Ming had always taught her the weak spots of the fire army’s armour, including places where the metal didn’t reach. The left guard fell to his knees while the one on the right finally managed to get the flour off his face and lunged for her again. She side-stepped out of his way and used her elbow to hit him in the back, making him stumble and giving her enough time to tap a pressure point in the back of his neck that made him fall to the ground. 

“How did…Nevermind. Idiots, I’ll get her myself,” Hao scoffed as he ignited his flaming hand and headed towards Kanasu. She threw a punch at his waist,y but he managed to catch her wrist and singe her skin as she cried out in pain. 

“Wait!” Xuān shouted. The irritated officer turned to yell at the old woman, only to receive a handful of ground saffron to the eyes. He stumbled back with a yelp as the spice burned his eyes, his still-aflame hand grasping at the counter. The wood lit up in an instant.

“No!” Kanasu exclaimed as it began to creep up the wall. With a swift flick of her wrist, she instinctively pulled water from the teapot to smother the growing flames. They sizzled into nothing, but the countertop was charred along with her chance at a civil resolution.

“You…you’re a waterbender!” Hao coughed from the spices that assaulted his senses. Kanasu froze, hand shielding her burnt forearm. Without skipping a beat, she turned tail and booked it in the opposite direction of the shop. She pushed past people, knocked over a food vendor's stand, and ducked into alleyways in the hopes of losing the angry officer behind her. Her legs were starting to go numb, but as long as he was still shouting at her, she kept running. She didn’t know where she was running to. She couldn’t go home – not if it meant possibly incriminating her dad. They worried what the fire army would do to her for just being of Water Tribe heritage, but now that she had attacked three officers? 

I’m a traitor.

As her legs began to burn, she cut into a dark alley, watching her attackers run right past. Sweat rolled off her brow at a slow pace that contrasted with her rapid heartbeat, although she had yet to take a breath. With her body successfully hidden behind some boxes, she allowed the sob she had been holding back to rattle through her body. The pain from her burned arm was now settling in as her adrenaline faded. She had been burned by her father’s fire before but Hao’s felt… angrier… somehow. A violent shade of red coated the top of her forearm and crept up past her elbow from when he had yanked his hand away.

I’m a failure.

Kai-Ming and Xuān always warned her about waterbending. Why couldn’t she listen? The shop was Xuān’s whole life but it could be rebuilt. She only put herself in more danger. Her dad – it was late – he was probably worried. Was Xuān okay? Did the army know where she was? Was her father already aware she had been found? 

“Oh, Agni…” Kanasu sobbed, face buried in her hands. It was growing dark out by the time her tears calmed and her head quit pounding long enough for her to think. First and foremost, she needed to dress her wound. She had no herbal remedies to help the pain or prevent infection, so the least she could do was wrap it. Tearing off a sliver of the bottom of her tunic, she wrapped it around her burn with gritted teeth. With her arm bandaged, she took a deep breath and considered a quick stop at her house. Despite all her father’s instructions to flee as fast as possible should she be discovered, she was desperate to say goodbye to him and let him know she was okay. The Fire Nation was no longer safe and she had no other family or friends to turn to. 

After waiting another hour just to be safe, Kanasu slowly slunk around in the shadows until she neared her home. She crept inside as she usually did, only to find her father was waiting for her in the foyer. A long beat of silence followed her entrance as they stared at each other. When she finally opened her mouth to speak, Kai-Ming pulled her into a crushing embrace. She could feel his body shake from the heavy sigh, relief flooding out of him in trembling waves.

“You’re okay,” he spoke as if he was reassuring himself more than examining her.

“For the most part,” Kanasu sighed, burying her face in his chest. Kai-Ming released her, only to grab her arm and slowly pull the cloth off.

“That idiot,” he growled as he examined the nasty burn. It irritated him to no end that he couldn’t have the officer punished.

“I’m alright, Dad. I just came…to say goodbye,” Kanasu’s voice cracked as she rewrapped her arm. Kai-Ming nodded with lips pressed firmly together.

“I had a small boat prepared for you down at the docks. Be careful,” he explained, eyes shiny and red. He turned around for a moment as he messed with something on the table behind him, only to present her with a black cloak. He draped it over her shoulders and then clasped it over her chest, pulling up the extra fabric in front of her face to shield her.

“I’ll come back once all of this is over,” his daughter promised softly. She no longer looked like the little girl who used to watch him sign papers at his desk or train with him. Now, she was afraid and uncertain, but tough like her mother. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her once more. His bittersweet scent made her tears fall harder. 

“I love you, Kana…”

“I love you too, Dad.”

Just like that, she was slipping back into the night. The creaking of the closing door behind her sent a chill down her spine and she wondered if her promise would prove true with time. She would come home someday, but for now, the nation she grew up in had abandoned her. 

The docks were quiet except for a few fishermen preparing for the next day. At the very end of the landing, she found a small rowboat with a tarp over it waiting for her. She stepped into it and began rifling through the supplies left under the tarp. Some rations were stashed away in a messenger bag – probably enough for four days if she really cut back – which sat beside a pouch full of various medicinal herbs. She tied it to the cloth belt on her shirt and moved on to a knife holster she strapped to her thigh for emergencies. Digging around a bit more, she found a gas lantern to help light her way. Lastly, a scroll and map were left folded up and stuffed into a wooden capsule. Her shaky fingers pulled it open and she began to read.

“Find a better life in the Earth Kingdom. Go the long way around the islands, the navy is fierce. Be careful.”

Kanasu lingered on his words with a small smile, only to frown when she looked towards her food supply. She’d be hungry for the next week, but she’d survive. Sighing, she tucked away the scroll and began undocking the boat. She rowed until she was out of sight then used her waterbending to push it along even quicker. If she kept her pace, she could cut down her travel time by a couple of days. If she was correct, she’d end up somewhere near Omashu. If Ba Sing Se stood its ground against the Great Dragon of The West, she could start a life there without the worry of being captured, although the thought brought a sinking feeling to her gut.

Looking back, the young girl watched the only home she’d ever known fade away into the horizon. Her job, her family, her aspirations – gone. She could only hope the Earth Kingdom would prove kinder to her.

Chapter Text

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Chapter Three

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Kanasu lounged in her boat, watching the clouds pass by while the sea rocked her gently from side to side. If it weren’t for the existential fear of being captured by the Fire Nation and the sudden loss of contact with her family, it would have been a nice trip out at sea. Her body shivered slightly at the thought of being apprehended as she sat, leaving the tide to roughly tug her along. Her arms hurt from rowing for hours, and waterbending her way through the choppy waves was starting to exhaust her, too. She couldn’t help but think that if her dad were here, he would try to teach her the perfect way to pluck one of the fish from the schools that swam beneath her. Barehanded, of course.

She was three days into her trip and found herself more tired than anything. She had food, though she hadn’t eaten much on account of her slim rations, and she was moving faster than she thought she would. Better yet, she hadn’t seen a fire navy ship since leaving the island! Or anyone for that matter . All things considered, she was looking forward to seeing what the Earth Kingdom was like. Maybe she could finally try grilled crab urchin! Xuān tried to imitate the flavour once, but even though Kanasu thought it tasted good, the old woman said the original was much better. Her stomach growled at the thought as she glanced at her half-empty bag of food. 

By day six, she began to feel the harsher effects of the sun beating down on her. Her body was far too hot, making her more tired than before, and she didn’t have any aloe. She didn’t seem to burn yet, most likely because of her Water Tribe heritage, but it was still uncomfortable. Her burned arm had healed for the most part, but she was left with a nasty scar. Her food was growing slim, so she split her rations in half again. She was hungry. So very, very hungry.

When night came around, the world seemed to turn on its head. She had wrapped the cloak and the tarp her dad had left around herself to keep from freezing. Inside the cloak, she had sewn a small pocket that held her pai sho tile. She held it when she thought of home too much, but it kept her determined. The further she got from the Fire Nation, the colder the nights got. She kept her lantern close, lit only during the chilly nights to savour what little heat it gave. She wasn’t even sure she was going in the direction of the Earth Kingdom anymore, but she had to hit land soon. The main downside was that she hadn’t found any islands to stop and rest at. 

The one good thing about being stranded in the middle of the ocean, she found, was that she couldn’t get this good a view of the stars anywhere else.

“I think you’d like this, Mom,” she whispered to herself. Kavi used to tell her stories about star-gazing most nights when she lived in the Northern Water Tribe and how they sparkled amidst the darkened sky like the purest of gemstones. In her time alone, she had begun to remember the lullaby her mother used to sing to her as a little girl during the nights she spent rocking her to sleep. The lullaby often followed the stories, so it was easier to piece together the bits and pieces she first remembered.

Sometimes when I look in the mirror, 

I still see your face resting on my shoulder,

And my heart beats so fast that I start to feel alive again.

Kanasu hummed along as she closed her eyes and envisioned her mother’s warm arms wrapped tightly around her, promising safety and unconditional acceptance. Tiny hands reached up to grasp the luscious dark brown curls that framed her sun-kissed face, making Kavi’s azure eyes sparkle with delight. She connected her forehead to Kanasu’s and continued to sing.

And the rain it washes away all the pain

‘Cause it feels like the sound of your voice,

And I’m comforted by the sweet smells of dew

Because the sunrise reminds me of you…

The melody drifted away as Kanasu was lulled to sleep, now mindlessly mumbling nonsense instead of her mother’s song. When she finally fell into a deep slumber, her dream quickly turned into a nightmare. 

Instead of her mother’s bright face, twisted images of her father and Xuān flashed through her mind. Flames burned around both of them, consuming their bodies as they called out to her.

“Kana, why did you abandon me?” Xuān cried as the fire swallowed her whole. Kanasu tried to reach out to her, but the heat kept her back. It felt so real. 

“I didn’t want to! I tried…I tried!” she shouted, losing sight of her mentor as she disappeared beneath the flames. The terrified girl spun around in desperation, only to be met with a raging vision of her father.

“ You’re a worthless girl and a failure of a daughter. I hope the sea swallows you whole, ” Kai-Ming growled with his fist ready to attack. He swung as the fire roared around her, but she brought her hand up to catch his fist. When she managed to hold him back, he only grew stronger, pushing her back a few feet with a kick to the gut. Kanasu tried to run but the fire wrapped around her leg like a vine and pulled her down. Her previously injured arm felt as if it would melt off from the pain as her hand emerged from the fire to tug at her skin, causing her to cry out as she was dragged deeper into the searing heat. 

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“It’s late, Prince Zuko. The men are exhausted, and I know you must be too,” General Iroh spoke as he approached his nephew with worry glistening in his eyes. A battle-scarred Zuko clenched his fists as he stared off into the darkened sea, watching the horizon intently. Dark clouds lingered above, hiding away the stars that were so clearly visible earlier that night. 

“I cannot rest when the Avatar is out there. The crew can switch shifts again. I will stay,” he snapped bitterly. Iroh sighed and shook his head.

“We have guards posted around the clock. Should he or she arrive, you’ll be known as the prince who captured the Avatar in his sleep!” he joked with a large goofy grin. When Zuko didn’t budge, his expression fell. He understood why this doomed manhunt meant so much to his nephew; he just wished his brother‘s cruelty didn’t weigh so heavily on him. Before he could even open his mouth to plead with the teen again, Zuko raised his spyglass and leaned closer to the railing of the ship.

“Do you see that?” he asked his uncle, staring at a faint light far off in the distance. Iroh squinted at the small flickering glow as the small vessel it was attached to slowly came into view.

“It looks like a quaint little fishing boat,” he mumbled with clear confusion. They both recognised the fact that such a small boat was not usually this far from land. Zuko shouted an order for the helmsman to slowly approach, and as it bobbed closer, the two could make out a cloaked figure hunched over in the centre of the craft. Their face was hidden beneath the mop of black hair matted to their face by the waves that splashed over the side of the boat. They tightly held a small lantern that was barely shielded from the saltwater and on the verge of being extinguished.

“There’s someone inside,” Zuko reported with a concentrated scowl. 

“Perhaps a spirit guiding us towards our destiny,” Iroh hummed thoughtfully as he stroked his beard.

“Should we bring them aboard, sir?” a nearby guard asked. Zuko paused, scanning the obscured form of the wanderer long enough that Iroh considered the fact that he might not answer at all. 

After an especially tall wave crashed into the lantern and finally snuffed out the faint flame, the general responded instead. “Prepare a room and bring in the weary traveller!” He clapped his hands together, Zuko glaring at him with an alarmed grimace.

“They could be a spy from the Earth Kingdom, and you want to just invite them onboard?!” Zuko shouted in disbelief. Iroh shook his head and turned to watch a few soldiers throw a rope to the boat to haul it in.

“Not everyone is your enemy, Prince Zuko. Sometimes a person is just lost and in need of a helping hand,” he explained as the crew secured the boat and then dragged the limp and shivering body on board.

“She’s out cold,” one of them noted. 

“She?” Zuko stepped closer with his usual frown deepening. He pulled back their hood cautiously, the fabric heavy and cold from all the seawater it absorbed. Once the thick mop of black hair had been brushed aside, the face of a young girl, perhaps around Zuko’s age, was revealed, sun-toasted skin a sign that said she’d been outside for too long. His eyes lingered on her for a moment, watching the way her body trembled thanks to the wind and her drenched clothes. She wasn’t dressed for sea-faring weather, so what was she doing out in the middle of the ocean this late at night?

“She looks ill. Let’s get her warmed up, then you can interrogate her,” Iroh suggested, noticing the torn look in his nephew’s eyes. Zuko nodded slowly in agreement.

“Put her in a spare room and post a guard outside the door. No one goes in or out,” he ordered as his soldiers dragged the wandering stranger away. He sighed quietly through his nostrils, head hung in exasperated defeat. Iroh placed a supportive hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off and began to walk away; “I’m going to my quarters. Come get me when she wakes up.”

Iroh smiled softly at his stubbornness, then glanced in the direction of the stranded girl with his brows furrowed in concern. What did fate have in store for them now?

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Kanasu bolted upright, a cold sweat dripping down her face and back. She buried her face in her hands and let out a deep, agitated groan as the pained faces of her father and Xuān burned through the back of her eyelids. She couldn’t tell if it was the visions or because of how fast she sat up, but the world spun around her so quickly that she was sure she was going to be sick. Cursing her restless night terrors, she rubbed her shaking hands together in hopes of warming herself up and pulled her blanket closer …Blanket? When did I…get a…blanket?

She paused at the realisation that she could no longer feel the forceful shifting of her boat on the rough waves, now only a smoother rocking as she moved along. She was in a small cabin that didn’t look entirely like a prison, with soft sheets on the bed and her empty bag placed on a nightstand to her left. The rounded window to her right confirmed that she was still at sea, though now travelling on a much larger ship. Although she was glad to be out of the cold, Kanasu knew she couldn’t let her guard down just because someone took her in and gave her a bed. Relief flooded through her as she patted her hip to feel for her dagger, fingers gripping the cool metal. Her clothes and hair were still wet, so she waved her hand and drew the water off her body, then wrapped herself in the blanket for warmth.

The longer she sat, the more anxious she grew. No good would come from just waiting for whoever saved her to appear, so she threw her legs over the edge of the bed and tried to stand. Her head spun again as her first step proved fruitless, and she instantly dropped to the floor. She groaned and clutched the edge of the bed with white knuckles, vaguely aware of the door opening as her vision swayed. How had she let herself get this bad?

“Sleep well?” Slowly, she raised her head to meet the amber eyes of the older man who was standing in front of the door with a tray in hand. The ornate tea set he held was beautiful, and his smile was kind, offering a strange passiveness to the startled girl. “We found you unconscious in your boat. You weren’t well equipped for the weather, and you were out of food,” he explained calmly. Kanasu clenched her fists in annoyance. “I’ll brew the tea in front of you if you don’t mind,” the older gentleman nodded as he took a seat a few feet away from her. Kanasu didn’t sense any danger from him, though he did look familiar. She had seen him once in Xuān’s shop many years ago…

Her eyes widened in realisation as he blew a gentle stream of fire into the teapot to heat the water. Of course, the universe would land her on a Fire Nation ship. The firebender in front of her was much older now than when she saw him playing Pai Sho, but how could she ever forget the face of the man once in line for Fire Lord? Kai-Ming had drilled politics into her from a young age and kept her up-to-date on everything from faction movements to the training progress of the recruits. Even then, it had been a while since she heard of General Iroh, the Great Dragon of the West. When the living legend looked up at her, she bowed with her forehead and palms touching the floor. 

“There’s no need for that,” he waved his hand and chuckled heartily. Slowly, Kanasu rose and dragged herself back into bed. She straightened her posture before noticing the glint of amusement in Iroh’s amber eyes. 

“Your clothes say you’re Fire Nation,” he raised a brow, only for her to turn away with a beet-red face and a sinking feeling that she knew where this conversation was going, “but your eyes say otherwise. Perhaps a perfect blend of two opposing worlds? A daughter of fire and ice is a rare sight indeed.”

“Rare, but not impossible,” she croaked out in a voice so raspy it surprised them both. A frown marred her face as she turned her gaze towards the small window beside the bed.

“Right. Not impossible.”

A serene silence fell over the room. Kanasu signed and let her head fall in defeat. She was captured by Fire Nation royalty. What now? Hand-delivered to the Fire Lord himself? Executed for infiltrating a land that wouldn’t claim itself her home? Whatever it was, she wondered if she could get a bite to eat beforehand…

“May I know your name at least?” Iroh asked with a gentle smile that told her he wasn’t trying to pry. She learned from her father that Iroh was a kind man, even in the heat of battle. 

“Kanasu, but you can call me Kana,” she stated simply as she watched the waves dance along outside the window. 

“A beautiful name for a beautiful young lady,” Iroh spoke charmingly as he poured the fully brewed tea. He placed a cup on Kanasu’s nightstand, which she eyed cautiously but ultimately took after he began to drink. She sipped gingerly, relishing in the delicately sweet taste of jasmine. The flavour reminded her of Xuān’s shop and the taste tests she received on those warm mornings. 

“Thank you for your hospitality, General Iroh,” she bowed her head. 

“It’s nice to know some young people still have manners! I know someone who could learn a thing or two from you,” the old man’s bellowing laughter echoed through the cabin as he bounced with joy. Kanasu cocked her head, dark curls falling over one shoulder as she knit her brows in confusion.

Before either could speak again, an enraged voice shouted from beyond the door, “I said no one in or out, what don’t you understand?! That includes my uncle!” 

“Please excuse my nephew, he’s been through a lot. I apologise in advance,” the general sighed as a bead of anxious sweat fell down his temple.

“Your…nephew…?” Kanasu mumbled with eyes wide in shock. She, a waterbending enemy of the Fire Nation who attacked military officers, had been brought aboard a ship belonging to the prince .

Oh, monkeyfeathers.

The door swung open, and an irate Prince Zuko stormed in, eyes already locked onto his uncle. He froze when he looked between him and the girl, both still holding their teacups. “You're having tea with the prisoner?!” he growled through his tight frown as he glared daggers at his elder. The General shrugged.

“Miss Kanasu has proved quite the intriguing company. Perhaps you could sit down and join us?” he suggested, only to be ignored. Kanasu was careful not to show her shock when Prince Zuko turned to her, and she took in the sight of his ghastly scar. The angry burn stretched over his eye and down part of his cheek. She had heard whispers of the aftermath of the prince’s fight with Fire Lord Ozai, but she never imagined it was this bad. The man was a tyrant to his kingdom and his family, justifying her father’s hidden disdain for him even more so.

“You,” he took a threatening step towards Kanasu, only to pause when he met her slate-blue eyes, “who are you?” When she did nothing but shoot him a bored look, he took another step closer. “If you’d like to be thrown back into the water, then be my guest,” he snapped as he grabbed her injured wrist, earning a sharp hiss in response. Ignoring Iroh’s protesting shouts, Zuko dragged the girl out of bed with one hand until she was forced to stand; “I’ll ask you again. Who. Are. You?”

“Prince Zuko, that is quite enough! Can’t you see she’s hurt?” Iroh demanded, drawing attention to the bandages crawling up Kanasu’s arm that was held aloft. Zuko tightened his grip on her, a warning before he reluctantly let her go. She hid her injured arm beneath her cloak but stood tall nonetheless. Challenging the prince’s fiery gaze with her own, a surge of electric tension rippled between the two. It was such a deep animosity for one another that it could only be classified as a mutual loathing. Zuko growled frustratedly before he turned on his heels and stormed out of the room, first impression unfortunately made.

“Throw her in a cell,” he hissed to the guard outside her room as he left. 

Despite Iroh’s frequent apologies, Kanasu was placed in one of the few holding cells the old navy ship had below deck. She didn’t fight, she didn’t yell, she just sat in silence and wondered how she’d get out of this mess. Kai-Ming would have been pissed if he knew she let herself get caught, but the good thing was that she couldn’t exactly return to the Fire Nation on the ship of the banished prince. If he wanted to keep her prisoner, then she only needed to comply long enough to hatch an escape plan. First, she needed to know how the guards moved, when they changed shifts, what the layout of the ship was, and how many were on board; there was so much to do. If only her head would stop spinning.

A proper escape plan would not be made in one night, so she bundled herself up in the blankets the guards allowed her to keep and curled up into a ball. The lanterns that lined the hallways kept the ship well-lit, yet the shadows in her cell were endless. Sleep was out of the question; she needed to be alert if the snobby prince came back, and the visions of her father and Xuān plaguing her mind made sure of that. 

She missed them. She missed them more than she could fathom. It was during quiet times like these that she was hit with the full reality of her situation. She was a criminal. Her father would simply move on as if he had never had a daughter in the first place. “General Kai-Ming has no family,” she would always remind herself like a twisted mantra. Xuān would continue to run the shop without her. Would she hire another apprentice? Did their customers begin rumours about the Water Tribe spy that hid amongst them?

The what-ifs ran rampant in her mind as she hugged her knees tighter to her chest. Once she was far from the eyes of the Fire Nation military, she’d send a message; one to Xuan and one to her father. They needed to know she was okay, and she needed any confirmation that they weren’t angry with her, so she could rid herself of these awful night terrors. Resting her head against the wall to her right, Kanasu sat, curled up and watching the guards idly chatter until new soldiers came to relieve them of their post in the morning. She committed to memory how long it took for the guards to switch, grey-blue eyes observing every minute movement beneath the shadows.

After an already restless night, Prince Zuko came to interrogate her again. He appeared while Kanasu picked at her bandages, silently wondering if she could ask for more. Based on the sympathetic glances they threw her way, the guards seemed to pity her. A useful tool, but pity didn’t always equal a desire to help.

“Are you ready to cooperate?” he scowled down at her, burning suns boring into lightning-riddled storm clouds.

“You know my name. What else do you want?” she spoke in cool defiance, voice now clear of its prior grating. 

“Why were you out here?” Zuko asked as he took a step closer to the cell bars.

“I was travelling to the Earth Kingdom,” Kanasu answered with a sigh. Respect was earned, and this spoiled brat had done nothing but shout and snap at her, yet he still expected cooperation? Like father, like son, I guess.

“In such an unprepared boat? Who sent you?” he hissed as the vein in his forehead became more apparent, along with his annoyance.

“Who knows? The universe? Agni himself?” she scoffed, standing to stretch her limbs after sitting for too long. Her joints let out a series of loud pops, and a wave of satisfying relief flooded over her at the use of her tense muscles.

“You sound like my uncle.” Zuko’s unamused frown only warranted a dry laugh from Kanasu.

“Your uncle’s a wise man. More fun to talk to. Less bratty,” she snorted at his angry snarl. She could make games out of toying with the prince all day, but she was growing tired and needed off this ship. “Where are we going?”

“I'm the one asking the questions here,” he refuted her question with his arms crossed in bitter defiance like an angry child. Kanasu eyed him for a moment, then took a few slow, calculated steps out of the shadows, much like a snake slithering out of tall grass. Her cloak had been abandoned in the corner, but she still approached the bars of her cell and stood toe-to-toe with the banished prince. She noticed the way his eyes fell to the dirty bandages on her arm, and she could only imagine what a sight she was after nearly a week out at sea.

The qipao she wore the night she fled was a dingy, dirty display, the lack of sleeves showing just how far up her bandages spiralled. They wrapped around her palm, then coiled up her forearm, past her elbow, and up to her shoulder. She hadn’t looked at the wound, but it felt better now that she was out of the harsh sunlight, though the white fabric was still stained a light pink from her blood. Her hair stuck to her face with sweat, and she smelled distinctly of sea salt.

“Let me out of here,” she ordered without malice or frustration. It felt more like a suggestion, but still far from begging.

“You think you have the power to make demands?” Zuko sneered down at the girl, just barely taller than her but still holding enough muscle that he could overpower her if a fight ensued. Even with all the training her dad supplied her with and an entire ocean at her disposal, she wasn’t stupid enough to tempt the prince into a battle. He wasn’t yet aware that she was a waterbender, and she wanted to hold that card as close to her chest as possible.

“I think you underestimate me, Captain Ponytail,” she hummed as she leaned against the prison bars, her elbows supporting her. 

“Who’s the one in a jail cell?” Zuko ridiculed the raven-haired girl with his arms over his chest. She hummed in agreement.

“Touché,” came her nonchalant response. She caught the smoke that emerged from his clenched fists. With one swift turn of his heels, the hot-headed prince was storming down the hallway, effectively ending the interrogation. When Kanasu locked eyes with the guard posted to the side of her cell, she crossed her arms over her chest and sighed, “Is he always like this?” The older man nodded.

With a snort, she returned to her corner and watched the guards change shifts: once at night, once in the morning, and once more during lunch. She listened in on meaningless gossip as they moved about, learning which guards were more likely to be a problem for her and who didn’t like whom. Unsurprisingly, Prince Zuko’s poor attitude was a hot topic amongst his troops. She almost felt bad for him. Almost

The next day came just as slowly as the last, with Kanasu’s refusal to sleep finally becoming more noticeable. Iroh was the first to comment on the dark bags forming under her eyes when he brought her some tea in the morning.

“I know it’s not easy to sleep in these conditions, but you need rest, my dear,” he said in a soft voice that was painfully similar to Xuān’s. He sat across from her in the cell (he was the only person who would enter with her) and poured a cup of tea. She noticed the earthy undertones to the sweetness and looked up through her lashes as she sipped.

“Chamomile,” she raised a brow slightly at his silent attempt to help her. 

“You’re quite good, Miss Kana! You can guess anything I throw at you! I only wish we had more flavours available,” Iroh chuckled heartily. He must have noticed the bittersweet smile she wore because his friendliness turned to sympathy. “Excuse me for prying, but is everything alright?” he asked softly as she distracted herself with another drink.

“You are a lot like…an old friend,” she explained with a painful longing tightening in her chest. 

“Charming, I hope,” Iroh joked, stroking his beard with a prideful yet goofy grin.

“Yes,” Kanasu giggled, “Charming and wise. She had many friends and always made people feel better, no matter if she could actually cure their ailments or not.” She smiled to herself as she spoke of Old Lady Xuān, the fondest of memories replaying in her mind. She laughed to herself, “Sometimes I couldn’t tell who was hardheaded, her or my father.” 

“What was your father like?” Iroh questioned without an ounce of intrusive demand, but with amiable curiosity. Kanasu was happy to share. They both knew she needed this. 

“My father’s strong but gentle. Loving but stern. He made sure I could protect myself when he wasn’t there, and he would have seriously hurt someone if he was,” her voice broke slightly, but she covered it with a forced laugh, “He’s the best chef in the world. I inherited only half his talent.” Her thumb absentmindedly rubbed the handle of her teacup, and she went quiet.

“Can I ask why such a gifted chef left home?” 

She bit the inside of her cheek nervously, still not ready to face what she’d done. “I…was never meant to be there,” she stated simply, staring at her reflection in the murky water of her drink. Agni, she was a mess.

Iroh placed a warm hand on the back of hers and spoke with the wisdom of an old sage, “Home is never where you are, but who you are with.” The compassion and genuine care the general showed for a mere half-blooded enemy of the Fire Nation made Kanasu’s eyes water. He could recognise a foe, but a true enemy she did not make. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she gnawed on her bottom lip to keep it from quivering.

“In all honesty, I had expected you to be more ruthless. The Great Dragon of the West is surprisingly kind,” she laughed somewhat pathetically as she wiped her eyes. Guilt, sorrow, and longing constricted around her heart until sharp pain filled her chest.

“Everyone is capable of kindness. Sometimes it takes time to draw it back out after it has been smothered for so long,” Iroh explained with an inkling of sadness woven into his words. It was obvious that they were no longer just talking about her. Kanasu knew it was unlikely that she would get another opportunity to ask the questions she had about Prince Zuko, so she steeled her nerves and tested the boundaries of their conversation.

“I heard about the Agni Kai. Rumours spread, so it was impossible to tell how much was true,” she worded carefully.

“Yes, it was hard to watch. The banishment has taken quite a toll on him. He’s jaded, to say the least,” the older man admitted with a soft sigh. Kanasu thought jaded was an understatement, but she’d keep her musings to herself for now. However, there was one thing she didn’t quite understand.

“He was banished nearly two years ago. Why is he still at sea and not settled down in the Earth Kingdom somewhere?”

Iroh hesitated at this question, regaining some sort of composure. “After my brother ruthlessly defeated his son in battle, he sent him on a quest to break his spirit as well,” he explained while closing his eyes as if it would dampen the harsh reality of his words.

“A quest? What’s he looking for?” Kanasu tilted her head inquisitively. Iroh nodded before clarifying.

“His honour, or so he believes. Prince Zuko was told he could return home if he captured the Avatar.”

Kanasu stared at Iroh for a few seconds, waiting for him to laugh or crack a smile. When neither came, her jaw dropped in disbelief.

“ The Avatar?! Like the saviour of the world, missing for 100 years, Avatar?!” she shrieked in surprise. 

“He’s been searching every day since he left,” the general told her as he reheated his tea with his hands. Kanasu let his words stew in her mind for a bit, unsure of what to think. The Zuko she danced with – the Zuko that wasn’t even a prince yet – had been shy and caught her attention immediately. She couldn’t recall if it was intrigue or mischief that drew her to ask him for a dance on the night of the festival, but it was one of the most daring things she had ever done. Now, however, the pompous royal was standoffish and filled with resentment for every living thing. He brought her onto his ship just to accuse her of being a spy. The two boys she met were complete opposites, yet still the same person, and it baffled her. She couldn’t blame him for hardening after everything he had been through. In the few conversations she had since leaving the Fire Nation, she could tell she was starting to do the same. Zuko was like her in that way; they were both children who wanted nothing more than to go home.

Kanasu jumped at the sound of approaching footsteps, an unexpected heat rising to her cheeks. As if summoned by the mere mention of his name, Zuko appeared from down the corridor with his characteristically grim demeanour on full display.

“Really?” he deadpanned.

“I’m gathering information!” the old man beamed, which brought a small smile to Kanasu’s face. 

“What could you possibly learn over tea?” Zuko huffed as his lips formed a fine line of annoyance. Kanasu knew what little she shared with Iroh about her background was going to stay between them, though she still awaited his reply with a curious tilt of her brow.

“I learned Miss Kanasu is a wonderful conversationalist and that we may have found a new chef!” he answered, drawing a choked laugh from the girl. Zuko looked like he wanted to punch a hole in the wall, but he opted for letting out a low, aggressive growl instead. 

“Hungry, Firefly?” Kanasu asked with a cocky smile as she leaned to the side to look past Iroh and tease his nephew. 

“We are not letting her out of this cell,” Zuko rejected with an unamused scoff. Kanasu watched Iroh exit the cell and stand beside the bratty prince.

“I think it would be a good opportunity to learn more about our new friend! If you let her get comfortable, she may tell you what you want to know,” he explained with a subtle wink and then disappeared down the hall. Zuko stared after his uncle and then looked back at the girl, who was finishing off her cup of tea.

“What are you planning?” he accused while squinting as if he was trying to see through her.

She shrugged, voice carrying a playful lilt, “Lunch, Your Highness. I’m thinking potato stew.” The longer she looked at him, the more she thought about what Iroh said. She had some questions of her own, but first, she needed to achieve a certain level of rapport. Cooperation was more likely to get her access to new parts of the ship, but that didn’t mean she had to be nice about it. She’d go crazy if she didn’t make her own fun. “You can restrain me and keep asking stupid questions if you’d like, but I think everyone would be happier after a nice hot meal,” she offered her wrists with a taunting smile. The two guards outside her cell glanced toward each other with sparkling eyes.

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose and gave an annoyed grumble. “Fine,” he spat, ultimately caving in.  A guard brought out some shackles for her wrists, and the prince unlocked the cell, only to step inside with her. She held her breath when he marched forward and clamped the cold, heavy metal over her skin. 

“Happy?” Kanasu jostled the chains to show she couldn’t get out.

“Shut up,” the angry prince snapped. He exited the cage and began walking, two guards following on either side of the prisoner. Her eyes turned dark and lowered like they had when she sat in the shadowy corner of her cell as she regained that sharpened predatory look. She analysed every inch of the ship that they passed through, filing it all away in her mind for her escape plan. There wasn’t much, but she would take anything if it meant a chance at freedom.

“Sir, yes, sir,” she grumbled under her breath.

Chapter Text

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Chapter Four

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Kanasu knew the ship was old from the moment she was thrown behind rusty cell bars and spent her night listening to the groaning creaks of metal. It surprised her that the prince was given such a degraded and war-torn ship, but then again, the Fire Nation wasn’t the most considerate towards people it hated. So what else should she have expected? Certainly not the most out-of-commission kitchen she had ever seen. Sure, she had only ever used her kitchen back at her father’s estate, which was rather luxurious in and of itself, but she was now regretting her decision to cook for the crew. The kitchen Zuko led her to was small, with a single pantry for storage that was stocked with random ingredients. 

“No meats or anything too high in protein besides some eggs and tofu…Agni, what have you been surviving off of?” Kanasu scrunched her face at the ghastly sight and obvious lack of expertise amongst the staff. She looked unimpressed as she glanced over her shoulder at Zuko, who hadn’t moved from his spot in front of the door since they arrived. “Who’s your cook?”

One of the guards standing to the side stepped forward and answered hesitantly, “I double as the chef.”

“Do you have any experience in a kitchen?” A long silence filled the room. Kanasu squinted, waiting for the man to speak again. Her face paled, and she buried her head in the pantry in shame. “I’m afraid you’re doomed, Captain.”

“Quit it,” Zuko smouldered, his white-knuckled grip tightening around his folded arms. You cook with what we have and answer my questions. That was the deal.”

When Kanasu reared her head out of the pantry, she frowned at how one-sided her situation sounded. In reality, she gained the crew's trust with this little display, and Zuko would get as much surface-level information as possible – stuff that wouldn’t hurt for him to know. By the time he was welcomed back into the Fire Nation, she would be long gone and none of what he knew would matter.

“Ask away,” she shrugged, arms filled with whatever ingredients she deemed usable. A nice potato stew should suffice.

“Tell me where you were going,” Zuko demanded as he watched her search the cabinets for supplies.

“Like I said, I was heading towards the Earth Kingdom.”

“ Why?”

“I wanted a fresh start. My previous life was not kind to me. Now, how do I…?” Kanasu huffed in confusion when she turned to face the stove. There were no matches in the room, so how was anyone expected to ignite it without – 

A flaming hand emerged from behind her, causing her to leap out of her skin. Although the heat merely passed by her to light the stove, she couldn’t help the racing of her heart or the way she instinctively clutched her burnt arm. Hao Duan’s sneering face flashed through her mind, but she quickly pushed it aside to focus on her aggravation with the prince. Before she could speak, he started his interrogation again.

“Someone was after you.” His words were more a statement than a question. Kanasu bit her tongue to keep from using some particularly colourful language to convey just how irritated she was.

“Lucky guess,” she scoffed and turned her back to Zuko, “I pissed off some people I shouldn’t have, and they chased me out of my home. That small boat, a lantern, and what food I did have were all I could afford on such short notice.”

“Why were they chasing you?” Zuko’s voice told her he hadn’t moved any further away since she refused to look at him. He was so close she could feel the heat radiating off his body, a familiar firebender trait as she learned from her father. In his hands, that heat meant warm hugs and friendly sparring, but coming from Zuko, it felt threatening and imposing. Kanasu wanted to push him back and demand space, but Hao Duan’s taunting voice reverberated out from her memory and kept her deathly still. 

“Some egotistical bully posing as a Fire Nation soldier didn’t like that I stood up to him. Left me with a nice reminder of what happens when you try to help people,” she raised her bandaged arm to grab a pitcher of water from the counter, voice low and spiteful. She poured the water into the pot and allowed it to boil.

“I knew it! You are an enemy of the Fire Nation!” Zuko growled. Kanasu whipped around and grabbed a handful of the prince’s shirt in a fit of rage.

“I am Fire Nation!” she hissed, storm clouds in her eyes growing darker with animosity, “I was born there, lived there my entire life, but none of it matters because I look Water Tribe!”  Zuko’s golden gaze searched her own for any hint of deceit, but her anger was foolproof. When she realised she was letting her emotions get the better of her, she released her grip on his shirt and stared intently at the peeling edges of her bandages. Her next words came so softly that she wasn’t sure if she had spoken or thought them, “I’ve always been loyal to my home. I helped people and still…You don’t know what it’s like to spend every waking moment fearing that someone’s going to take everything away from you.”

“I’ve already had everything taken from me.” Zuko’s snarling retort should have irritated her, but all she felt was exhaustion. A breathy laugh escaped her, and she continued to prepare her meal.

“Then you should understand why I left. I had to go before innocent people got hurt,” she spoke with a grave finality that said she was done with this conversation. Zuko pushed the topic in a new direction, one that Kanasu knew would come up sooner or later. She had just hoped it would be later.

“You’re Water Tribe, then?”  He eyed her carefully as she reached for a knife to cut potatoes with. Kanasu bit the inside of her cheek, knowing she couldn’t deny the claim (her slate blue eyes were evidence enough), but still hoping to keep him from finding out she could bend.

“Half. My mother was from the North.”

“And your father?”

“A farmer,” she answered with a practised smile. She took her bitter anger out on the starch, chopping potatoes at a speed rivalling professional chefs. Her father had been proficient in knife handling both in the kitchen and at work. She happily picked up a few habits and, when combined with her knowledge of herbs, spices, and flavour combinations, made her a wonderful chef. Xuān called it her backup plan in case the apothecary shop ever went under.  “Getting personal with these questions, aren’t you? Are you going to ask for my birth chart next?” she joked in hopes of lightening the mood some. Clearly, she failed as the room fell silent except for the tapping of the blade against the wood. She could feel the heated glare boring into her back and knew she had successfully annoyed her captor again. All in a day's work.

“What do you know about the Avatar?” Zuko asked with a voice that was lower than before, now holding a bite to it that said he was getting down to business. Kanasu stopped chopping and sat the knife down gently before turning to search the prince’s face for any indication that he was messing with her. When she found none, she raised her brows in astonishment. What Iroh said was true. Zuko was hunting the Avatar.

“Other than the fact that they're either dead or one foot in the grave, not much. It’s been a century since they’ve been heard of, let alone seen. Why?” she asked with a curious tilt of her head. Zuko opened his mouth to respond, but then snapped it shut, frowning again.

“Just finish cooking,” he sighed, turning towards the small table and chair off to the side of the room. He sat down with his arms crossed over his chest and his attention held completely by the half-blooded water tribe girl as she scooped potatoes, peas, and carrots into the pot of boiling water. 

As she added rosemary, crushed garlic cloves, and bay leaves, the earthy mint scent of the herbs combined had the guards’ stomachs rumbling. After a few minutes of stirring in silence, she began humming to herself softly. If she closed her eyes, she could pretend she was back home, but the ever-present glare of the prince behind her kept her grounded. He had gone quiet, but she knew he was still there. Watching. Analyzing. She wanted to turn and chuck the knife at him so she could make a run for it, but that felt counterproductive. Killing the prince of the Fire Nation, banished or not, would have a good number of soldiers chasing after her until the day she died. Then there was General Iroh. She shivered at the thought of being on the opposing side of his flames.

“Tadaa,” she sang as she placed a bowl of the finished stew in front of Zuko, sprinkling a bit of basil on top for extra flourish and flavour. He stared at her unamusedly when she offered the guards two bowls as well. Her smile dropped, and she rolled her eyes, “You watched me the entire time. It’s not poisoned.”

“I’m not eating anything made by a prisoner. I’m not stupid,” he huffed. Sighing, Kanasu waved a hand in the direction of the guards, who took their servings after sharing a look and carefully brought them to their lips.

Immediately, the man on the right tilted his bowl, downing his servings like he had been starved, while the guard on the left ate with more decorum but the same fervour. Kanasu grinned, hands triumphantly placed on her hips.

“See?” she beamed, pride shimmering in her grey-blue eyes. Zuko defiantly turned away from her. Kanasu knew that under all that anger, there was a boy who was struggling to adjust to his new life. He had a head start on her, but she still knew the feeling. She also knew he had to be hungry with the way this ship’s kitchen had been run. When the guards finished their bowls, they held them out to her with heads bowed. She took them with a chuckle, “Let everyone else eat first, then you can have seconds. I made plenty.” Then, she spared one last look at the bratty royal seated behind her. “Do you want to eat or just sit there pouting all day?”

“Peasant,” Zuko growled. The sound of wood scraping against wood hurt Kanasu’s ears as he stood up and stormed out of the kitchen, face red with anger. 

“I’ll save him a bowl,” she mumbled to herself while staring at the door. When she noticed the greedy hand of one of the guards reaching for the serving ladle in the pot, she swatted it away. “No! Bad!” The man shrank and sulked while his friend gave him a pat on the back.

Soon, most of the crew was lined up outside the kitchen waiting for a meal. Each one thanked her graciously, and she hated to admit that she was letting it get to her head. By the time Iroh came to check on her and steal away his own bowl, her stomach began to growl.

“Did the chef take no time to feed herself?” he asked with a bow, taking his portion with delight. When she shook her head, he passed the stew back to her. “Sit and share a meal with me. There are only a few men in line; they can serve themselves.”

Kanasu made another serving and sat at the small kitchen table with the General, manners and respect burned too deeply into her being for her to deny. It was quiet as the last of the soldiers filtered in and out, each one making sure to thank the teenager for the wonderful meal. She smiled at them, proud of the trust she had earned. 

“This is delicious, Miss Kana. Are you hoping to become a chef once you reach the Earth Kingdom?” Iroh asked in between quiet sips. 

Kanasu shrugged, “I haven’t thought about it. I want to lay low for a while.”

Becoming a chef didn’t seem like a bad idea. She knew her way around a kitchen fairly well, and she could make healthy meals with some medicinal effects as well. Maybe a tea shop? 

Before she could lose herself in that daydream, Iroh continued to speak, “I apologise if my nephew gave you a hard time.”

“It’s okay, General. I think I’m starting to get used to his attitude, anyway,” Kanasu reassured him with a smile that said she wasn’t bothered by the prince’s intrusive questions. Iroh’s unimpressed look instantly did away with that cheery facade as she slumped into her chair. “Fine,” she admitted, “I hate him. I hate his stupid questions. I hate this ship.”

“I understand it’s not easy adjusting, but Prince Zuko has been through enough. I don’t think he needs another enemy. He needs a friend, someone he can trust,” the older general suggested, lips twitching into a smile despite the sad twinkle in his earth-coloured eyes.

Kanasu mulled his words over for a long while. Nothing could convince her to befriend that fire-brained jerk, of that fact she was one-thousand per cent certain, but a faint recollection of her fingers intertwining with a young Zuko’s as she twirled him made her stop and think. It wasn’t a solid plan, but she could make it work. 

“I’m not even sure how I’d go about that,” she sighed, head bowed as she tried to hide the way she devoured her entire bowl of soup. Iroh was right. She hadn’t let herself eat yet, and she was beyond starving. 

“Take him a meal. Show him that you’re not a threat, and he’ll treat you less like a prisoner,” Iroh’s gaze flickered over to the giant stack of bowls that a couple of soldiers helped Kanasu set out. Dishwashing would be the bane of her existence.

“If I’m not a prisoner, what do I become? An inconvenient passenger? A free-range liability?” she snorted.

“You’ve already claimed our kitchen, and the crewmates have been raving about your skill all day. We all would love to have a trained chef for a while, even if you don’t have much to work with,” Iroh confessed with a sheepish grin. He wanted her to stay for the food, that much was certain. 

As the sun set and golden hues of light streaked across the darkening summer sky, Kanasu anxiously cleaned the kitchen and thought of what she would even say to the prince. What words told him that she wanted him to trust her and maybe even be friends, but only because that would give her access to more escape routes? 

“Monkeyfeathers,” she dropped her head onto the wooden counter with a dull thud. There were two ways her father taught her to handle a captive situation; if it was the Fire Nation, she needed to keep her mouth shut until she could assess her surroundings. Listen, bide time, and wait until the least amount of people are nearby to either fight or run away. If it were regular pirates or anyone else, he gave her his express permission to beat them into the ground, steal whatever she could to survive, and then run. Where would she run to if she were still in the middle of the ocean with no idea where the nearest port or island in general was?

Taking a deep breath and exhaling much more dramatically than she needed to, Kanasu gathered the rest of the potato stew into a bowl and set it on a tray. With the help of some surprisingly friendly guards, she managed to find Zuko’s room in only a few minutes. She stood awkwardly in front of the door for a long while, still unsure what to say that wouldn’t sound suspicious. 

Before she even had the chance to knock, the door swung open and missed hitting her face by mere inches. The small blast of air it created blew back the loose hairs around her face as her eyes widened into a dumbfounded stare. Zuko, who had stopped just in time to not bump into her, nearly jumped at the sight of her.

“What are you doing here?” he snapped in an all too menacing tone. Kanasu swallowed thickly, her words gone. She thrust the tray forward so it poked him in the ribs.

“I brought you food,” she said calmly and took a step back to bow her head. His words caught in his throat at her minor display of respect. As much as she hated his arrogance, her plan still required her to have some degree of free rein on the ship. She would not be put back in that cage, and the prince’s command was the simplest way to ensure her freedom. Be nice , she thought, just be nice.

“What are you planning?” Zuko scoffed and crossed his arms, still standing in the doorway.

“Nothing,” Kanasu gave an exasperated sigh, “I just talked with General Iroh. No matter what you do with me, fighting you won’t make this any easier.” Zuko squinted, still unsure of her intentions. She rolled her eyes and poked him with the tray again, “Everyone else has eaten. I know you’ve got to be hungry.”

“My health doesn’t concern you.” Zuko took an angry step closer. They were within arm's reach of each other now. Kanasu fought the urge to step away, but the downward twitch of her lips gave away her displeasure. She gave a glance down the hall to make sure no one was listening and then closed her eyes in defeat. If she could become the prince’s friend and confidant, it would make her escape significantly easier, pride be damned. Her vulnerability was something she only showed to her father, but this was for her survival . 

“As much as I hate to admit it, you saved me. I would have died on that boat,” she tried to ease into it, but cursed herself when her voice cracked. The thought of dying in a foreign land with no way of saying goodbye to her family made her chest tighten, and her cottonmouth worsened as she continued to speak, “I may not like the Fire Nation for what it’s done to me, but I still grew up there. I’ve been incredibly disrespectful to the future Fire Lord, and that’s not how my parents raised me. I apologise for my behaviour, Prince Zuko.”

The prince stammered, jaw hanging open slightly with eyes so wide they made him look like an owl. For a moment, he looked like nothing more than a flustered boy. The complete switch in mannerisms seemed to stun him, but with her head lowered, Kanasu missed the way his cheeks became as red as the fire he controlled. When his words came too slow, Kanasu, riding on the high of her burst of courage, did not hesitate and continued.

“One more thing,” she raised her head to show the determined glow of her eyes in the candle-lit hall, “I will be your new chef. I’ll cook for you and the crew, but I won’t go back to that cell. You don’t have to give me a room or anything, but I will require an allowance for groceries. Other than that, I promise I’ll be quiet and stay out of sight.”

When Zuko’s arms dropped to his side and his eyes searched hers for deceit, Kanasu half expected to be thrown overboard for speaking out of turn. She had told him – not asked – of her new status as crewmember. A part of her felt guilty for lying to him. He had saved her life and owed him, that part was true, but she wasn’t going to stay quiet or out of sight. No, her debt would be paid in the form of a silent escape without costing him any men and minimal supplies.

With her business taken care of, she thrust the tray into Zuko’s hands one last time and spun on her heels to walk away. Her face burned from either embarrassment or exhilaration; she couldn’t tell and wasn’t going to stop to figure it out. If she stopped and he tried to speak to her, she’d surely explode on the spot, so Kanasu marched right back into the kitchen and feverishly began the mountain of dishes that the soldiers had left behind. Waterbending would have halved the time it took to wash and dry them, but she desperately needed the distraction to keep from thinking of her wounded pride. Her hands moved of their own accord, scrubbing while her mind weighed the benefits of just jumping off the boat now and escaping while she was still able to use her legs. The number of times she had committed some sort of transgression against the Fire Nation and its royal family had become too many to count. Punishment or torture was certainly in her future.

Later in the evening, a soldier soon came by to drop off the things she had left in her cell. When night came around, she swore as she curled up in front of the stove, relishing in the lingering heat the metal emitted. Oddly enough, the coolness against her back and the warmth on her front reminded her of nights spent sandwiched between her parents as a toddler. Her night terrors had always been an issue, so when she couldn’t sleep because of visions of scary fish and a sky on fire, she’d curl up in her parents’ bed to feel the warmth of her father and the cooling touch of her mother. Her “wild imagination”, as her father called it, never bothered her mother. Instead, she listened. 

“And these big fish were dancing?” Kanasu recalled her asking one day as she wrote down every detail of her most recent dream. The child shook her head.

“Stomping, Mama! Big and angry! They broke things!” She thrashed her arms and stomped her feet, mirroring the fish she saw in her dream. Kiva frowned for a moment, then smiled.

“And why were they upset? Did they tell you?” she asked softly as she petted her daughter's head.

Kanasu pouted, “No, but one of the fish flew to the moon when I was trying to talk to them. Rude.” At the mention of the moon, Kiva’s mouth hung open ever so slightly. Her eyes had gained a glossy sadness, and her hands paused on top of the little girl’s head. “Mama?” Kanasu turned in her lap, only to panic when she noticed a single tear cascade down her rosy cheek.

After that day, Kanasu never told anyone about her dreams. She told her mother they had stopped, but they never did, and Kavi learned to quit asking. Each night was a gamble; would she sleep peacefully or toss and turn in hopes of ridding herself of the vivid nightmares? 

Kanasu found her subconscious standing at the edge of a forest where the running water of a mossy riverbank glittered beneath the evening sun. The rays of light that shone through the canopy cast away the dark shadows that crept out of the thicker forestry behind her. A flowy white dress covered her, all the grime gone from her body, and her hair pulled up into an intricately done bun. Golden rings hung from her ears, one sat around her left bicep, and a few jingled at her wrists as if she were royalty. The jewellery complemented the perfectly cut ruby that dangled over her neck like a drop of blood.

“What in Agni’s name…?” she murmured as she took in the sight of herself, beautiful and regal. The long skirt of the dress tickled her legs as it caught the wind. The lack of sleeves bore the light cut of her arm muscles to the world, including the scar Hao Duan gave her. She couldn’t escape it, even in her dreams.

“I thought you’d like something different from that boring old red your father always had you wear.”

Spinning around so fast she nearly tumbled, Kanasu stared in awe at the sight of her mother on the other side of the river. 

Never before had her dreams shown her something so lavish and intricately detailed. Usually, she saw vague, hazy scenes that made no sense to her or the occasional memory she yearned for (her mother, Xuān, her father), but she had never seen her mother like this. Kavi was almost always in muted blues or pale pinks, never the pure white she was draped in now, which made her look hauntingly beautiful. 

When Kanasu tried to take a step forward, her mother held a hand out to stop her.

“You can’t cross, yet. This place was never meant for you, dear,” the woman spoke with the same soft lilt that she recalled from her childhood.

“Mom, what are you…How…?” she let out a breathy laugh of disbelief, “One hell of a dream.”

Kavi’s expression turned sad at her words, “You’ll learn the nature of your dreams soon enough. I only came to warn you.”

“My dreams? Warn me? What’s going on?” Kanasu asked, reaching out to touch her mother. A burst of cold wind blew past her, and she withdrew her arm. When she opened her eyes again, her mother was gone and in her place was a white crane. Its snow-white feathers danced in the breeze, and its wings, tipped in black, flapped twice before settling down on its body. Those same black feathers swooped down its neck, and a patch of red sat atop its head like a little hat. 

“You cannot let the Avatar fall into the hands of Fire Lord Ozai,” her mother's voice came from the crane despite its beak never opening. 

“The Avatar? How do you expect me to do that?” Kanasu’s face scrunched in confusion. She knew dreams always had some deeper interpretation for your subconscious, like a craving or an internal conflict. This? She had no clue what this meant.

“The Avatar is alive, my sweet Kana. Peace and unity will return to the world. You will bear witness, though the journey will be tiresome. Have faith in your allies and the water, for both may carry you to the answers you seek.”

Without giving her time to respond, the crane flapped its wings and stirred up another gust of wind. When Kanasu shielded her eyes, she felt the hardwood of the ship’s floor return to her backside. Wordlessly, the raven-haired girl sat there for a moment. Stunned. Bewildered. Shocked. None of the words she could think of quite fit the level of confusion bubbling in her. Her mother appeared in her dream, did some prophesying, turned into a crane, and then vanished in the wind. It was something she had never seen before, yet it felt so real. 

“What is going on…?” Kanasu mumbled as she pulled her knees up to her chest and rocked in front of the stove that had lost all of its heat. No way was she sleeping after that.

Chapter Text

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Chapter Five

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Zuko tapped his fingers against his desk as he read the list of groceries Kanasu had given him. She had given the note to a guard first, keeping her promise of staying quiet and out of sight. He had not dared to venture near the kitchen after her apology outside his quarters, but when he wasn’t training and had a moment to himself, he thought of the strange girl lingering aboard his ship. He didn’t know what to do with her.

Kanasu was an anomaly to him, and not just because of her half-blooded nature. How could she be so demeaning and childish one minute, then formal and proper the next? It frustrated him to the point that he snatched up the note and stormed down to the kitchen, unable to focus. When he threw the door open, he hadn’t expected a plate of food to be waiting for him at the table. 

“Congee. Eat it before it gets cold,” Kanasu’s disembodied voice noted as Zuko whipped his head around to look for her. When she walked out of the pantry, the prince realised she had changed clothes and was now dressed in beige pants and a casual white top that she had to customise. She had cut off the sleeves and tucked them into the pants, but they still hung around her arms. Zuko noticed the defined cut of her muscles instantly, and they had been face-to-face long enough for him to find she stood only an inch shorter than him. 

 She met his scrutinising gaze and raised a brow, “Problem, Captain?”

Zuko squinted, “What are you wearing?”

“The latest line from the Earth Kingdom. It’s called ‘ I have no clothes and had to improvise’ . You should see the spring collection.”

“Don’t get cute with me,” the prince demanded with an unamused frown.

“Cute? Why, you flatter me, Captain,” Kanasu faked a dreamy swoon, catching in the aggravated twitch of her captor’s eyebrow. 

“I thought you were done with your annoying antics?” 

“I said I’d behave and stay out of your way. You came to my kitchen. Expect witty remarks and antics a-plenty.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Quite a doll yourself, Captain,” she smiled and tilted her head charmingly, “Now hurry up and eat.” Zuko went to reject the meal, but the sweet scent of the rice porridge hit his nose, and his stomach let out a traitorous growl. With a grumbled swear, he slowly began to eat. As the minutes passed and his food disappeared, he found the room had settled into awkward silence. Kanasu wandered around the kitchen, tidying up and noting a few more things she needed, which she quickly scribbled down on the grocery list.

Zuko eyed the cloak piled up in the corner next to a small bag of flour, brows furrowing as he imagined her curled up on the floor and using the hard sack as a pillow. It would start to get colder the further south they got, and the kitchen could get especially chilly at night. He once heard that all waterbenders were acclimated to the cold. Was that true if she was only Water Tribe by blood? 

“Do you mind turning around?” Her voice drew Zuko from his thoughts. He realised he had been unconsciously staring at her while he got lost in thought and reapplied his usual scowl. She raised her arm, “I have to change these bandages. It’s not pretty, and I don’t want to ruin your appetite.”

There was a subtle shyness hidden beneath her condescending tone that intrigued Zuko’s wandering mind. He had seen a hint of what he expected to be the true Kanasu after questioning her about her escape from the Fire Nation. It shocked him, really. He had expected her to cry or go quiet, but she had gotten loud and stood up for herself. That kind of fire and passion was something he had only ever seen in the Fire Nation.

“So you can throw a knife into my back? I don’t think so,” Zuko scoffed, “Change them.” Relenting, Kanasu gave a heavy sigh and began to unwrap the nasty old bandages. 

Seeing the marred skin of her arm poking out of the poorly wrapped cloth, Zuko remembered that she mentioned a soldier was the one to attack her. It hurt to know that the people who were meant to protect and dutifully serve the citizens of his homeland were tearing apart families for petty reasons like appearance. His father would have said something like “Such are the ways of war” or “It can’t be helped”. He had punished Zuko once before for having a heart and caring about the underlings he wanted to use as fodder. Agni knows what he’d think of his son not treating a prisoner like a prisoner. Kanasu was caught in the crossfire of war, and Zuko was one of the many people who just so happened to be holding a weapon.

On the other hand, his mother would have said that she needed help. Ursa had raised him to be respectful and kind, something Kana’s father and she shared if she had been telling him the truth the other night. It was the light glimmer in her slate-blue eyes as she talked about her father and her morals that kept him from throwing her off his ship that instant. 

When she started to unravel the new set of bandages she found, Kana’s hand movements were unlike those of when she chopped potatoes or added copious amounts of seasoning to her food. She had been sure and fast, but now she was slow and awkwardly careful, like a novice. Being a firebender, Zuko had dealt with his fair share of burns, some of which required wrapping. It was then that Zuko realised she had been a novice. He hadn’t paid attention to it before, but the way she pulled and tugged at the fabric, only for it to loosen a little when she moved on to the next section of her arm, was a common mistake he had learned to correct through experience.

When she swore and attempted to rewrap her wrist for the fourth time, Zuko clicked his tongue and stood up. The scraping of his chair made her jump, and the widening of her eyes, when he stormed closer, made it appear as if she had forgotten he was even there. 

“You’re doing it wrong,” he chastised, snatching the bandages from her and unravelling them bit by bit. His hands were sure and skilled, carefully holding one end at the base of her hand and working the entire roll up her forearm. 

Zuko kept his gaze focused on her arm, using their closeness as an excuse to analyse just how seriously she had been injured. Much of the burned skin up her bicep and shoulder had already blistered and regrown fairly well. It was the angry red handprint closed around her forearm that was still in denial of its healing. The hand looked rather large, even bigger than his own, which made him wonder what kind of man – a soldier no less – just grabs a girl and burns her.

“It doesn’t hurt as much anymore,” she noted, though why she was telling him, he didn’t know.

“We don’t have anyone who can help on board. You can look for someone when we hit the dock,” he said curtly. 

“I trust plants over people any day,” Kana’s lip twitched upwards into a smile, but fell when Zuko wrapped a particularly nasty section of skin. She hissed and ducked her head, shaking slightly. He stopped reflexively, finally turning his head to look at her. When she returned his gaze, he could see the beginnings of tears swimming in her eyes, reflecting the regret and grief that he knew all too well. He hadn’t thought of how close they were until he could make out the individual specks of dark blue amidst the silver pools of her irises and —

Kanasu pulled away first, staring down at her half-covered arm and clearing her throat, “We should hurry. Your departure team is probably waiting.”

“Right,” the flushed prince shook his mind free of whatever spell she cast on him and got back to work. “We leave in five minutes,” he ordered when he quickly finished wrapping her arm and grabbed his food on the way out. He would finish it in his room because, as much as he hated to admit it, she was one damn good cook. 

Later, Zuko impatiently stood on the deck of his ship with two crewmates, clad in their usual armour, and his uncle, awaiting the arrival of their chef. Iroh smiled when she finally approached, “We’re all ready to go, it seems.” She smiled at him but avoided meeting the prince’s eyes. He frowned at that.

“You’re late,” Zuko griped as the ship pulled up to a small port town on the outskirts of the Earth Kingdom. 

Kanasu rolled her eyes, “By two minutes.”

“I will throw you into the ocean.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“Behave, you two,” Iroh chuckled. Zuko crossed his arms over his chest, and Kanasu turned her face so her dark hair acted as a shield, a quip dying on the tip of her tongue. Zuko’s eyes flicked down to where she had begun to pick at her bandages. 

“Yes, sir,” she mumbled a second later as a strange silence befell the group.

When the boat was safely docked and the boarding ramp lowered, the prince was the first to exit the ship, followed by the two guards, his uncle, and then Kanasu, respectively. Iroh included her in idle chatter now and then, but she stayed quiet throughout most of their short walk along the harbour. 

“Ask around about any avatar sightings. We can purchase whatever the crew needs as we go,” Zuko nodded, prompting Iroh and the other guards to separate into their groups. He had learned from experience that a group of Fire Nation men leaving an old warship prompted some not-so-positive reactions from locals. The disgusted faces had already appeared by the time they entered the more populated section of the market. 

“Do you usually get this many mean looks?” Kanasu asked quietly while walking at his side. Every time someone passed by, she ducked out of their way, occasionally bumping into Zuko and awkwardly stepping aside, only to nearly hit someone else. Her stressed dance amused him. For someone who had tried to act unfazed all the time, he had seen far too many moments when her cold mask would slip and reveal the nervous mess that lay beneath. 

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“These people know they should be afraid of me.”

Kanasu had been fighting back her sassy remarks all day. The part of the submissive prisoner was not one she enjoyed playing, especially when she was stuck in such a crowded space. Since she spent all her days trying to stay inconspicuous in the Fire Nation, big crowds were something she learned to loathe, and the constant brushing of her body against passersby made her skin crawl. She did not want to be touched. It was even worse because she couldn’t get any space from Zuko and ended up bumping into him, too! 

The prince had played right into her hands when he demanded she join them in their shopping. He didn’t trust her to be left alone, and she hadn’t expected the pampered royal to know what half the things on her list were. So, she figured she’d simply go shopping herself. 

Now, she was starting to get overwhelmed, and her patience was snapping.

“Do you really want power if it‘s fueled by people’s fear?” she asked with more of a judgmental note than she intended. Zuko turned to glare daggers at her.

“And I suppose you know anything about ruling a nation? About being a leader?” he spat. Kanasu’s head tilted down a few degrees, casting long shadows across her face.

“I know what it’s like to be the one living beneath them in fear, subject to their greed. You’ll never get the answers you want if you terrorise people for them.” Kanasu ended the conversation by turning and walking a few steps ahead of her captor. She stopped to peruse the wares of a nearby merchant and hoped he wouldn’t try to argue with her any more.

As she assessed the hand-crafted accessories and clothing, she ignored the anxious pit in her stomach. She picked up a pale yellow hair ribbon and ran her fingers over the simple cloth. Thinking of Xuān in that instant made the unease in her stomach feel more like an urge to throw up, but she couldn’t help herself. It would be so easy , she thought with an ache in her chest, it would be so easy to just run. 

The heavy line of trees surrounding the market and fewer soldiers on the island would make it that much easier to escape, but Zuko was sticking closer to her, watching her every move.

As if reminding her that he was watching, he grabbed her uninjured arm and leaned forward until she could feel his heat. 

“Remember your place. You’re just a stupid little farm girl that I saved. You’d be dead without me,” he growled into her ear. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, fight or flight instincts telling her to run before she burned her at their point of contact. Not again. She would not be hurt again. Her grip tightened on an especially sharp wooden hairpin. 

“Is this Fire Nation swine bothering you, miss?” The shop owner glared at Zuko with dark eyes. The man, larger than both of them and older by many years. Without hesitation, Kanasu gently placed her hand over Zuko’s, giving it a tight squeeze. She could see his frown deepen from her peripheral vision.

“What can you do? I’m afraid it’s just boys being boys, sir,” she sighed until the man quit staring at Zuko and looked to her, then she smiled, “I would like to purchase a few things, if that’s alright.” His attitude improved immediately. Kanasu picked out a couple of outfits and the yellow ribbon that reminded her of Xuān before looking at Zuko expectantly. 

“I’m not paying for this,” he said.

“I have no money, and you agreed that I could shop.”

“For groceries.”

“Do you want to go back to the cold slop you had before?”

“You need this to cook?” Zuko held up the yellow ribbon. 

“A man pays for his woman,” the shopkeeper argued, judgment heavy in his dark eyes. Before the prince could respond, Kanasu pouted.

“See? He’s so mean to me! Cooking and cleaning all day like a prisoner! Don’t I deserve something nice?” she faked being on the verge of tears. A few people passing by turned to watch the fuss, much to Zuko’s dismay.

“You are a prisoner,” he bit out as quietly as he could. Kanasu went silent for a second before bursting into tears. She slumped over the display table, pocketing the sharp hairpiece that lay hidden beneath her. 

“How can you be so cruel?!” she cried louder. Zuko swore to himself, looking around as they started to gain the attention of onlookers. He angrily snapped his gaze towards the shopkeeper, who was piling more clothes into Kanasu’s bag.

“You poor girl. Please, take these. Our finest pieces, on the house,” he handed the weeping girl the items, then pointed an accusatory finger at the Fire Nation prince, “and you should be ashamed.”

“Thank you so much,” Kanasu pretended to wipe her tears. She bowed deeply to the man, then spun around and shoved the bag into Zuko’s hands. “Carry this. We still have groceries to get,” she said, every ounce of dramatic energy gone the moment they left the stand.

“What was that?” the prince snapped. 

“Deception, Captain. I got my clothes and saved you money. You can thank me later,” Kanasu waved a hand dismissively. Completely stunned, Zuko didn’t say another word as they wandered around checking item after item off the grocery list. It was a large haul that required the soldiers’ help lugging aboard the ship, and Kanasu led the march back like she had just looted the place clean. 

“Well, no information on the Avatar, but a successful trip nonetheless! Good work, everyone!” she patted one of the soldiers on the back and flashed a wide grin. Most of the crew was still gathered on the deck as they prepared to set sail again, and Kanasu thanked each one for helping her bring the large bags, crates, and sacks down to the kitchen. Right as she turned to head back to her little safe space, a hand grabbed her shoulder and twirled her around.

“You insolent brat!” Zuko roared, eyes burning with something deeper than rage. “You humiliated me!”

“Some humbling would do you some good,” Kanasu barked out a laugh.

“Okay, easy both of you,” Iroh held his hands up and stood between the two, “Zuko, I’m sure Miss Kanasu meant only to help, not disgrace you.”

Ignoring his uncle, Zuko stepped forward, “You’re an annoying pest that I’m handing over to the Fire Nation the next chance I get.”

“Oh, when’s that going to be? When you hand over the Avatar, too?”

A fireball shot right past Kanasu’s face, singeing a few hairs in its path. If she hadn’t cut her sleeves off this morning, her clothes would probably be on fire, too. The ship fell silent, and the few crewmates lingering above deck warily looked between the two.

“Prince Zuko!” Iroh shouted at his nephew, who hadn’t paid him any mind.

“I should have left you to drown.” The young prince’s smoking fists sat at his sides, clenched and ready to punch anything that moved. Kanasu stood there and said nothing, eyes glued to the dark, burnt panel of wood on the floor where the fire hit. She slowly raised her hand and twisted the charred edges of her hair between her thumb and index finger. When it fell from her grasp, she didn’t bother facing Zuko or hurling swears at him like she had before. No argument was had or battle fought, Kanasu just let out a dry laugh.

“If you ever throw another fireball at me, it better be hot enough to kill me,” she said with a surprisingly impassive tone. Shuffling off towards the kitchen, her feet dragged a bit more than usual, making her steps eerily loud compared to her usual silent footfall. 

Once safely inside the confines of her only private area, she withdrew the hairpin from her pocket and chucked it at the nearest wall. Feeling as if that wasn’t enough to quell her rage, Kanasu grabbed every knife in the kitchen and hurled it at the same wall. Each blade landed deep in the wood with a satisfying thunk , leaving her body shaking from anger and her laboured breathing. The silence only broke when she fell to her knees and rested her forehead on the floor. Tears streamed down her face without remorse.

“Why here? Why him?” she sobbed, arms wrapped around herself in a sad mimicry of her father’s embrace. She could imagine the advice he or Xuān would give her, or even the angelic voice of her mother via a dream. This was it. She had had enough. Kanasu wasn’t going to play the obedient servant anymore. She would leave tonight , consequences be damned.

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It was surprising to find her boat was still being held prisoner with her. Kanasu didn’t leave the kitchen until she was sure everyone except for a few guards patrolling the deck was asleep. Her cloak made it hard to see her in the dark, and she made extra food after serving dinner, fitting as many leftovers as she could into her bag. Food-wise, she would make it long enough to find an island. 

When she snuck up to the deck, she found her boat tied up and hanging off the side of the cruiser. The ropes holding it up were thick. She’d have to work quickly to undo the knots with the guards standing so close. Taking out her father’s knife, she crouched down and began to saw away. 

“Have you considered simply untying them?” 

Kanasu sighed and kept still. Her knife was still wedged between the folds of the rope, but she had stopped trying to cut.

“I can’t stay here, General. I have to leave,” she spoke softly.

Iroh nodded slowly, looking up to the stars, “I’m sorry about Zuko — ”

“It’s not just him,” she stood quickly, “I can’t live in fear. Not again.” The tears welled up quicker than she expected. “I didn’t mean to get caught. I didn’t mean to set the shop on fire. I didn’t – I’m not…I’m not a bad person.”

In what was probably the first time in weeks, Kanasu felt arms other than her own wrap around her. Iroh’s touch was warm. Not angry and hot like Zuko’s, but consoling and kind, like her father’s.

“General Kai-Ming would not approve of his daughter wandering into dark waters,” he said with a gentle smile. Kanasu’s eyes grew so wide that the tears spilt over. One ran down her sun-kissed cheek, and she didn’t bother wiping it away, completely stunned by the man’s confession. 

“How did you know?” she mumbled, pulling back from him sharply.

“Your father was always a great commander, yet he never hurt a soul. That’s what drew me to him. I had to learn more about the general who was undefeated in combat, yet never fought on the front lines.” Iroh shuffled towards the railing of the ship. He looked down at the water as if Kai-Ming was waiting somewhere down there. “When I was next in line for Fire Lord, I arranged a meeting. I told him of my plans for Ba Sing Se. He helped me strategise for the least amount of casualties while still trying to break through the walls. When I asked if he would join me in battle, he simply said he couldn’t. When I pressed further, he invited me into his home.”

“Before Ba sing Se,” Kanasu paused to calculate, “So that means you…”

“Yes, I met your mother three days before she passed. Kavi had the spirit of a warrior until the very end.” Iroh faced her, “You were asleep at her side when they asked for my help.” 

“Help with what?” 

“Help protect you. It was clear by then that Kavi wouldn’t make it. I promised that when I became Fire Lord, I would relieve Kai-Ming of his duties and find him a suitable job where he could be a true father. Not long after, I would lose that title myself.”

Kanasu remembered the passing of Iroh’s son. It felt like forever ago, yet it had only been a few years, and she could only imagine what time did to a father. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“It still eats your father up. He became much harder on the recruits afterwards, and I assume on you, too,” Iroh’s eyes sparkled with the beginnings of tears and pity. 

Kanasu was a waterfall by now. She choked back a heavy sob, completely abandoning her indifference. She was an emotional person by nature; no amount of refusal or acting would change that. With trembling fingers, she reached into the pocket she had sewn into her cloak and pulled out the Pai Sho tile. The moment Iroh saw it, he immediately cupped his hands around hers.

“You’ll know when the time is right,” he nodded. 

“Does my father know I’m okay?” she could only manage a broken whisper. Iroh shook his head, and her chest tightened.

“It’s not safe to discuss this matter over letters. You will tell him in person someday,” the general explained with a hint of pity in his voice that felt like a blade running through Kanasu’s heart. Despite all her longing, talking with Iroh soothed the unease in her stomach. She wasn’t completely alone. 

“You came to stop me,” she rested her hand on the ropes holding the boat up, still clinging to that last shred of hope that she could just sail home.

“It would be wrong of me not to try. You are a very poor sailor, dear,” the older man admitted. Kanasu felt her lips curve into an exhausted smile as her head hung in defeat.

“Next time we stop, I’m out of here,” she conceded with a yawn. Iroh placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“And I won’t stop you. Just make sure we’re on solid ground, first,” he laughed as they settled down beside each other. Sitting on the deck, the two watched the stars twinkle above, longing for the family they’d lost. 

Chapter Text

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Chapter Six

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Zuko had risen before the sun, the crisp morning air filling his lungs with a welcoming coolness. His daily training sessions were the only thing that gave him a way to blow off steam. His flames roared against the midnight sky and illuminated the ship's deck. Many of the crew were asleep, except for a few making their final rounds before shift change, and the silence of the night was heavenly. 

Zuko let one of his punches sail through the air, a fireball following after it. As he released his flames, an image of a certain dark-haired nuisance flashed into his mind, and the attack curved. He frowned, staring at his fist with disdain. It had been a week since their stop at the market, and Zuko had yet to see the girl, even when mealtime came. Some crew members had voiced their belief that she locked herself in the pantry since she didn’t have a room. Iroh had asked him to consider letting her have one of the extra rooms they used for storage. They had been given the minimum number of soldiers to embark with after all, so they had a couple of quarters that went unused.

His hands shook at the thought of his father. His exile was what drove him. Zuko would find the Avatar and become heir to the throne again. 

“Oh, when’s that going to be? When you hand over the Avatar, too?”

Wave after wave of fire flew through the air as Zuko practised his firebending forms. That girl irked him beyond rhyme and reason, yet she was slowly becoming part of the crew. If she saw an opportunity to annoy him, she took it, and a week ago, he had snapped. Admittedly, he didn’t want the fireball to hit her, but he hadn’t expected her to freeze like she did. 

“If you ever throw another fireball at me, it better be hot enough to kill me.”

The way her voice dropped and she stood deathly still was spine-chilling. Even Zuko got goosebumps. There was no way that someone like that – someone with her knowledge – was just some simple Fire Nation farm girl. There was more to her than he knew, and when it was quiet, he found himself wondering what else she could be keeping from him. Zuko was intrigued in a way. He knew she wouldn’t answer, not if his knowing put her in danger, so he assumed most of what she told him was a lie.

His mind wandered back to the morning when they stood inches apart and he wrapped her burns. The story she told him back then wasn’t a lie. She had been attacked, and somehow that pissed him off even more. 

She isn’t worth all of this stress, Zuko told himself as he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The dark locks were free from their usual bun to offer some relief to his scalp. As the salty sea breeze passed by, he caught a whiff of something else. Something sweet but with a slightly spicy kick. 

“The sun’s not even up yet.”

Of course, it was her. She was always there . 

“What do you want?” Zuko huffed, lowering his arms and looking over his shoulder.

“Just wanted to watch the sunrise,” she shrugged, hands in the pockets of one of the new outfits she received. Black baggy pants tucked into a sturdy pair of boots, while the red top ended just above her belly button. She covered her arms and the thin straps of her shirt with a light jacket made of a darker red, more breathable material. The fabric flowed around her form when the breeze hit, matching her carefree attitude rather well.

“Then sit down and be quiet,” Zuko demanded before turning around and setting his stance again. Kanasu drew her stormy eyes over his body, frowning at his feet.

“Your feet are too far apart. The front one’s twisted slightly, so you’ll end up curving your attack.”

“I told you to — “

“Yeah, yeah, shut up and sit down,” she rolled her eyes before smiling, “When do I ever listen to you, Captain?” Zuko said nothing as she nudged his foot with hers. He adjusted begrudgingly. 

“Trying to move and then bend. You have to be one with the element and trust it to form around your movements,” she spoke as she reached out from behind him to lower his arm ever so slightly. Then, she took a step back, squinted, and nodded in approval.

When the prince followed through with his attack, the usually wild and undirected flames now followed his strict command of them. His irritation built at how right she had been. His fireball didn’t curve like it had when he threw it at her the other day, but followed a straight path before extinguishing midair. Iroh had been trying to help him correct his poise for months, but he would get frustrated at the lack of results and lash out each time. Yet, this half-blooded “farm” girl noticed it instantly.

And it frustrated him to no end.

“How do you know that?” 

“Picked it up from my dad. He’d have you on your butt in seconds,” Kanasu laughed at the thought.

“Your dad, the farmer? ” the prince scoffed, hoping she’d admit that she had lied before. She let her eyes fall for a second, then turned around to face the ocean. “I can see right through you, peasant. Lying to me won’t do you any good.”

“You want the truth?” Kanasu took a deep breath and clenched her fists, “I want to beat the crap out of you for throwing that fireball at me.” Zuko’s unamused look was so patronising that Kanasu pushed him, albeit harder than she should have; “I’m serious!” 

“Sure you are,” he deadpanned with his arms crossed over his chest. 

The half-blood girl ground her teeth and cursed him, “I was going to say that I’ve had a change of heart, you uptight jerk! Now, I just want to fight you even more.”

“You’re an idiot,” he spat before giving in, “Don’t start crying if you get hurt.”

“I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised,” she grinned in a way that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He hadn’t seen a look like this on her before, but it gave him the same unnerved feeling as when she went eerily quiet after he attacked her.

The sun had begun to peak out from the horizon, amber and gold leaking into the dark blue of the morning sky. What few soldiers were stationed outside were waiting for their fellow crewmates to come and relieve them of their duties. When the next shift arrived, everyone stopped to watch the two teens' standoff. Zuko lowered in a traditional firebending stance while Kanasu just smiled nonchalantly. 

Iroh, still half asleep, rubbed his eyes and yawned as he emerged from below deck. 

“What’s all the commotion?” he asked drearily, having been awoken by the chatter of the crew. One of the soldiers simply pointed. Upon following his finger, he turned pale. 

“Uh oh.”

“Showtime, huh, Captain?” Kanasu laughed, also noticing the attention they gathered. Zuko narrowed his eyes and said nothing. “Well,” she continued with a shrug, “Ladies first.” 

She shot forward in a zig-zag motion, dodging the fireballs sent her way with surprising speed. It was different from her calculated swiftness in the kitchen. This kind of movement was wild, each step sharp and deceiving. When she reached Zuko, she pivoted and swung her leg up to kick him in the face, but he grabbed her by the ankle. He caught her off guard long enough for him to land a blow to her side that forced her to stumble back.

Once she caught her breath, she rushed Zuko again. He saw her arms extend and prepared for a punch, but frowned when she grabbed his shoulder and flipped over him. The added force messed with his weight distribution and completely disrupted his stance, causing him to fall onto his back. Despite the wind being knocked out of him, he turned to his side and used his foot to sweep her legs out from under her. She let out a loud yelp and tumbled to the ground. The prince pinned her arms above her head before she could get back up.

“Well,” Kana’s heavy breathing tickled his face with how close they were, “Isn’t this fun?”

“So much for beating the crap out of me,” Zuko scoffed. 

“Don’t count your turtle ducks before they’ve hatched.”

With one sharp tug, Kanasu pulled her arms down, freed herself from Zuko’s grip, and brought her legs up just enough to kick him off of her. The two just stared at one another from afar as they waited for an attack. 

Zuko was the one to engage this time around, opting for a long-ranged sweeping fire attack. Kanasu dropped to the floor, the heat rushing past her face in one big woosh. He noticed the slight tremble of her shoulders when the fire came close to her, but she continued the fight nonetheless. When he went to punch her, she blocked with her injured forearm and let out a sharp hiss. Zuko’s brows furrowed for a moment as he took a step back, only to recompose himself and launch two consecutive waves of fire at her. 

Still reeling from the pain in her arm, Kanasu didn’t have time to dodge properly and swore loudly as the first wave caught her leg. Zuko considered bending the second attack away from her at the last second, but when she let out a frustrated growl and raised her arms, he kept still.

Under her command, a spiralling column of water rose from the ocean to circle her. Zuko’s fire fizzled out, and she dropped to one knee, panting from behind her aquatic shield as she raised her pant leg to assess the damage. Sweat trickled down her forehead, and something akin to panic glistened in her eyes.

Of course, she was a waterbender. Zuko didn’t know why he was surprised. She had explicitly told him her mother was Water Tribe. He had still been in denial of what she was. If she were a firebender, she wouldn’t have been burned so badly. Then again, maybe Zuko wasn’t one to talk. If she were a firebender, his remorse wouldn’t feel so traitorous.

“I knew it,” the prince spat as he glowered at Kanasu from beyond the water. His eyes briefly flashed down to the red welt on her ankle. It wasn’t nearly as bad as the one on her arm, but it still looked painful. 

“Now what? Back to the cell?” She let out a dry, humourless laugh that only enraged Zuko further.

“What else are you hiding?!” he roared as he dashed towards her with his fist raised and aflame. Seeing red, he dodged the water darts she sent his way. When she tried to use a water whip attack, the swirling ring of water changed forms at just the right time, allowing Zuko to get too close. He advanced until her back hit the railing of the ship and grabbed her wrists. Zuko’s heated glare should have made her shrink away, but she stood tall, seemingly unfazed by his threatening presence.

“I told you that fear doesn’t equal power,” Kanasu winced as his hands began to warm up. “And I never hid it. You just never asked.” Her back bowed from the pressure of the rail against her body. To onlookers, it seemed like Zuko was about to push her over the edge of the ship and, in his rage, he was considering it. He was sick of being deceived and lied to. His father, his mother, this random girl who dared to argue with him…

“I won’t be bossed around by some half-blooded abomination,” he said, voice a low bite. Kanasu opened her mouth to speak, but he wouldn’t let her, “You are nothing but an irritating little brat that nobody will ever want. Your own father couldn’t handle you.” 

Kanasu went uncharacteristically quiet, eyes searching Zuko’s for Agni-knows what. He furrowed his brows as she stopped struggling against him. The defeated hanging of her head brought forth some kind of emotion within him. He shouldn’t feel guilty, no, she was a pain in the butt. She was usually so full of fire; had he finally broken her? When had he become so cruel?

“Prince Zuko!” Iroh bellowed, running up somewhere behind them based on the sound of his sandals rushing closer.

“My family loves me,” Kanasu mumbled with a voice so soft that he wasn’t sure that she had spoken. When she lifted her head, Zuko noticed the dark bags that had formed under her eyes. 

As he looked down at her in this far too vulnerable state, he realised something had changed. This wasn’t the feisty traitor that taunted him until he wanted to throw her overboard; this was just a scared girl who was far too tired to run. It wasn’t until now that he had truly thought about how long he had been out at sea. He was coping with his abandonment for years (and still was) while she had only been gone for a couple of months at best. He was already hardened from it, yet she had just begun to break.

“I shouldn’t have…I’m not…” he was at a loss for words.

“This isn’t fun anymore,” she closed her eyes and sighed. Her exhaustion was the last thing he saw before she gave him one last shove back and slipped over the edge of the ship.

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General Kai-Ming felt a chill down his spine, towers of papers abandoned on the floor and his desk. His dark tangle of hair fell down his shoulders haphazardly, and he hadn’t bothered shaving his scratchy stubble. The General was unkempt and beyond tragic. The stone-cold intensity within his eyes was replaced with a ghastly blank stare that even the soldiers he trained began to notice. His hands folded on his desk as a timely knock came from his door. 

“Here are those updated ledgers, General. This is a solid roster, plenty of well-spirited troupes,” Hao Duan grinned as he entered the room and placed more papers in front of the general.

“Thank you,” he didn’t let his eyes leave the young soldier as a long silence fell between them, “Say, how is that search going for the girl?” 

“Oh, that brat?” Hao let out a rough, ugly laugh, “Posters have been put up and every soldier in town has his eyes peeled, but no sight of her. I think she hopped on a boat and drowned or something. That’s what you get for ambushing a Fire Nation soldier in our own territory.”

“And she was Water Tribe?”

“Must have been. She looked like she was, and she practically drowned me with nothing but her tea. Nearly killed me, but I got to that savage first!” 

Kai-Ming’s fingers twitched as he clenched his hands, knuckles turning white. He had seen the posters, the ones that painted his daughter as a war criminal. The story was twisted in so many different ways that people knew before they ever went up. A Water Tribe girl infiltrates the Fire Nation and pretends to be a healer. Some think she had been slowly trying to poison them from the inside, but those that she helped knew she was just a victim of circumstance. 

As someone who fully knew the truth and didn’t believe in unnecessary violence, Kai-Ming wanted to torch this man alive. The term “savage” was often used to demean people of the Water Tribe, with many in the Fire Nation under the belief that they were primitive and simple-minded because of how they lived, but he had realised quickly that was not the case. His Kavi was smarter than anyone he had ever met, and Kanasu was just as intelligent, though also blessed with his strength. 

“No one’s seen her since that night, but we have eyes everywhere. If she tries to come back…” Hao left his vague threat off there, eyes shining with pride. 

“I see,” Kai-Ming took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, “You may go now.” Hao gave his general a concerned look but bowed and exited his office nonetheless. The room was eerily silent for a moment before he looked to the sky with glossy eyes, “Look at this mess, Kavi. Our baby’s being hunted, and I can’t do a damn thing. Watch over her, please. I can’t lose you both.” He felt a brush of featherlight warmth against his cheek and allowed the tears to free-fall.

I’ve got her, Kai. 

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Kanasu wasn’t sure why she jumped. She knew she’d survive; this ship wasn’t that big, and she could just waterbend herself back up, but as she sailed down to the endless waters below, she smiled. It wasn’t a graceful fall, nor was it painless, as the shock of the cold waters rattled her bones. Her body began to sink, and her vision blurred into nothingness. 

It wasn’t until she finally passed out that the mounting pressure in her head was relieved, and it felt as if the world around her had just disappeared. It wasn’t until harsh winds blew her back into consciousness that she woke with a gasp. Her lungs, which were once full of water, were now clear, and her hands desperately grasped at the blades of grass beneath her. Mud clumped under her fingernails with how hard she clung to solid ground, and the intense wind mercilessly whipped her hair around her face.

“Kanasu,” her mother’s frantic voice echoed. 

“Why…why am I here?” Kanasu wheezed as she raised her head, only to find a crane hovering over her. Its flapping wings only worsened the storm as rain began to pelt down, making her feel as if she were in the middle of a hurricane.

“You won’t be for long. I need to show you a few things,” her mother answered, though the voice wasn’t coming from the crane.

“Show me what?! What does any of this mean?!” Kanasu cried out, struggling to hear herself over the raging storm. She screamed in agitation, clutching her head that had begun to pound again. Without explanation, the crane lowered its head and touched its beak to her forehead. Her eyes shot open as her head filled with old memories: sitting in her mother’s lap while she was sick, Xuān laughing with her over a cup of tea, her father and her training. They were all things she could remember. 

Then, the visions began to change. 

One moment, she was looking at a painful reminder of her escape from the Fire Nation, then the next, she saw a young boy riding on some kind of furry beast. The tattoos on his body glowed, and a protective sphere of ice formed around him. She blinked again and opened her eyes to see a Fire Nation banner being rolled over an Earth Kingdom flag, flames licking up tall walls of stone. These memories weren’t her own, but the fear that came from them felt very real.

The unrelenting images flashed through her mind faster and faster until she came to one that was less visual and more physical. Her vision was black, but she could feel something press against her lips. It was soft and hesitant at first, but it slowly turned hungry. She could feel a fire burning within her chest and stomach, but the emotions weren’t hers. 

“The future,” her mother spoke again, crane form completely obscured by the storm, “ Your future. Your prophecies. You will help guide the world to its deliverance.”

“Mom, I don’t understand! What prophecy?!” Kanasu shouted as she choked back a sob. The visions, the storm, the feeling of drowning slowly returning to her body, it was too much. Overwhelmed and afraid, all she could do was cry out to her mother. “Mom, I’m scared!”

“I know,” her mother whispered.

“Kanasu Lian,” a different voice called this time, “It is time.” This one was of a smooth and unnervingly cool male, yet still somehow came from the crane. 

“Give us a moment, please!” her mother begged, but it was too late. Kanasu let out one last desperate cry before her consciousness was slammed back into her body.

Immediately, Kanasu rolled over and threw up her breakfast into a conveniently placed bucket. If the dizzying winds of her dream weren’t enough, the room spinning when she woke up certainly didn’t help. Her body hurt all over, and even the slightest turn of her head made her want to pass out again. 

Those visions…

A boy in ice, the Earth Kingdom in flames, that crane, and —

Her face flushed scarlet as her fingers grazed her lips. She kissed someone – or was being kissed by someone, she couldn’t tell – but that gut-churning feeling of butterflies in her stomach made it obvious that it was consensual. How was this possible? How was she having these visions? 

“They’re just nightmares,” she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Her mother was gone, and she was used to seeing her in her dreams, but she had never heard that male voice before. Kavi sounded afraid of it, so did that mean something bad was about to happen?

Kanasu rolled her whole body so she was lying on her left side. When she took in her surroundings, she found herself in the same room she had first arrived in. 

“How did I end up here?” she mumbled, burying her face in her hands. Her hair was still wet, and she stunk of sea salt, but she looked fine otherwise. 

About ten minutes passed before she began to wonder if anyone would come to check up on her, but the peace she was granted was well-deserved. Moments alone on this ship were blessings, though last time she found herself throwing knives at a wall and crying. She could imagine Xuān telling her to stay calm and think first or her father placing a firm but supportive hand on her shoulder. 

That familiar guilt reared its ugly head as another wave of exhaustion hit. Kanasu was in no rush to get out of bed and scamper off to the kitchen this time. She wanted to be alone, and with the covers pulled over her head, she tried to go back to sleep. No dreams, no one yelling to wake her up, just a quiet night and some much-needed rest. 

Chapter Text

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Chapter seven

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Zuko landed a particularly hard punch on his sparring partner, a crewmember whom he pulled from his own training to take his frustration out on. When he first learned Kanasu was on the run from the Fire Nation, he didn’t think much of her. She was brought aboard, stabilised, and then locked away like all criminals should be. He hadn’t wanted to sacrifice all those troops when his father suggested his ruthless battle strategy, and that cost him his home. Now, he was sympathising with an enemy of the Fire Nation? Son of the year.

A flaming breath heated the frigid air around him, but not enough to refute the chill crawling down his spine. He got what he wanted. He finally broke the annoying rat that had been aggravating him constantly. So, why did he feel so guilty? 

One more fiery punch was all it took for his partner to fall over and hit the ground hard. The man looked dazed as a few other soldiers came by to check on him. Zuko made a “tch” sound and turned away, glaring at the floor. 

“What is wrong with me?” he hissed beneath his breath. 

“I think I need a minute, Sir,” the guard, gasping for air on the floor, raised a hand and wheezed.

“Whatever,” Zuko spun around in a dramatic show of his indifference. The soldiers sparring around them watched him storm off, unfazed. 

“Don’t take it personally, Ming,” he heard one of them say as he disappeared.

“Yeah, that girl’s got him all kinds of fired up,” another chuckled. Zuko’s face burned, and he fought the urge to turn back around and yell at them for insubordination. They weren’t completely wrong, but he would never admit that. He may not have his honour, but he still had pride and strength. If their fight was any indication, he had the upper hand over Kanasu with his honed control over his bending. Her work was sloppy, but her physicality was nothing to scoff at.

A waterbender born amongst the land of fire. Her mere existence was improbable, but wasn’t it his family that set that expectation? The tenacity of the Fire Nation under Fire Lord Ozai’s rule strengthened the divide between the people. Kanasu was the antithesis of everything his family stood for. She was proof that the Nations could live in peace and thrive under the right conditions, but it was his own family that was forcing a new mould onto society. He shook his head and dispelled the thought. Even if that were true, times were changing, and he most likely wouldn’t be able to say the same by the time he became Fire Lord. His father would restore the glory of the Fire Nation and pass a healthy, prosperous kingdom down to him. She was a replica of a complicated past he simply must let go of.

Currently, they were sailing further into the water of the Southern Water Tribe, and the weather was nothing short of deceitful. Bright and sunny skies with cold nipping winds. The firebenders weren’t at their full strength on the more wintry days, so Zuko set a stricter training schedule to keep them from growing too weary. Unfortunately, it seemed to have an adverse effect. 

“Uncle,” Zuko snapped as he burst into the navigation deck. Iroh was sitting off to the side, pouring some tea and playing Pai Sho with the very girl he was trying to avoid. Oddly enough, he noticed that he couldn’t see her regular bandages poking out from beneath her long sleeves. Had she not replaced them after falling into the ocean? 

“Nephew,” his uncle smiled and gently set his tea cup down, “We’re getting into colder territory. I think training sessions in these temperatures are only going to wear you out faster. Save your energy and play a game with me!”

Zuko’s eyes lingered on Kanasu for longer than they should have. “I don’t have time for games.” She avoided his gaze, making a hasty move on the board.

“Then a cup of tea perhaps! Jasmine is sure to get you warmed up,” Iroh raised the pot to pour a cup before he was answered. Zuko didn’t mind this time. Tea to fight off the nipping cold of the wind sounded nice, and Jasmine was one of his favourite flavours…

“I’ll go start lunch. Please excuse me,” Kanasu stood and bowed deeply to the two royal men. As she passed Zuko, he caught a firm but not painful grip on the loose fabric of her sleeve. He noticed her subtle flinch and then restraint.

“We need to talk,” he murmured just loud enough to reach her ears only. She simply nodded and then walked away. Once she was out of earshot, Iroh gave his nephew a sour look.

“Three days of awkward tension. Would it kill you to apologise for throwing the poor girl off the ship?” he huffed. Zuko rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t throw her, she fell. Besides, every time we’re in a room together, she runs away.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe you should talk to her privately instead of staring at her in a room full of soldiers?” 

“She’s just some peasant girl,” Zuko scoffed, “she should be coming to me. She wasted my time and deceived me!”

Iroh sighed and shook his head, “She could be useful as we enter the land of the waterbenders.”

“Or she could turn on us and fight. We don’t know what she can do. She’s lucky I haven’t ordered her back into a cell yet.”

“You forget she’s Fire Nation at heart. You can’t act like you aren’t from the same unforgiving land.”

Zuko sighed before sitting down and taking the cup that had been poured for him. He sipped it gingerly and thought on Iroh’s words. It was no secret that Kanasu was more forthright with the general, but how much exactly was she willing to tell him? “Do you know who her father is?” Zuko asked as the tension in the room dissipated and they eased into simple conversation.

“It’s not my information to share, Prince Zuko,” Iroh chided softly, “She’ll tell you on her terms.”

“I suspect he’s a soldier. She uses precise moves that even our troops have trouble with. I want to start looking into some of our older generals who work with recruits,” Zuko thought aloud. He recalled when she was first let out of her cage to prove herself in the kitchen. He questioned her lineage, and she responded with the same burning pride that was engraved into all Fire Nation citizens.

The way she fought, the way she corrected his stance…He already considered her weak then. He thought maybe if she lost, she’d learn some respect. 

“You haven’t given this poor girl a break since we found her unconscious on that boat. If you are going to ambush her, at least apologise first. She’ll show you kindness and respect in return,” Iroh suggested as he sipped his tea. There was hesitation and uncertainty in the long silence of Zuko’s response, but eventually he caved. 

“Fine. I’ll talk to her,” he hung his head in defeat and pinched the bridge of his nose to ease the growing pressure inside his head.

“Good to hear! Just please do it after dinner! Cooking with rage leaves a different flavour than love.”

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Kanasu slipped into her new bedroom and let out the heaviest sigh of her life. She dropped onto the bed she had woken up in after being dragged out of the ocean both times. The crew had deemed it her room ever since, and she quite liked not having to sleep on the floor. They were slowly reaching the Southern Water Tribe territory, and it had gotten rather cold at night, but the pile of blankets she had been provided kept her warm.

She ran a hand over her face and groaned, “Of course he’s everywhere I go, it’s his damn ship!” 

Kanasu let her hand wander down to the sleeve Zuko had grabbed. She noticed that he didn’t fully grab her wrist like every time before. He was careful of her burn, intentional or not. Lucky for her, considering she didn’t bother wrapping the bandages again. She couldn’t get past the red handprint on her arm that just wouldn’t go away. She could create a balm if she had some more supplies, but she didn’t see any comfrey leaves at the market. 

Similar to the panic attacks she got when hit by fire, the pain of touching it always made her chest uncomfortably tight. It was a good reminder of her failures. Her hands shook every time she looked at the wound in its entirety, which made her look like a fool in front of Zuko. She was glad the burn on her leg wasn’t nearly as bad.

“That hotheaded idiot…” she grumbled, falling onto a soft pillow face-first. 

Since waking up, she had done nothing but worry about her freaky dream and whatever was going on with Zuko. Considering she had no answers to the millions of questions regarding her dreams, she chose to focus on the latter. 

Her eyes closed as she wondered just how much he regretted his words. Everyone said things they didn’t mean when they were angry (and she made him angry a lot), but she remembered that moment of realisation towards the end of their fight. It was only a flicker, but for a second she swore he looked sorry for what he’d done. The words “I shouldn’t have…” were accompanied by a look of pure shock. Had he realised how cruel his exile had made him? What would it be like to live with a kinder Prince Zuko – the one who danced with commoners and pretended not to like it, even though the excitement in his eyes said otherwise?

All of these thoughts ran through her head, and yet she kept telling herself she didn’t care. She didn’t care if Zuko threw her away, she didn’t care if she was tossed back in a cell, she didn’t care if she drowned or not.

Knowing there was nothing on the ship that helped her escape her thoughts more than the kitchen, she let out a deep breath and left her room. Kanasu began planning dinner (honey garlic chicken and a side of assorted steamed vegetables), then started the dishes she had left unattended yesterday. With her waterbending now public knowledge, she could get chores done much faster, yet what relieved her more was that no one had even mentioned it. She did notice a few extra wary glances when she served the food, but no one treated her any differently. At least not to her face. 

The day was slow and filled with dread for her eventual talk with the bratty prince. Dinner was served earlier than usual on account of her anxious preparedness. If she didn’t have something to do, she’d think nonstop about how she might get thrown off the ship for a third time or put back in a cell. The soldiers still thanked her for the meal, and Iroh gave her a knowing smile, a silent attempt at telling her everything would be okay. 

When the sun finally fell below the horizon, a guard entered the kitchen just as she finished cleaning. Kanasu could see the pity in his eyes and knew the time had come.

“Let’s get this over with,” she dropped the towel she had been using to wipe the counter and folded her arms over her chest.

“He’s not in a very good mood, but he did ask for you,” the soldier warned her as they began the walk to Zuko’s study. 

“Is he ever in a good mood?”

“Fair point.”

Once they reached the door, Kanasu felt the lump in her throat fall into her chest. She didn’t expect an apology for all the things he said during their fight, especially not from someone as entitled as him, and that made her even more bitter. For someone so intent on staying hidden, she had a knack for causing a scene.

The guard knocked and announced their arrival, awaiting a muffled “Enter,” before opening the door. Kanasu noticed she was the only one to walk in, nodding to the soldier as he left. Gold met steel as the two teens stared at one another, neither sure what to say. After an agonising minute full of silence and heated looks, Kanasu spoke.

“I’m not going to apologise if that’s what you want.”

The prince leaned back in his chair, “Why didn’t you say you were a waterbender from the start?”

“Didn’t think I had to,” Kanasu shrugged nonchalantly, “I did say that I was part Water Tribe. Thought it might cross your mind.” She smiled at the way Zuko’s brows furrowed from her backhanded comment. 

He stood up, his chair making a mean screeching sound, “You’ve done nothing but pester me since I pulled your half-dead body out of the ocean, and all I get for it is frustration.” He took calculated steps towards her, but she didn’t move. Once he was close enough that the tips of his boots met hers, he glared down into the silver pools of her irises, “Tell me, do you still plan on escaping?”

Her head tilted to one side with a cocky raise of her brow, “We’re surrounded by water. If I wanted to fight my way out, I would have done so already.” Her smile fell, “I don’t fear you.”

“You should,” Zuko snapped.

“You’re just a bully with a shiny price tag.”

“And you're just an insolent brat.”

“Spoiled baby.”

“Homeless leech.”

One of Zuko’s fists burst into flames at his side, the stench of it burning Kanasu’s eyes. She took a reflexive step back, but the firebender matched it with his own movements until she was back against a wall and his flame was dangerously close to her face. Her heartbeat picked up a wild tempo, and her shoulders shook with each shuddering breath. 

“You won’t do it,” she lied. She knew he was completely capable of following through with his threat, anticipating the familiar searing pain. She focused on the golden eyes of her captor, bright and full of rage, but also something darker, a deep conflict hid beneath that royal mask. As he lowered his hand, Kanasu could see more and more of it come to the surface. 

“You don’t know me,” Zuko growled.

“Oh, please, I’ve been on this ship long enough. I know exactly what kind of person you are,” Kanasu folded her arms over her chest and scoffed.

“Enlighten me,” Zuko leaned over her, face and body heat entirely too close for comfort. She didn’t shrink but kept staring straight into the golden light in his eyes, illuminated by the candles of his room. 

All her father’s teachings of being respectful to royalty were completely disregarded. She wanted to punch this guy in the face.

“For someone who tries to act impassive, you’re entirely too emotional. You demand respect while not caring about anyone else, and you run your ship like your tyrannical father in hopes of impressing him. You are a lost child throwing tantrum after tantrum while you search for a way back to a home that never was.”

“And what about you?” The prince’s voice was low and dangerous, as if he were ready to kill her himself. 

“What about me?” Kanasu snickered.

“You pretend to be untouchable and fearless, but deep down you’re afraid. I see the way my flames scare you – the way you freeze when they come near you. If I truly wanted to control you…” He placed his hand on her upper arm and squeezed. The flames had been extinguished, but his palm was still hot enough to bring those painful memories rushing back. 

“Then hand me over already! If I’m such a nuisance, just pass me along to someone else!” Kanasu shouted, trying not to show how panicked she was. It was hot. Too hot.

“No. I saved you. You’re my mess to deal with.”

“Agni, you're so confusing! Either hate me or feel sorry for me! Pick a lane!” Kanasu shrieked, hands waving dramatically. The room went quiet as Zuko’s expressions morphed into something even less readable than before. When she saw him falter, she couldn’t help but laugh dryly. “I saw the way you looked at me after the fight – like I  was a toy you didn’t mean to break – and it’s frustrating because I’m supposed to be the one playing with you.”

“You never held any power here! You just showed up and integrated yourself into something that doesn’t concern you!”

“I stayed to survive! We were both forced out of our home, but you have never known what it’s like to fear for your life! You were given a big ship, soldiers, and supplies. Even your Uncle’s here to watch over you!”

“You’d be dead if it weren’t for me!”

“You think I owe you my life?” Kanasu pulled out her concealed knife and shoved the handle into Zuko’s hands with the sharpened edge digging into the pulse point at her neck, “Then take it.”

Zuko stilled entirely, her hand still lying over his. When she pulled the knife a little closer, a bead of crimson trailed down her collarbone, and she watched his eyes follow it as it disappeared into the fabric of her shirt. The waterbender exhaled shakily, lips curving slowly into a sickly sweet smile. 

“I’m tired, Zuko. Whatever this is,” she motioned to both of them, “isn’t fun anymore, so just do it.” 

The crazy dreams, her fall into the ocean, the constant scrutiny, the guilt…it was starting to become too much. Now felt as if she was nothing more than a coward, freezing up when the flames got a little too hot. She couldn’t see Zuko’s face anymore, but she could feel his grip on the knife loosen. He would laugh at her, no doubt, call her weak and a half-blooded savage with no real power. 

Every fibre of her hoped he’d run the blade through her flesh, then return her body to the ocean. Maybe she could see her mother again. What a sweet dream it would be to wake up with no shame and a pair of arms that embraced her like she’d always needed. 

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“Get up,” Zuko mumbled quietly before speaking with a more frustrated urgency, “Get up. Now.” She didn’t answer. 

Long silence filled the cabin again. Eyes of drowned silver were all the prince could see as he grabbed her face and tilted her head up, forcing her to pay attention to him. He watched her tears fall faster. The way she cried wasn’t as dramatic as he expected. There was no trembling like he had seen in the fearful prisoners his nation took, nor did she scream in anger like before. For someone so full of spunk and fight, she was surprisingly calm at this moment.

His breath caught in his throat when he caught sight of the thin streak of blood running down her neck. What was he supposed to do? No one ever taught him how to deal with an emotionally unstable teenage girl! Well, there was Azula, but they usually just gave her whatever she wanted, and he didn’t feel like killing this girl would solve anything. Frankly, she didn’t seem to want him to either.

He remembered being in a similar position as a child, not long after his cousin died and his father became Fire Lord. His mother had seen his anger building and pulled him into a tight hug, stroking his hair until he began to cry. She had said it was okay to be vulnerable sometimes. What a glorious lie that was.

“Stop crying,” Zuko demanded, eyes wide to the point of panic. He didn’t know what to do. He just wanted her to stop. 

“I guess I can’t blame you. I’d give up everything to go home, too,” her pitiful laugh turned to a quiet sob. 

Zuko wasn’t void of feelings, but he was good at ignoring them, which usually just made him angrier. He questioned just how much of himself he truly saw in this stranger he plucked out of the ocean: both tossed aside and forced out of their home, both uncertain of what lies ahead, both closing themselves off to people around them…Would he crumble like she did? Would it all become too much? Surely not, he assured himself, I’m stronger than her. 

Standing two feet apart, with nothing but a hair’s breadth between them, he came to terms with the fact that Kanasu was never a prisoner, no matter how hard he tried to make her one. This sobbing mess wasn’t a threat to him.

“I was wrong. I’m not…You’re not – I don’t,” he stuttered, the words never quite matching how truly guilty he felt for pushing her so far, “I don’t hate you. I don’t want you to die. I never did.” His words lingered in the air, only interrupted by the sound of the knife dropping to the floor. 

“I don’t hate you, either,” Kanasu admitted with a sniffle, head hung as she knelt on the ground. Zuko, at a complete loss for words, did the only thing he could think of and sat down in front of her. Her fists tightly grasped the fabric of her jacket until they shook with tension. A couple of minutes passed before she spoke again, “When did we become so violent?”

“I…I don’t know,” he muttered with furrowed brows. He turned to look out the window of the cabin. The unanswered question floated around the room like a painful callback to unwanted memories and broken promises. The sun had already set, and the waves gently sloshing against the hull of the ship were inky black amidst the night. How long had they been in here? How long had she sat at his feet crying, and he just stared at her? All these questions but one lingered consistently in the front of his mind. It was the reason he called her to his office in the first place (though an apology was also expected).

“I guess I should go. Wouldn’t want to give the crew any more reason to gossip,” Kanasu wiped her tears and replaced that mask of painted joy she wore. A bright smile lit up her face as she stood and bowed to Zuko formally, “We don’t have to talk about this ever again, and I’ll stay out of your way.” She slid the knife back into its hidden space beneath her waistband, and Zuko knew if he didn’t ask now, he never would.

“If I gave you the chance, would you run?” he asked in a carefully low voice. He had caught her off guard, and her lengthy pause made him think she might not even answer.

“Would you chase me?” she mumbled with a face flushed scarlet, as if she hadn’t expected the words to actually leave her mouth. “E – Excuse me. I gotta go…watch your face – wash my face,” in an instant, she was rushing to the door for a quick escape.

“Kanasu,” Zuko called sharply. She whirled around, dark hair twirling around her like her guarding veil. He wasn’t sure why he asked that specifically, but the crack in her façade made him glad he did. The sarcasm, the smiles…Watching it all fall away to this wide-eyed vulnerability felt rewarding in a way. 

“If you stay, you stay. If you go, you go. It’s out of my control now, so stop pretending I’m the one keeping you here,” his eyes narrowed to emphasise his point.

She stared hard, as if mulling over his words one last time before somehow growing a darker shade of red and darting out the door. Zuko ran a hand over his face once it closed, clawing at the ever-present tension in his body. An exhausted sigh ghosted his lips as he returned to his desk. 

Flopping into his chair gracelessly, he reached into a drawer and pulled out a sheet of paper. The top of the page read Wanted in bold letters, accompanied by a depiction of a young woman with long hair and sharp, glaring eyes. It was hard to believe that the sarcastic cook he harboured had such a large bounty on her head. 

Chapter Text

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Chapter Eight

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It was cold. So cold. 

Silver eyes wearily blinked open, burning from too much exposure to the elements. A few snowflakes fell from the dark lashes as she regained consciousness. The last thing Kanasu remembered was…falling?

No, she was cleaning – fighting – crying beside a prince – scared.

Lungs frozen from breathing in frigid air, she could feel the heavy weight of a mountain of snow holding her down. It was too cold. She was going to die here. Her family…what family? Loving parents and a little brother. This wasn’t her life, this wasn’t her body.

“Come on, where are you? Stay alive, damn it?!”

That voice…Her father? She tried to call out to him, but another voice responded.

“H – Here.”

Movement above alerted Kanasu to the arrival of help. What looked like a much younger version of her father dug into the snow with his bare hands and pulled her out from beneath the small avalanche. 

“Are you alright, Soldier?” he asked with furrowed brows. Kanasu felt her body move on its own and roll to face the warmth the man radiated. He lit a small fire in his extended palm, and the regular fear that she felt never came. In fact, she longed for the heat. Feeling slowly returned in her hands and face, but her consciousness was fading still. “What is your name?” her father asked, voice fading.

A gentle whisper in a familiar voice answered “Kavi” before the icy vision disappeared entirely. Her mother. This was her mother’s memory. 

Kanasu’s eyes shot open, and she found herself right back in her room, sitting crossed-legged in her meditation position. The cold from the vision still bit at her skin, so she grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around her tightly. She shivered as she crawled into bed and wondered what her mother was trying to show her. Was there some kind of book or scroll she could find that would explain her strange dreams?

From what her father told her, this particular vision was of the day her parents met. The collapsing snow and Kai-Ming rushing to save her fit the story, but seeing it through her mother’s eyes left her with a single answer only. She now knew she had more family out there. Water Tribe family. She had an uncle and grandparents somewhere up North, most likely. 

“Mom, please just tell me what to do. Tell me where to go,” Kanasu begged aloud. After a long moment of silence, she made up her mind to seek out Iroh. He was the only accessible person who had information about her mother. 

Once dressed, she searched the ship for the ex-general. It took nearly no time as he seemed to be searching for her, too. 

“Miss Kana! Just the person I’m looking for!” Iroh smiled fondly. 

Kanasu returned it with a bow, “General, I’ve been looking for you, too.”

“Shall we talk over a cup of morning tea, then?” The firebender turned and invited her to walk at his side. They made their way to the kitchen. Kanasu put a kettle on the stove, and Iroh lit the fire for her. Something about his flames always made the tea a bit sweeter, as stupid as that sounded. She knew better than anyone that putting your heart into something really did change the flavour. Even when Xuān made her elixirs, they somehow tasted better than hers. She could never grasp how she did that, but her mixes worked just fine anyway.

“So, what is it you wanted to discuss?” Kanasu asked as the water heated. 

“Well, it’s a minor favour. Morale has been a bit low lately, especially since the temperature has dropped. Everyone’s tired and cold. I was wondering if you’re as good at baking as you are cooking?” Iroh grinned hopefully. 

The dreaded question. She laughed nervously and cursed herself. A girl can’t be good at everything, as much as her ego would love that.

“I can make cookies, that’s about it. My cakes and other pastries are poison,” she explained as a bead of sweat fell down her temple. Iroh shook his head.

“Don’t worry! Whatever you can whip up will be just fine. I appreciate the help greatly,” he smiled with a warmth that reminded her of her father, “Now what can I help you with?”

“It’s about my mother…” Kanasu stared down at her hands as she anxiously picked at her nails.

“I see. I do not know how much information I can share with you, but I’ll do my best. Ask away,” Iroh urged. Pushing down her fear over the possibility of being called crazy, Kanasu told the general about the dreams she was having. She left out any mention of the Avatar, still aware of whose ship she was on in case word somehow got out. When she mentioned her latest vision, his eyebrows knit together in thought.

“I’m not crazy, right? These visions feel so real,” she sighed, fists clenched in her lap.

“Hm…How much did your father tell you about how he met your mother?” 

“Not much. Just surface-level stuff.”

“It could be possible her spirit is seeking you out, though why is beyond me. From what I was told, Kavi was a warrior from the North, though I suspected she was a sage at one point,” Iroh suggested as the tea kettle began to whistle. He rose to pour the enticingly warm beverage into an ornate teapot, hiding his sombre smile. 

“A sage? Like the Fire Sages that guard the temples back home?” Kanasu’s eyes grew wide in astonishment.

“Kavi once told me that there are sages in almost every nation. The Air Nomads were a bit different, but she never quite touched that subject. Based on what she said, the sages of the Water Tribes helped teach waterbending and guide lost souls, though she never went into much detail, and General Kai-Ming steered away from it,” Iroh explained, approaching with the cups and teapot on a tray. Kanasu nodded a quiet thank you.

“So, her life as a sage gave her some kind of power to commune after death?” she wondered aloud. 

“Perhaps,” Iroh shrugged as he began to pour the freshly brewed tea, “But who’s to say? The Spirit World is a place of mystery. Maybe your dreams are just dreams. Maybe her love for you just ran that deep.”

“Why are answers never easy to get?” Kanasu groaned, and she lay her face against the small kitchen table despairingly. 

“Now, where’s the fun in that?” Iroh bounced with laughter, and the young waterbender couldn’t help but smile. 

Having gotten all the info she could from him, she moved on to lighter topics. Iroh kept her company as she began lunchtime preparations. They discussed Kanasu’s horrible baking skills, old stories about her father, and Iroh’s hopes for planning a small party for the soldiers. It wasn’t a horrible idea, but they were limited to whatever she could bake and some alcohol that was stowed away for a rainy day. Still, it was something that would cheer up the crew.

After Kanasu and Zuko’s meeting, the atmosphere on the warship had improved slightly. Zuko was no longer torturing his soldiers with as intense training exercises as before, and even Iroh commented on the new fervour with which Kanasu cooked.

“It’s not like I changed the recipe. It’s the same fried rice I always make,” she pouted as she diced some garlic and then set it aside in a small bowl.

“It’s not just the rice! You’re cooking with more heart, my dear!” he waggled his eyebrows, receiving not even a glance in return. 

“I have no clue what you’re talking about, Sir,” she sighed and went back to cutting the final vegetables; carrots and scallions with the greens and whites separated. Shifts were about to change, which meant a horde of hungry soldiers was going to storm in and ravage her poor kitchen.

A small smile graced her face as she placed the vegetables into the sizzling wok. This crew treated her well and made her feel important. She was needed. After hiding away for most of her life, it felt good to just exist somewhere with no worries. Even the hot-headed prince was starting to annoy her less.

“I heard through the grapevine that you and Prince Zuko made amends,” Iroh smiled from his spot at the small corner table. 

“Is that so?” she shrugged while adding the rice, “I think we just agreed not to kill each other for the time being.”

In reality, she hadn’t spoken to the prince much since they had their little…moment. A blush crept onto her cheeks every time she thought about how embarrassingly honest she had been, not to mention the knife she forced into his hands. It was a wake-up call for them both.

“Either way, the ship feels a lot less tense when you two are on good terms,” Iroh chuckled.

“Well, he’s still a pain to deal with,” Kanasu huffed indignantly. Once the rice was cooked enough, she added eggs and more seasoning to taste before extinguishing the flame on the stove. The completed meal would then go into a large pot for serving, and the chef would mentally prepare herself for the rush.

Iroh followed her to the deck, walking in polite silence as they seemed to have talked about everything under the sun. She preferred it over the usual silence while she cooked, though she would sing to herself now and then. The salty smell of the sea was expected now, completely burned into the noses of every passenger, but every once in a while, the smell of smoke would linger after a particularly difficult training session. Today appeared to be one of those days as Kanasu crinkled her nose once they hit the open space.

She scanned the deck to find Zuko standing surrounded by three men circling him like hawks. They all shared determined looks before one of the soldiers threw a flaming punch the prince’s way. He ducked under it, hooking his arm over the man’s before slamming him to the floor. A second soldier threw ranged fireball attacks, keeping Zuko at a distance, but he dodged them with sharp, practised steps. He ran forward, bending the flames around his body before shooting them back. When his opponent side-stepped out of the way, two rogue fireballs shot towards Kanasu and Iroh. Luckily, they landed right in between them, but they both frowned down at the scorch marks.

“Can I throw them overboard?” she deadpanned. Iroh gave her a look that said he was considering her offer. Sighing, Kanasu raised her hands above her head, and a sizable stream of water rose onto the deck. With her guidance, it swirled above the heads of the sweaty idiots that had yet to notice her looming threat. She waited for Zuko to land a hard punch to the gut of the last man, with the other two flanking him with fists aflame, then drenched all four of them. An unfortunate fish caught in the crossfire flopped on top of Zuko’s head before dancing its way across the floor and off the boat. The ship fell silent except for Iroh’s boisterous laughter.

Kanasu cleared her throat, “Are you hungry or not?” When they turned to see her glaring, the three soldiers bowed instantly and apologised. 

“We’re sorry, Chef!”

“Please don’t be mad!”

“Won’t happen again!” 

“You’re going to pay for that,” Zuko growled in a low and threatening voice as he approached her, sopping wet. The water had begun to steam off his quickly heating body.

“Maybe you should learn to watch where you throw your fireballs. I see that proper aiming isn’t your strong suit,” Kanasu smiled as a vein in her forehead throbbed with annoyance. 

“I’ll show you a fireball — “

“That’s enough, you two. Take a break and eat, Prince Zuko! Miss Kanasu outdid herself with this one!” Iroh gave the young woman a gentle pat on the back. Behind them, the crewmates relieved of duty were scurrying downstairs to get their meals. Kanasu sighed when they disappeared down the steps, afraid of the mess they would make unsupervised. 

“Are you going to eat with everyone or sulk in your room?” she pointed her thumb over her shoulder.

“You’re all idiots,” Zuko grumbled in annoyance, brushing her shoulder as he stormed past her.

“Sulking it is.”

Once downstairs, Kanasu was glad to find that the soldiers had lined up outside the kitchen with their bowls in hand. She had created a cafeteria-style system and was glad the men respected her enough to follow it. All it took was some light wacks with a spoon, and she had them wrapped around her finger like a ring! She toyed with the idea of referring to herself as captain, but opted against it for her own sanity’s sake. Zuko wouldn’t let her hear the end of it if she started a coup.

The lunch rush came and went without a hitch. Judging by how cold it had been that morning, the weather would be a doozy once the sun set. The soldiers would need extra energy for dinner, so she had her work cut out for her. After everybody cleared the kitchen, she placed the dishes in the sink and did some light cleaning for easier use later. An hour passed before she began to think about the socially inept prince who had hidden away in his room. He was probably hungry by now…

“Ugh, curse me and my never-ending kindness,” she feigned a dramatic sigh and made up another bowl. Placing Zuko’s portion atop a silver tray, Kanasu followed the route to his bedroom. It was burned into her brain now, what with all the trips she made to see him – for completely normal matters like food and…more food. She lightly knocked on the door and, much to her surprise, he skipped the usual angry dismissal and just opened the door.

“What? No shouting at me to leave? No grabbing the bowl then slamming the door in my face?” she teased. The prince merely glared at her. He had changed into more relaxed clothes, loose red pants and a tighter-fitting black shirt. He looked good when he wasn’t head to toe in armour or royal regalia, and he was no longer sopping wet, except for his hair, which was still a bit damp. 

Growing up in the Fire Nation, Kanasu knew the cultural importance of one’s hair. It was their honour, their pride, their title. For Zuko to have most of his head shaved off was a public expression of guilt and disgrace. She had noticed his lack of volume several times before, but now it hit her differently. As sad as it was, she couldn’t help but snicker at the thought of seeing it down. Like a tiny stream in a barren desert…

“Brat,” he scoffed and snatched the bowl out of her hands, fingers brushing hers. She folded her arms over her chest and raised a brow expectantly. 

When a few uncomfortable seconds passed, Zuko frowned but gave in to her silent demand, “...Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Your Highness,” she spoke in a mockingly noble tone and curtsied. 

“I hate you.”

“Aw, I love you too!”

They both paused, the uncomfortable silence heavy and torturous. Kanasu cleared her throat and stared down at her boots, barely missing the way Zuko’s face burned with a scarlet blush. The flames of the hallway’s candles flickered for a moment, dancing wildly on the wicks.

“Oh, would you look at the time!” Kanasu clapped her hands together with a sudden finality, “General Iroh asked me to make food for the party tonight! I'd better get started!” 

“Party?” Zuko frowned.

“Yeah, you should come! Or don’t! Whatever!”  Kanasu shouted as she awkwardly shuffled away. Maybe a head start on dinner wasn’t such a bad idea. Perhaps she could follow it up with a nice trip to the bottom of the ocean. 

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Kanasu stared down at her eighth tray of cookies. She had been baking for hours. 100 chocolate chip cookies. A halfway decent vanilla cake. Fried shrimp bites that she had to fish out of the ocean with her waterbending. If this didn’t make the crew happy, she was going to drown them all and sink the ship. Agni as her witness.

By the time Iroh came to check in on her half of the preparations, Kanasu managed to finish two more batches of cookies. One of the two guards he brought with him to help carry her desserts wouldn’t take their eyes off the cake.

“Ming, no drooling! Len, please control your friend,” Kanasu pointed to them both with a stern frown on her face. Len flinched and grabbed the large bin of cookies. 

“Man, let’s go before she gets the spoon,” he whispered. Ming nodded and grabbed the cake with a tearful look in his eyes.

“The sun’s going to set soon. It’s about time to gather the troops,” Iroh beamed, glad his plan was unfolding nicely. Kanasu took a deep breath and let go of the tension in her shoulders. Once they were upstairs, she found that a few empty boxes had been pushed together to act as a table for her snacks. The smell of the cookies rivalled the salty air, attracting the crew like moths to a flame. 

“This is pretty nice. Good job, General Iroh,” Kanasu giggled lightly as the festivities began to pick up. Drinks were served, food was scarfed down, and at some point, Iroh fetched his pipa. 

As soon as the music started, Kanasu couldn’t help but remember the festivals back home. She laughed as a few drunken soldiers spun each other around with interlocked elbows until one of them toppled over. The others would then celebrate by taking another long swig of their drinks and cheering. When was the last time she danced? Safe to say, her father would have loved this crowd.

“Come on, Miss Kana! Dance with us!” One of the soldiers hollered while holding up his cup. A few others cheered in unison, but Kanasu shook her head. She was rooted to the crate she commandeered, sitting with crossed legs as she swayed to the music.

“Oh, I can’t really – !” she yelped as crewmate Ming pulled her to her feet. Stumbling a bit, she soon got into the rhythm of the discernibly fast song Iroh began to play, instantly recognising the challenge.

Kanasu raised her arm, allowing Ming’s to intertwine with hers as they spun around one another while stepping on beat. When a chord was accented, they would switch arms and turn the other way as the music got faster and faster. The dance was more of a game for Fire Nation citizens; whoever couldn’t keep up with the dizzying tempo that changed only at the whim of the band would lose and drink. Kanasu was a proud but silent champion, having never fallen (and also never drinking). It wasn’t something she did often, but she only ever lost to her mother as a child. Even though she wasn’t from the Fire Nation, Kavi picked up the custom quickly.

On one particularly quick spin, Ming caught his foot on his other foot and ended the dance sprawled on the ground, drunk and happy. Kanasu let out a loud barking laugh, similar to her father’s. 

“Alright, who’s next to challenge the Dancing Dragon?!” Iroh called from his seat. 

“I’ve never lost and I never will!” Kanasu’s lips twisted into a wicked grin as she giggled. The soldiers were lining up for a chance to dance with her, though it was all in good sport. Even if they lost, they were glad to have a reason to drink. 

Five rounds later, the merriment paused so the waterbender could take a short rest. Her cheeks began to hurt from all the smiling, and her legs were a bit sore. Iroh slowed the music down to something more manageable, humming to himself as he closed his eyes. Kanasu waltzed over to her small stash of homemade mango and lime juice she had hidden in one of the crates. Days of caring for her father after he had one too many left her habitually babysitting others instead of indulging herself, but her non-alcoholic cocktail did wonders.

“You aren’t going to unwind a bit, Miss Kana?” a younger recruit asked, crawling towards a plate of cookies after his third failed attempt at walking.

“With this many wobbling fools around? I don’t think so,” she snorted and popped open the crate, “I could drink all of you under the table, but then who would wake up in time to make breakfast — Hold on, who drank all my juice?”

“Huh? Juice? I thought it was some kind of wine?” Lieutenant Jee frowned, swirling the juice in his cup. “No wonder I don’t even feel tipsy…”

“You’re lucky I made extra,” Kanasu huffed. She pointed two fingers at her own eyes and then Jee as a final warning before she stormed off. Two or three bottles were still stashed away in the pantry and (if Agni favoured her), maybe some late-night snackers had yet to touch them. 

As she made her way to the companionway, her steps hesitated when she saw a familiar silhouette sitting at the top of the darkened staircase. The door clicked as it closed behind her, but neither of them said a word. Instead, Kanasu took a seat beside Zuko and wondered how long he had been sitting here. The music outside echoed faintly down the hall, interrupted now and then by the boisterous laughter of the crew.

“Y’know…” Kanasu began slowly, testing the waters, “You could come join us.”

“They don’t want me there,” he sighed with empty golden eyes that stared down into the darkness.

“I want you there,” The waterbender nudged him with her elbow. When he turned his head to look at her, she smiled slightly, only for him to turn his head again. She frowned, “Not everyone is your enemy, Captain. Trusting isn’t easy, but you’ve been sailing with these people for years; have a little faith.”

When the Prince fell silent again, Kanasu racked her brain for ways to cheer him up or even annoy him into at least getting out of this stairway. Biting her bottom lip anxiously, she stood up and turned so she was staring down at him, “Hey, do you…wanna dance?” She held out a slightly too sweaty hand and ignored the butterflies in her stomach that felt more like a beehive. Everything in her said this was a bad idea, but she couldn’t help herself. 

“Why would I do that?” Zuko frowned.

“Humour me, Your Highness,” Kanasu felt a small smile creep onto her face. Zuko silently took her hand and walked down until they were standing on the platform between the flights of stairs. Kanasu’s lips twitched into a small smile as she placed her right hand on his shoulder and held her left hand up. His eyes flickered with distant recognition as he slowly intertwined their fingers. Dark brows furrowed, and Kanasu swore she could hear gears turning in his head. 

As Kanasu took the leading step back, Zuko mirrored her movements. Unlike their first dance all those years ago, he was sure-footed and somewhat confident. She wondered if he had replayed their dance in his head as many times as she did. A little escape for both of them; a night of fantasy, with no war, no judgment, and no chance of failure. Their childhoods felt so far in the past that thinking about it meant becoming different people entirely. 

Kanasu stepped back, only her left hand holding onto the prince as she prepared to spin him; however, she gasped when he pulled her in first. She twirled towards him until her back thumped against his chest, leaving his arms wrapped around her like a cage. When the moment of her release should have come, he only held her tighter.

“It was you,” he said into her ear in a low voice. His breath tickled her neck and caused a shiver to run down her spine. He probably felt her body tremble. 

“What are you – “ 

“Don’t play dumb,” he snapped. One of his arms came up and covered her eyes, only for his fingers to part around her eyes like her mask did all those years ago. He let out a dry scoff, “Of course it was you. I’ve never seen eyes like that on anyone else in the Fire Nation.”

Silently, Kanasu raised one of her hands to gently grab his wrist and pull it away from her face. Her eyes closed as she took a deep breath. Zuko didn’t sound mad or shocked, just…certain. As if he had clicked together the last pieces of a puzzle, and now he didn’t know what to do with it. 

A few seconds of wretched awkwardness passed before she tilted her head back to look up at the prince. The top of her head grazed his chin before falling on his chest. “That was a fun night,” she admitted.

Zuko’s eyes widened slightly, “It was…” His voice trailed off as if he couldn’t find the words. He slowly released his hold on her, but she didn’t move. “How did you know it was me?” he asked.

“I knew almost every kid in that city. Worried parents come by the clinic all the time, and you were new,” Kanasu shrugged, “Plus, your mask was far too expensive for anyone in town to afford.”

“My sister made us wear them,” Zuko grumbled.

“She was there, too? I guess I ran into the right sibling then. I really didn’t want to dance with her,” Kanasu laughed. 

When she noticed a small smile form on the angry prince’s face, she took a mental note and filed it away for safekeeping. She wouldn’t mention the obvious practice he had or the way he carefully placed his hands on her, as if he might hurt her. His body heat was still so warm compared to the freezing air she had been struggling against all night. At the thought, another shiver racked her body.

“You’re cold,” Zuko noted. Kanasu shook her head.

“It’s not too bad on deck. All the drunk firebenders are keeping it pretty warm,” she joked, though he must not have approved, judging by his deep frown.

“They’re slacking off and being reckless. If someone gets hurt – “They’re having fun,” Kanasu snorted and shook her head. Prince Zuko let his arms slowly fall, but his eyes never left her.

“You’re more than welcome to join us, Captain,” she raised a brow and put a hand on her hip. He looked towards the door for a second, then shook his head.

“I’d make it awkward.”

“You’re always awkward.”

“Brat.”

“Spoiled baby.”

“Ungrateful pest.”

Kanasu giggled at their banter, now finding comfort in their ridiculous back and forth. Even Zuko seemed less annoyed by it. Neither of them hated each other anymore, but it was hard to tell what they were now. They simply understood one another. 

“I should get going. Come get me if you feel like dancing again,” the waterbender beamed as she turned to continue her walk to the kitchen. Some small part of her hope he would have stopped her and asked for one more dance, but she quickly remembered her place. This wasn’t some summer dalliance with a cute neighbour; it was an intimate moment with the prince of her homeland that most likely would not happen again. 

But oh, can a girl dream...

Though he was entirely different when they talked alone, this new side of him was not nearly as intimidating, and she found herself wanting more of it as she made it to the kitchen. Her face was practically on fire as she buried it in her hands, back against the kitchen door. 

“I’m in so much trouble.”

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Kanasu woke up early to prepare for the hungover crewmates. As tired as her legs were, she rushed around the kitchen to ready a big breakfast for the zombie-like soldiers. Sure enough, by the time the food was ready, she could hear the grumbling men lining up outside her door. She had made an insane amount of pancakes, eggs, and toast and urged each of them to take at least one cup of water. 

“What would we do without you, Miss Kana?” a man cried as he loaded up his plate with four pancakes, two toast, and three spoonfuls of eggs. 

“You’d all be like Ming,” Kanasu chuckled, and everyone turned to look at the burly firebender who managed to pass out against the wall while waiting in line. She raised her hand and with one sharp movement, a stream of water rose from someone’s cup and whipped the soldier on the leg.

“Ow, what the hell?!” he whined as he bounced around on one leg, holding the other carefully. The rest of the soldiers laughed or gave the poor man a look of pity. 

As everyone served themselves, Kanasu piled food onto two plates and then placed the dishes on a serving tray. She didn’t trust the others to leave enough food for Iroh and Zuko, so she’d deliver the meals herself. General Iroh was sitting on the deck, enjoying the breeze as he ran through some Pai Sho moves.

“Hungry?” she asked while balancing the tray on one hand.

“Starved!” Iroh‘s face lit up at the arrival of his food. The chef handed him his portion, and when he saw her start scanning the ship, his smile turned to a mischievous grin. “Looking for someone?” 

“He’s usually up by now,” Kanasu frowned. 

“Why so concerned? Did something happen?” Iroh waggled his eyebrows suggestively, earning an eyeroll in response.

“What goes on in that head of yours?” she huffed.

“Well, right now I’m craving a nice game of Pai Sho. Care to join me?” 

“Only if you don’t mind losing.”

“Bring it on, young lady!”

Kanasu put the tray down beside her and sat opposite Iroh. She always enjoyed games with Iroh, even if she never won. She had even asked him if her custom tile from her father had some secret in-game value, but he merely shook his head. 

As their game began, the groggy soldiers with a slightly better attitude dragged themselves up to their posts for the morning shift. While they were still nursing headaches and sore muscles, they still thanked her. She even received the occasional pat on the head from a few passersby. Each click of the stairway door opening made her turn until she began to grow irritated with herself. 

“Is something the matter?” Iroh asked as he moved another piece towards victory. 

“So annoying,” she grumbled under her breath with a sour frown settled onto her face.

“I recall him saying the same thing about you once upon a time,” the general chuckled.

Kanasu stared at him unamusedly, “And he still says it, so your point is…?” 

“I’m just saying your relationship has clearly blossomed over the past few months.”

Months. 

Kanasu froze right as she picked up her next tile. She had been on the ship for six months. It didn’t sound like a long time, but she had never been this far from home for so long. Her eyes scanned her unbandaged arm, noticing how the angry redness of it had faded a bit, even if the handprint was still visible. Her hair had gotten quite long, too. Even as it was pulled into two low-hanging braids, it still reached her lower back. Things had changed since her time as a prisoner, but nothing felt that different. 

“Well,” she pouted, snapping out of her haze, “At least I’m not recklessly throwing fire at people.”

“It was one time, get over it.” 

Snapping her head around, Kanasu nearly jumped out of her skin when the brash firebender in question appeared behind her. She had been so fixated on where he might be before, how did she not notice him?!

“Twice, actually, and you never apologised!” she hissed. 

Zuko folded his arms over his chest and raised a brow, “This ship is crawling with Firebenders. It happens, get used to it.”

Kanasu opened her mouth to retort, but froze when that nervous buzz in her chest grew tenfold. It wasn’t painful, but it felt like her very soul was vibrating inside her body. She clutched a fistful of fabric above where her heart was and looked up to Zuko, only to find his focus somewhere else. 

Following his line of sight, her eyes widened and her jaw dropped at the tall beam of light erupting from the snowy landscape. The light blue colour fascinated Kanasu to the point where the pulsing of the beam felt like it was calling to her. 

The ship was dead silent until Zuko spoke, “Finally…Uncle Iroh, do you realise what this means?”

“Miss Kanasu and I won’t get to finish our game?” Iroh sighed heavily.

“It means my search is about to come to an end,” Zuko’s eyes narrowed into a dangerous glare. Kanasu knew that look. He was on the hunt, and there was no stopping him. “That light came from an incredibly powerful source! It has to be him!” 

“Or it’s just the celestial lights,” Iroh calmly added, “We’ve been down this road before, Prince Zuko. I don’t want you getting too excited over nothing.”

“Those are no celestial lights,” Kanasu muttered, staring at the light as it began to dissipate with the odd feeling in her chest. Iroh tried to hide his worried look, but she could still tell that he knew something was up.

“Helmsman, head a course for the light!” the prince shouted, vision so fixated on the horizon that he didn’t see the way his chef anxiously watched him. She gnawed on the inside of her cheek as her mother's words replayed in her mind.

“You cannot let the Avatar fall into the hands of Fire Lord Ozai.”

Please don’t hate me for this, Captain.

Chapter Text

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Chapter Nine

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Kanasu’s dread only grew as the ship neared the territory of the Southern Water tribe. She had tried to think like Iroh and pretend that the light was just some environmental phenomenon, but what she felt was too real. Unfortunately, no matter how hard she tried to connect with her mother again, she couldn’t contact her. She was told to keep the Avatar from falling into the clutches of Fire Lord Ozai, but if this person were still alive, he’d be well equipped to defend himself. So, why was she needed? What was so special about her? 

“Are you going to stare at that pot for hours or tell me what’s wrong?” 

Kanasu was pulled from her thoughts by Iroh, who had come to find her after she disappeared from the deck. She started absentmindedly working on the next meal, though lunch was still a few hours away and she kept getting lost in thought. Looking down, she realised she had placed a pot on the stovetop but never actually began to cook.

“It’s just…” she sighed heavily through her nostrils, “What if this is a mistake? What if he does find the Avatar and the Fire Lord does something unspeakable?”

“What if it’s not the Avatar?” Iroh asked softly.

“I know what I felt, General. My body reacted to that light. I don’t know why or how, but I’m certain the Prince is close to his goal. What am I supposed to do then?” she replied with wide eyes, shiny from the thin layer of stress-induced tears. They would never fall but the looming threat of them was very real.

“Prince Zuko is getting together a small group to approach the Southern Tribe with. Maybe you should ask to go with him,” the general suggested. Kanasu thought about it for a while. If she were to go on land with Zuko and he did manage to find the Avatar, what would she do? As much as she wanted Zuko to succeed and find the peace he was looking for, the fate of the world hung on the shoulders of the Avatar. Personal feelings aside, she was given a task by a strange ethereal dream version of her mother (and a crane…?) and had a duty to uphold. 

“You’re right. Thank you, Sir,” she bowed to the royal tea drinker and left the kitchen to find Zuko before he left the ship. She knew they weren’t far from land, so he would most likely be in his room, preparing to disembark. 

Once Kanasu made it to the hall outside the prince’s room, she realised she had no true argument for why she should go on land. No way was she telling him about her dreams or her intentions regarding the Avatar. She’d be thrown overboard for sure. Steeling herself, she knocked on the door and bit her lip anxiously. The sound of light armour rustling behind the door only made her more nervous.

As soon as the door clicked open, she bowed fully at the waist, “Please let me go with you!” 

“Absolutely not,” Zuko said with a powerful finality as he brushed past her. She frowned and chased after him.

“Why not? I’m a waterbender, I’ll be useful if they fight back!” 

“I said no.”

“I want to see the South Pole and I can fight, you know that!” Kanasu argued. She was growing irritated with Zuko’s constant forward march and avoidance. He hadn’t even looked at her and he was still shutting her down. Finally done, she ran so she was ahead of him and spun around to glare at him. “Will you just listen?!”   

Zuko’s sour expression worsened as he came to a stop and stared at her like he did when they first met. She was taken aback by the sheer animosity in his amber eyes.

“What’s up with you?” she asked with stern resilience.

“Today is the day I fulfil my destiny and finally catch the Avatar. I will not let some clingy peasant girl get in the way,” Zuko answered with a deep snarl, “You are a distraction and a nuisance. Now move.”

Kanasu stood firmly in place for a moment. Did he have a change of heart after their dance? Knowing this argument would get her nowhere, she stepped to the side and bowed her head. Zuko seemed surprised that she didn’t give him more of a fight, but continued past her.

“Best of luck, Your Highness,” she mumbled. The prince scoffed and didn’t stop. The Avatar was close, they both knew it. Pretending to be friends was nice while it lasted. Running back to the kitchen, Kanasu understood what she had to do now and felt a lot less sorry about it. Zuko would leave the ship soon and she needed to be prepared.

.

.

“Pacing will do you no good, dear,” Iroh noted after Kanasu walked in yet another circle. She had been anxiously waiting for Zuko’s team to return since the moment he left. Either he had an Avatar in his possession or they were all going to have a very bad day. 

“How do you introduce yourself to the war-ending saviour of humanity? Hello, my dead mother came to me in a dream and said I had to help you! Got any jobs for me?” she wondered aloud.

“Destiny isn’t as straightforward as it seems,” Iroh explained with a calm smile. Letting out a frustrated groan, Kanasu ran her hands over her face and wished she understood more about vaguely worded spiritual communication. 

When the clanking sound of approaching armour reached her ears, she perked up and stood like a soldier ready for battle. Iroh gave her an encouraging smile as Zuko arrived with the two soldiers he took with him and…

A kid?

The two soldiers got to work tying up the bald kid with arrow tattoos who looked like he wasn’t even a teenager yet while the ship readied for departure. He wore light orange and tan clothing, which she had seen in many illustrations of air nomads. Kanasu threw a confused look Zuko's way but he was too busy studying some kind of wooden staff to notice.

“This staff will make an excellent gift for my father,” he noted before looking down upon the young boy with a glare Kanasu was all too familiar with. He was acting too cocky. Victory wasn’t assured yet. “I suppose you wouldn’t know of fathers, being raised by monks.”

The boy looked unamused to say the least. He had yet to speak, but his eyes did shift subtly towards Kanasu for a split second. In that moment, she felt that familiar buzzing within her soul, although not as intense as that morning. 

There was no doubt in her mind, now. This kid was either the Avatar or some other highly spiritual being.

The boy’s eyes widened but Zuko began speaking again before they could interact, “Take the Avatar to the prison hold.” He thrust the staff into Iroh’s hands and stormed off, “And take this to my quarters.” 

“Mind taking this to his quarters for me?” The general quickly passed it off to the nearest soldier while the two accompanying crewmates dragged the tattooed boy below deck. 

Silently, Kanasu followed several paces behind the guards, making her way down to the cells that she herself had once been held in. Peeking around the corner, she saw one of the soldiers start to unlock the door to the cell but she ducked behind the wall when the other turned in her direction. She needed to talk to the Avatar and get some answers first, then she’d free him.

A hard thud from the other end of the hall caused her to tense. Hopefully, they hadn’t knocked him out. The Avatar looked light and she’d be able to carry him if needed, but then she’d also have to escape the ship —

Before she could finish her thought, Kanasu had the wind knocked out of her as something hit her hard in the chest. The raven-haired girl gracelessly fell backwards and winced when she landed flat on her butt.

“Ow, that hurt…” 

Opening her eyes, she stared in astonishment at the Avatar that looked entirely too young to have the fate of the nations on his shoulders. 

“Hey, it’s you!” his steel-grey eyes sparkled as they grew wide. Instantly, Kanasu felt the reverberation in her chest begin again. The Avatar knit his brows in confusion, “How are you doing that?” 

“I was hoping you could tell me…” she answered quietly, pulling her hidden knife from her belt.

“Wait, let’s talk about this!” The boy began to scoot away from her, but she held her hands up in a show of innocence.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she spoke calmly, stepping behind him to cut him free. The ropes fell to the floor then she tucked her knife away. 

“Thank you, but…I don’t understand. Aren’t you Fire Nation?” 

Kanasu’s answer was cut off by the echoed shouts of the soldiers down the hall.

“The Avatar has escaped!” 

“Come with me,” she grabbed the boy’s hand and began navigating the winding path that led to the stairwell. He didn’t try to stop her, much to her surprise.

“Where are you taking me?” 

“We’re finding you a way out of here.”

“I need my staff first! I can’t fly without it!”

“You can fly?” It was Kanasu’s turn to look at him with wide eyes. Shaking her head clear, she rerouted in her mind, “Ah, right. Avatar. Fine, but you have to be quick.” As the two of them turned to run through another corridor, their path was blocked by three guards. Before she could make up some kind of excuse, the Avatar created a strong gust of air that slammed one of the soldiers into the wall and sent the other two flying down the hall. Kanasu let out an impressed whistle.

With the path cleared, the two rushed forward and up a flight of stairs. Once Zuko’s room was finally in sight, Kanasu felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. There were no guards and the door was left wide open with the staff leaning inconspicuously on the wall. 

“My staff!” The Avatar’s face lit up at the sight of his beloved possession.

“Wait! Damn it...” Kanasu cursed under her breath as she slowed to a stop a few feet away. She hid against the wall while he idiotically rushed into the room, too far for her to stop. He was just a kid, after all.

“Looks like I underestimated you,” Zuko said as he emerged from the shadows, just as she expected.

“Not you again,” the Avatar groaned in annoyance. Zuko instantly attacked with waves of fire and projectile shots that backed the young boy into a corner with every panicked dodge. 

As the sounds of fighting continued, Kanasu wondered if there was any way to get out of this mess safely. If she helped the Avatar, there was a chance she could be caught and made a prisoner again. If she helped Zuko, she risked the unforeseen consequences of not following her mother's advice and possible eternal war. It didn’t sound like that hard of a decision, yet she couldn’t help hesitating.

After hearing some muffled shouting and the various wooshes of both Airbending and firebending, Kanasu saw the Avatar race out of the room on a ball of rotating air. He hopped off of it and grabbed her hand.

“He’s angry! Let’ go…!” he furrowed his brows as they ran, “Hey, what’s your name?”

“Kanasu. And you?” 

“I’m Aang!”

When the duo reached the observation deck, Kanasu watched Aang prepare to throw his staff over the edge, above the lower deck. He paused to give her one last look.

“I can’t fly with two people, but I’ll be back on my bison! I’ll get you out of here, don’t worry!” he beamed. Her steel-coloured eyes grew wide before her expression softened with a smile.

“Don’t worry about me, just go. I’ll be fine,” she nodded. He returned the gesture then tossed his staff, which snapped open to reveal wings made from a thick canvas-like material. Aang leapt off the deck while horizontally holding on to the staff and began to glide along in the breeze. “Huh. He can fly,” Kanasu marvelled aloud. 

Her amusement was cut off when one angry fire prince ran past her and jumped, grabbing onto Aang’s ankle and offsetting his balance. 

“Monkeyfeathers!” Kanasu hissed as she watched the two tumble down onto the deck with a harsh crash. She leapt down onto their level and rushed towards the boys. By the time she reached them, they were both standing and glaring at each other.

 “Zuko, please!” Kanasu shouted, noticing the way his eyes darted towards her, “You need him alive!” He merely nodded. She didn’t want to fight Zuko, but if the Avatar needed him distracted, she could take the fall. Before anyone could move, a deep beastly growl broke through the air, turning all of their attention to the sky.

“Appa!” Aang turned to Kanasu, “See? Bison!” Kanasu’s jaw fell as she stood there in shock at the giant, furry six-legged creature flying through the air without wings. On top of it sat two people whom she couldn’t quite make out from that distance.

“Mom, you didn’t prepare me for this,” she mumbled under her breath. Her head whipped around just in time to see Zuko shoot a wave of fire at the Aang boy, who deflected it with a twirl of his staff. He had been doing so well at avoiding being hit until he lost his grip, sending his staff skittering across the deck. He scrambled to grab it, but Zuko shot a stream of fire in front of him. Aang barely managed to roll out of the way.

As the flames grew closer and closer to hitting him, he hopped back onto the railing of the deck. His arms spun wildly, though they failed to keep him up. Ever the opportunist, Zuko shot another few waves of fire at the unbalanced boy.

Afraid that he would hurt Aang, Kanasu cursed herself and drew up a small stream of water from the ocean. It was just enough to fizzle out Zuko’s fire and keep Aang safe.

“What are you doing?” Zuko snapped at her.

“You need him unharmed. Do you want to give your father damaged goods?” she argued. What they hadn’t accounted for was that the Avatar would straight up hurt himself. He tried to place his foot back on the railing but slipped and toppled over the side. Kanasu rushed to the ledge, peering over it with a gasp as he sunk deeper into the waters.

“Fish him out,” Zuko ordered, eyes focused on the sinking form of the Avatar until they could no longer see it. Kanasu opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by that same reverberating feeling in her chest, except this time it came in sharp thrums. She dropped to one knee and clutched her chest, eyes screwed shut.

“She is not ready.”

That voice…Why was it so familiar? What the hell was going on? 

“She is strong,” came the stern reply of a feminine voice she knew all too well. It was definitely her mother speaking, but who was she...

The bird. She knew the male voice because she had heard it once beforenin her dream. It had to be the crane.

Suddenly, Aang burst from the water, interrupting her thoughts with a spinning vortex of water building beneath him. His eyes and tattoos were glowing a brilliant blue-ish white as he rode the columns of water back down onto the deck. The water shifted and circled the Avatar in a magnificent display of true waterbending talent. He downed several of Zuko’s officers with a single wave and pushed Zuko himself over the edge of the ship. 

He turned to her with radiant eyes, the glowing light pulsing in time with her rattling bones. Why did her back ache so suddenly? There was no time for questions, however, as Aang promptly collapsed onto the deck. The bison landed on the ship and the two teens dressed in Water Tribe clothing jumped down to check on him. Kanasu approached slowly and silently, aware that she was still a stranger in Fire Nation colours, but worried nonetheless. When she saw Aang’s eyes flutter open, she made her presence known.

“Are you okay?” she asked. The Water Tribe boy jumped to his feet and held out a boomerang defensively. The girl held Aang a little closer and scowled. Kanasu held her hands up in surrender.

“She’s not a threat,” Aang explained weakly, “She helped me.”

“Waterbender, see?” Kanasu pulled up some of the water left on the deck from his attack and curled it around her arm.

“Then why are you – “ “There isn’t time to explain. If Aang’s alright, you three need to fly out of here as soon as possible,” she demanded, grabbing the airbending staff and handing it to the Water Tribe boy. 

“Thank you,” the girl nodded sharply, getting to her feet and helping Aang up.

“You won’t come?” he asked with a worried furrow of his brows. As much as she wanted to, Kanasu knew she couldn’t.

“I need to make sure the Captain’s alright. He’ll keep chasing you, so we’ll probably meet again,” she sighed, noticing a few of the guards behind them were starting to stand. The Water Tribe teens rushed towards the bison, Aang barely managing to get on it before the soldiers caught up.

The Water Tribe girl moved her arms to waterbend, but only succeeded in freezing the feet of the boomerang-wielding boy behind her.

“Katara!” he shrieked and she winced. Kanasu discreetly waved her hands to bend the puddles of water at the soldiers’ feet, tripping them. The Water Tribe girl spun around and shut her eyes tight, reversing her manoeuvre from earlier to encase the men in ice. The boy broke free from his own icy shackles and pulled the girl onto the bison. They had barely taken to the skies when Iroh pulled a soaked Zuko back onto the ship.

“Shoot it down!” the irate prince demanded. A few soldiers collectively gathered their flames and aimed a giant fireball at the escaping bison. Fortunately, Aang used a current of air to redirect it. Unfortunately, it hit a mountain and caused an avalanche that buried the front half of the ship in snow. Kanasu let out a heavy sigh, both relieved by their escape and dreading the eventual clean up of all the snow. 

“Good news for the Fire Lord,” Iroh spoke calmly, “The Fire Nation’s greatest threat is just a little kid.”

Zuko rose from the ground, “That kid , Uncle, just did this! I won’t underestimate him again.” His attention turned to Kanasu, “Free the ship and then follow them!” he barked out before storming off. 

Kanasu frowned at his retreating back, then commanded the ice to revert back to water form and fall back into the ocean. The snow took a lot longer to move – nearly an hour once the soldiers helped her melt some of it away. She then returned to the kitchen to make a hot soup for everyone. 

When Zuko never showed up for dinner, she knocked on his door to deliver his meal only to receive no answer. She left it in the hall and walked away without a word. Whatever tantrum he was throwing was not her problem. She had done well today.

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Aang sat on Appa’s head as he and his new Water Tribe friends, Sokka and Katara, slumbered away in the saddle. The night was quiet, which allowed his mind to wander back to the girl he met on the warship. The name Kanasu wasn’t familiar, but the resonating of their spirits was too strange to ignore. 

“Who are you?” he thought aloud.

“Aang? Are you okay?” Katara mumbled as she slowly woke from her sleep. 

“Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about that girl, Kanasu. I know I’ve never met her before, but I feel like I have…” he stared down at the water below them. The reflected moonlight sparkled along the horizon, and the rippling of the water made it dance in the inky abyss of the night. 

“Did you see that burn on her arm?” Katara asked as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“Yeah, but if she were a prisoner, why weren’t they chasing her, too?” Aang questioned, a tinge of guilt heard in his voice.

“She’ll be okay. You offered to help and she chose to stay. You did all you could,” Katara yawned before laying her head back down. The bald boy took a deep breath and ran his fingers through Appa’s fur soothingly. The beast let out a low, appreciative grumble as they flew through the rest of the night.