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Chapter Text

Zuko knew the minute he set foot on the ship that would bear him in his banishment that he was in over his head. He swayed on the deck, the waves beneath the boat and the pain of his injured eye and ear unbalancing him. He straightened further, planting his feet.

He was still in so much pain from the fresh burn on his face, but he had forgone the medicine this morning so that he could board his ship under his own power. He refused to be carried aboard. He must make a good first impression on his crew, and a good final impression on his country. They would both see him standing tall and strong as was expected of a prince, even if that was not how he felt at all at the moment.

Lieutenant Chow did not seem to care about Zuko’s pride or rank. He scowled when Zuko ordered him to set a course north, out of Fire Nation waters. The man had been court-martialed twice, but acquitted both times on technicalities. His crew were a rough lot, the dregs of the Fire Nation Navy. They were not the sort of men that would take well to being ordered around by a thirteen-year-old. Zuko wondered if there was any way that he could appear strong enough to them to command their loyalties. It wasn’t likely, not with Zuko’s luck, but he would try his hardest anyway.

His father had not come to see him off. Neither had Azula. There was only a single Fire Sage and a few guards to ensure he left as ordered. He was alone. It was a familiar feeling since his mother had disappeared.

Even Uncle had not bothered to bid him farewell. Zuko supposed that it was only what he deserved. Uncle had indulged him enough, when Zuko could not even heed his simple instructions. Uncle must be ashamed of him now, just like Father.

Zuko steeled himself not to linger on his shame, only project strength he did not feel. He stood at the bow of the ship, facing ahead as they steamed out of the harbor. He felt the light of Agni on only one side of his face. He did not look back. He could not (bear to) think about returning to his family’s approval until he had regained his honor.

He would capture the Avatar or die trying.

“Traitorous scum!” Zuko snarled. “You honorless swine!”

The men only laughed at him. And why wouldn’t they? All Zuko had left was insults, and those hardly mattered to his mutinous crew.

“Here,” Lieutenant Chow said, and tossed a canteen over the gunwale so it landed in the dirt at Zuko’s feet. “Plenty of brush on this island. You’re a firebender. Light a signal fire. Maybe someone’ll see it and pick you up.”

“And if they don’t?”

“That would probably be better. No way for you to point the finger at us if you’re dead.”

“If I die, your next court martial will see you hanged!”

The lieutenant shrugged. “Only if they catch me.”

“Why do this? You will be on the run from the Fire Nation the rest of your lives for this mutiny.”

“Well, little prince,” the lieutenant responded, “I’m not real interested in spending my best years sailing hither and yon in this rusty tub on a wild pig chicken chase under the command of a stripling boy. Begging your pardon, of course.” He smiled. “A pirate’s life may have its dangers, but also its appeal.”

Zuko sneered. “Not only are you traitors and scum, you are cowards as well. Are you so afraid of me that you will leave me without a weapon? Or is it out of petty cruelty that you would deny me the means for a clean and honorable way out?”

Lieutenant Chow scowled. “Here,” he shouted, and lobbed another object at Zuko. “Use it if you have the guts.” The crew laughed again. It was admittedly a fitting joke, even if Zuko did not find it particularly amusing.

Zuko picked up the knife as his former ship disappeared into the distance. The lieutenant had been so good as to give him his own knife back. This was the pearl dagger Uncle had sent him just before cousin Lu Ten died. It wasn’t good for much, its design being more ceremonial than useful, but it would do fine for the purpose it was returned to him.

Zuko read the inscription again without really seeing it. Never give up without a fight.

Well, he had the single canteen of water. He could struggle on for at least a few days more before he would need the knife. The dagger had been a gift from Uncle. He should honor the spirit in which it was given out of respect for the man, even if Uncle would never know how he fought.

The island was little more than a rock sticking up out of the sea. It didn’t take Zuko long to traverse it in search of the best vantage point. Not that he could see very well at the moment, with one eye bandaged. He gathered brush for a signal fire as he went. Lieutenant Chow was an odious coward, but he wasn’t stupid. The fire was a good idea. He could light it if he saw a ship on the horizon.

Brush was easy to find. Water was harder. He knew there had to be water somewhere. There were vegetation, insects, and sea birds on the island, and they needed water as much as he did. But he couldn’t find so much as a puddle. Maybe the water was underground. Should he start digging? But where? And with what?

He found a sturdy stick and started desultorily scratching at the thin soil with it. The medicine he had taken that morning on the ship had worn off, and his head throbbed as he toiled. The sun beat down on his unprotected neck as he wiped sweat from his good eye.

He soon gave up on digging for water. It was too much effort for an unlikely payoff. He rested in the shade of a squat bush at the highest point of the island, looking out for a passing ship on the wide ocean. He could see another island in the far distance. He wondered if that island had water, and if he could swim there. He was a strong swimmer, but probably not that strong. It had to be miles away.

The sun began its descent, painting the sky pink and gold, then shifting to red and purple, like a bruise. With the soft sound of the waves all around, Zuko could almost pretend that he was watching another sunset back on Ember Island. If he let himself close his eyes, he might be able to imagine that his family, that Mother and Uncle and Lu Ten and Azula, were just inside the beach house, waiting for him to come in and have dinner with them.

He kept his eyes open and stubbornly trained on the horizon until the light faded entirely.

Zuko drank the last mouthful of water from the canteen the next morning. He had done his best to ration it, but it was never going to be enough.

He circled the island twice more, keeping half his attention on the search for water and half on the horizon for a ship. He found neither.

He retreated to his lookout during the heat of the day in a feeble attempt to conserve his strength. The pounding headache that had been toying with him since he woke had finally sunk its teeth deep behind his eyes, but he didn’t dare go to sleep in case he missed seeing a ship. His skin felt tight and hot. He was just sunburned, he hoped. It wouldn’t be pretty if he was spiking a fever again. When he stood to stretch and get his blood flowing so he wouldn’t doze off, his vision grayed dangerously and he had to brace himself on a spindly tree against the sudden light-headedness that swept over him. His legs trembled as he forced himself to pace a bit after the head rush had abated.

The hardest thing, though, was the worsening dryness of his throat and mouth. His tongue felt swollen, and each breath seemed to scrape against his throat. The thirst was maddening. No matter how hard he tried, nothing could take his mind off of it. And the longer he thought about it, the worse it seemed to get.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. He decided he would light the signal fire in the morning, whether he saw a ship or not, and try to keep it burning through the day. But if the smoke had still not attracted a ship by sundown, then he would need to take matters into his own hands, hopefully before his hands grew too weak to hold the knife.

The calls of the sea ravens seemed much too loud in his good ear, driving a spike of pain into his throbbing head with each shrill cry. Zuko glared at them swooping overhead. If he could fly, he certainly wouldn’t be crying about it. He would fly away from this wretched rock and never come back. He would be free to go wherever he wanted. He could soar all over the world to find the Avatar. To find his mother. He would never come back down to earth again, if he could fly. Azula wouldn’t taunt him anymore; she would be jealous of him. His father wouldn’t scorn him, he’d approve of him. These stupid birds would never dare mock him with their stupid cawing. They would fly far away from him if they knew what was good for them. They would fly…

…All to the same place, over and over again, winging out and returning to and fro. Where were they all going?

Zuko dragged himself to the edge of the bluff that made up the eastern end of the island and looked down. There was an opening halfway up the cliff face that the birds were entering and exiting. Was it a nest? But it seemed bigger than just a sea raven nest. A cave?

Without really thinking too hard about it, Zuko lowered himself over the edge of the cliff, carefully searching out footholds. If there was a cave down there, then he had to check it out. The birds kept returning there. Perhaps that’s where the water was.

Zuko had been rock climbing many times before. There were plenty of good places to do it around the caldera. But he had never done it without a line, nor with one eye and ear completely covered, after almost a day without water. The muscles in his hands and arms were on fire almost immediately after he heaved himself over the edge of the cliff. Sweat ran into his eyes and along his palms as he carefully searched out handholds. He took it slow, despite his cramping calves. He focused on keeping his breaths even and ignoring the waves crashing against the rock far below him. The sun had dipped below the other side of the island and was rapidly sinking below the horizon, casting Zuko in shadow and making it hard to see the potential holds.

After an eternity, his feet hit air instead of rock. He lowered himself a bit further using just his arms, so he was hanging over the lip of the cave, then he swung himself inside and let go.

He landed hard on his back, driving the last of the air from his lungs. There was an almighty ruckus as the startled sea ravens shrieked and took wing to flee the intruder, leaving Zuko alone on the floor, trying to catch his breath, his whole body trembling. It took him several long minutes to move, even longer to finally get himself up off the floor.

The cave wasn’t high, but it was wide and deep. And at the very back, far from the sea winds and sun that would have evaporated it in minutes, was a thin trickle of water that ran down the rock wall.

Zuko put his mouth to the stone and nearly cried with relief at the touch of damp on his chapped lips. It took several minutes of practically licking the rock before he finally began to feel his thirst abate.

By the time he felt more like a live person and not just a dried-out husk, the sun had fully set, and the only illumination in the cave was from the waxing gibbous moon. Exhausted, Zuko stumbled to a sandy area of the cave and collapsed, grateful for the soft sand which made a much more comfortable bed than the stony lookout had been last night.

There was a large, oblong stone near the center of the sand bed that was so smooth that it felt almost soft to the touch. Zuko lay his head on it to keep his bandage out of the sand. He only had the one bandage—he needed to keep it clean as long as possible. The cool surface of the stone drew out the heat from his sunburned face and soothed his throbbing head a little.

Zuko dozed, or perhaps he slept. It was hard to tell sometimes, his dreams were so strange that night. He saw each of his family members appear one by one from the depths of the cave and walk past him to the cave entrance, not even stopping before stepping into thin air. But they didn’t fall, they just kept going, walking away across the moonbeams and leaving him there. Fire Lord Azulon did not look at Zuko as he passed, but when Father came, he scowled down at him.

“Pathetic,” he sneered. “My firstborn son grubbing in the dirt underground like a filthy earthbender. Will you start going barefoot everywhere too?” Zuko bowed his head, ashamed of his disheveled appearance in front of his honored father and grandfather. “Stay in this hole, for all I care. You are unworthy of this family. I should never have given in to your mother when she begged me to spare you.” The apparition sounded so like his father that Zuko almost apologized to it.

His uncle came next. “Prince Zuko. Why are you here in this cold, dark cave? If you look for the light you can often find it. If you look for the dark, that is all you will ever see.” He beckoned to Zuko as he walked toward the cliff, but Zuko was confused, as he usually was when his uncle spoke in proverbs. He wanted to call out to Uncle to wait for him, but his tongue didn’t seem to be working. Iroh looked at him sadly as he stepped into the air. “You can’t always see the light at the end of the tunnel, my nephew, but if you just keep moving, you will come to a better place.”

“Hey, dum-dum.” His sister’s voice echoed in the cave. “Let’s play a game. I dare you to follow me right off the edge of the cliff.” Azula’s games were always like this; Zuko had always hated them. “It’ll all be fine, Zuzu—cross my heart and hope to die.” Her smile was all teeth as she left him behind.

“Hi little cousin,” Lu Ten said as he emerged from the shadows. He held up two fingers in a sign of goodwill to greet him, just as he always did. The gesture brought a lump to Zuko’s throat. He had missed the older cousin he had always admired, but his grief for Lu Ten had been eclipsed by everything that had followed his death. “It’s been a long time. I have so much to tell you, so many stories from the war.” He smiled at Zuko. “I suppose they’ll have to wait until we both come home.” And then he was gone too.

“Zuko…” Zuko squeezed his eyes shut against the tears that threatened. He knew she was coming, and he knew just as well that it would hurt to see her again.

“Zuko, my love, listen to me,” his mother said, and Zuko couldn’t stop himself from opening his eyes to look at her, a sight he’d longed for for years. She was just as he remembered, with her long, soft hair and sorrowful amber eyes. It was as though no time had passed since he had last seen her, though it had been more than two years since she had gone. Zuko blinked back his tears. He had missed her so much.

“Everything I’ve done, I’ve done to protect you,” Mother told him, and Zuko felt a pang deep in his chest. He knew that her disappearance had something to do with him, knew that it was his fault she was gone. He had spent days praying to any spirit that might listen, promising he would be better, do better, if only his mother would return, but they did not answer. “Remember this, Zuko. No matter how things may seem to change, never forget who you are—someone who keeps fighting even though it’s hard.” Mother stepped off the cliff, leaving again. Zuko reached out after her, but still she turned away.

Zuko thought that Mother would be the last to appear, so he startled when he heard another voice—one he did not recognize.

“I hear that you’ve been looking for me,” said the man that stepped forth. Zuko didn’t understand. He was an old man dressed in robes, with a long white beard and hair tied in a topknot. His face was lined with age and care. Zuko was sure he had never seen him before, so how could he be looking for him?

As though he had heard Zuko’s thoughts, the man said, “I have mastered the elements a thousand times in a thousand lifetimes. Now, I must do it once again.”

The Avatar. This was the Avatar. Zuko knew that the Avatar must be an old man and a coward. No one had seen him in over a century. But why did he say that he must master the elements again? He must surely be fully realized by now. It was too bad that Zuko had found the Avatar so early, when he had not even completed his firebending training yet, let alone his study of the weaknesses of the other elements.

“Do not be too hard on yourself,” the Avatar told him. “You will master firebending, as I did.”

Okay, so the Avatar had mastered fire, in addition to his native air? Zuko was confused.

“Some conflicts are so strong, they can transcend lifetimes, my child.” The old man looked at him gravely. “I am sorry that you must carry this burden that spans generations.”

Zuko bared his teeth. If he was so sorry, he should turn himself in! He should help the Fire Nation bring civilization to the world! He shouldn’t be such a coward that he abandoned his honor and hid from his duty for a hundred years!

“I am not the only one hiding, young man. Allow your true self to prevail over what others would try to force you to be. Only then will you find inner peace.”

Zuko snorted. The guy was as bad as Uncle. Zuko caught a glimpse of the Avatar’s smile as he turned and walked away.

A loud growl sounded from the depths of the cave, and Zuko’s heart raced with a thrill of fear. He took in a breath and braced himself to face whatever was left in the cave with him.

A dragon stalked out of the darkness, huge and red. It glared right at Zuko, who tried to jump up to face this threat, but couldn’t make his limbs move any more than his tongue. He lay frozen as the dragon approached, closer and closer, far nearer than Zuko was comfortable being to the great beast.

He expected it to attack. Instead, it reached out with a whisker and touched his forehead.

Zuko was suddenly flooded with an indescribable sensation. It was tranquility and activity all at once. It was frothing and flowing, intense and peaceful, ardor and amity. It was too much and not enough. Zuko cringed away, but even after the dragon withdrew and flew away into the night, the warring feelings remained. Zuko felt like he had been split apart. He was at once both trapped in and falling out of his body. He gasped and moaned, not sure what to do to make it stop.

The smooth stone under his head was throbbing rhythmically, as though with a slow pulse. Zuko curled around it, trying to anchor himself. He forced himself to breathe in time with the pulse of the stone. But the stone’s cadence was too slow, and he couldn’t make his breathing match. It was cold to the touch, chilled in the dark of the cave. Zuko, not really thinking, called forth his inner flame, raising his body temperature and funneling heat into the stone wherever he touched it. The stone warmed, its pulse quickening. It became easier to breathe to the rhythm it set. Zuko concentrated on breathing warmth and listening to the beat for a long time.

Gradually, the conflicting feelings settled. When Zuko felt like he could open his eyes again without the world spinning out of control, he only saw the deep, dark shadows of the cave. It was night, and he was alone, just like before. No one else was there, of course. Of course they weren’t.

Zuko drifted off to sleep again, wrapped around the warming stone.

Zuko discovered that the cave faced due east the next morning, when the first ray of the rising sun to crest the horizon struck him full in the face. He groaned, sitting up to rub at his eye, then blinked, frowning at his surroundings, for a moment not sure where he was. The cave. On the island. Marooned, he remembered suddenly. He had been dreaming, but he couldn’t quite remember what about. He thought Mother had been in the dream. He wasn’t surprised. He often dreamed of her.

The oblong stone was still warm from his body heat. It was pleasant to touch. Zuko looked out toward the sun rising over the sea. After the initial rude awakening, it was nice to feel the light on his skin. Peaceful even.

Zuko settled in a seated pose, his shins and knees pressed against the stone in front of him. He closed his eyes and let the warm stone ground him, the sound of the waves calm him, and the light lead him. He took a deep breath and slipped into true meditation for the first time since he had been burned.

It was nice. He wasn’t able to push away the throbbing pain of his burn or the rough dryness of his throat for very long, but the moment of stillness he was able to find was good while it lasted. There was no one here to continue his firebending training, but perhaps he could keep up his meditation practice, even marooned.

He drank from the trickling stream again, and as soon as his thirst was slaked, his hunger came roaring forth. He hadn’t eaten in two days, and his stomach was finally in a position to remind him of that fact.

The first challenge was getting out of the cave. Zuko realized that he was very fortunate there was a source of water in the cave, or he would not have had the strength to climb out again. He probably should have thought of that before going down there in the first place. Uncle told him once that he needed to think things through better, and this is probably what he meant. Zuko climbed down instead of back up, letting himself down slowly into the waves and paddling to an inlet where he could get back to shore.

The next challenge was finding food. Zuko had never hunted or fished, nor foraged. He had read both the army and the navy’s survival handbooks, but never had cause to put the strategies therein to use. He did his best, but at the end of the day, he had collected only a couple seabird eggs, and managed to pry some mussels from the rocks along the water’s edge. He was almost hungrier at the end of the day than he’d been at the beginning. The refreshed feeling he'd had after sleep and meditation was long gone, and his whole body was tired and aching again. His head was still pounding. More than food even, he wished he had some medicine to bring the pain from his burn down.

He kept looking to the horizon throughout the day, watching for a ship. He might have been a more effective hunter if he kept his attention on the task at hand, but he was anxious to get off this rock and back to his quest to find the Avatar.

When Zuko finally crawled back down the cliff to the cave in the evening, he only had energy left to drink as much water as he could hold and then prop the canteen against the wall under the trickle in hopes that it would collect a little water that he could carry with him tomorrow.

The stone was still there, and still a little warm. He had heard that rocks could hold heat for a long time, but this seemed like a very long time. Still, it was the least uncomfortable spot to sleep on this whole island, so he curled around the stone again and before drifting off, called forth his inner flame to warm the stone as well.

If the stone was pulsing again in his dreams, he didn’t remember by the time he sat down to try meditating again in the morning.

The days passed much the same. He woke at daybreak. Meditated more or less successfully. Drank his fill of water and retrieved his full canteen. Scavenged for anything edible he could find. Watched the sea for a ship. Climbed back into the cave at sunset. Curled up in the sand with his favorite rock to get some fitful sleep, as much as the constant pain and hunger would allow.

He was getting a little better at finding food, but he was not achieving success as quickly as he had hoped. He wasn’t surprised exactly—Zuko had always been a slow learner; Father was constantly disappointed in his progress in his studies. He thought of the constant ache of his hollow stomach as motivation for him to do better, like a rap across his hands from one of his tutors. But no matter how much he berated himself like his firebending masters had, he only seemed to be getting weaker. He could push past this, just like he had when he made himself get up out of bed only a day after the Agni Kai. That had hurt far more than hunger, so he didn’t know why he was such a weakling now.

He tried to conserve his energy when he could. He only used firebending to cook the scraps of rodent meat he was able to catch. He mostly ate anything else he was able to find raw. He was sure the small fish, mussels and insects he scrounged would be better cooked, but he was just so tired all the time, and he didn’t want to make it worse by summoning a flame unnecessarily.

He did keep using his bending to warm the stone in the cave though. It got chilly at night, just uncomfortable enough that Zuko couldn’t really get to sleep unless he shared his inner fire to warm the rock and curled around it. It was perfect for reflecting warmth back to him, almost like it had a heat of its own.

It had been days, maybe a week, since he’d been marooned, and Zuko was feeling worse than ever. He was no longer feeling hungry. Actually, he was a bit nauseous, if anything. His thoughts were slow, like his head had been stuffed full of cotton. He had felt uncomfortably warm all day, but when he returned to the cave at night, the cool air underground raised goosebumps on his arms, and he shivered hard.

He dropped into his little nest in the sand and curled around the stone, warming it perhaps a bit more than he usually did to combat the chill. He wished he had a blanket to trap the heat next to his skin, even though he was still sweating.

Zuko may be slow, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew that he must have a fever. He carefully removed the old bandage from his face and set it aside. It was clearly the worse for wear, torn and stained with sweat and dirt. No wonder he was ill now.

Zuko hissed as his burn was exposed to the stinging cold air. The skin on his face felt tight and hot. When he reached up to prod at the edge of the wound with his fingers, it seemed warmer and more swollen than it should be. Zuko didn’t put the bandage back on. If it was infected, the old, dirty bandage would be no help.

There was nothing he could do. He had no medicine to ease him, no food to fortify him, no blanket to comfort him. He could only rest and hope the fever did not get too bad.

So he dozed, too chilled to really sleep, even with the welcome warmth from the stone. The full moon shone full on him through the mouth of the cave as it rose, reflecting Agni’s light, letting Zuko keep his inner flame steady, even as his face and head throbbed and his body ached from shivering.

It was deep in the night when Zuko slowly became aware of a sensation, like scratching, coming from the stone beneath his head. He absently ran a hand over the warm, smooth surface, up and down, as his mother had over his back to soothe him when he was small.

The scritching only became louder and more urgent, and then there was something like a soft thump.

Zuko reluctantly raised his head, looking around for the source of the vibrations. The full moon was still shining brightly, and he could see clearly that there was nothing else in the cave. He lay back down, still stroking the stone absently.

And then there came a loud crack.

Zuko shot up, the sudden change in position making his woozy head swim. He looked down at the stone beneath him. Had that sound come from it?

At first glance, the stone looked no different, but upon closer examination, Zuko found a chip that had flaked off the end of the oblong form. He turned the thin flake of stone over in his hand, wondering why it would suddenly break like that. His head couldn’t be that heavy…

There was another little noise, and another chip fell from the stone right before Zuko’s eyes. Zuko tilted his head to look more closely at the end of the stone that was suddenly broken. It was hard to tell in the moonlight, but it looked like there was something dark sticking out a little bit from the shallow divot the chips had left.

Zuko thought he could hear that scratching noise again, and acting on a hunch, he lowered his head to rest his good ear on the stone once more. He could definitely hear the scratching louder now. And did the stone just twitch…?

With his ear pressed to the stone, Zuko heard the next crunch resound from within it.

Among the little bits of stone that had broken outward, as though pushed from within, there was definitely something poking out of the much larger hole. It looked almost wet. And it appeared to be breathing.

Zuko watched, shivering with fever and wide-eyed with awe, as the cracks spread wider and the thing pushed out farther, revealing itself to be a tiny nose. As the sky lightened with the approaching morn, the snout was followed by a head, which preceded a long, snaky neck. A leg freed itself, then another, and—was that a wing? Was this really happening, or had his fever climbed so high that he was now hallucinating?

As the first ray of the sun crested the horizon, the creature finally slithered fully from its egg, flopping and flailing onto the sand. Agni’s light shimmered in the dampness left on its red scales and on its crumpled, furled wings. It looked at Zuko, and Zuko met its golden, slit-pupiled eyes, amazed.

The baby dragon made a sound like a chirp. Zuko, not sure what else to do, put out a hand to it. The infant surged forward on wobbly legs and put its nose right into his palm.

“Oh!” Zuko’s uncertainty about this being reality was dispelled at feeling the scaly snout sniffing all over his hand. He swallowed around the lump suddenly in his throat.

The hatchling soon finished its inspection of his hand and immediately climbed right into Zuko’s lap, settling itself across his thighs. He tentatively brought his hand up to stroke the top of the little dragon’s head. It chirped again and closed its eyes, leaning into his touch.

Zuko’s vision blurred as tears welled in his eyes. A dragon. Maybe the last dragon in the world, and he had just witnessed its birth. Agni had showed him a miracle.

Zuko slipped into meditation, calling forth his flame to thank Agni for the life of the little one that he continued to slowly stroke in the light of the dawn.

Chapter Text

Aang was in a good mood, and it was only lifting the closer they drew to the Southern Air Temple. Finally, he was going home.

Granted, to him, it felt like only a few days since he’d been there last, but apparently a hundred years had passed since he got caught in that storm. Imagine, a hundred years in a block of ice! Crazy!

Katara kept trying to tell him that things might be different at his home now, but Aang didn’t want to think about that. The Water Tribe siblings said there was a war that had been going on for a hundred years, that the Fire Nation was everyone’s enemy, and that the airbenders had gone extinct, but maybe they were wrong. He’d been to the Fire Nation many times; he had friends there! They weren’t bad people. And there was no way that there were no more airbenders. They were probably just in hiding. Airbenders were better at hiding than most people think because they could get to places no one else could with their ability to fly. They couldn’t just be gone. That would mean the world was completely out of balance. And Aang didn’t want to think about the implications of that.

As it turned out, the Southern Air Temple was empty. Okay, a bit disappointing, but not too surprising. The airbenders would hardly be hiding if they just stayed in a place widely known to be theirs. He’d find them eventually; it was just going to take a little longer than he thought, that’s all.

So if the Air Temple really was empty, why did Aang feel like they were being watched?

The feeling of someone watching persisted throughout his and Sokka’s short-lived game of airball, and when Aang was unable to shake it off, he suggested they move inside and explore the temple.

Aang felt a complicated mix of emotions when he saw the statue of Monk Gyatso. He felt like his heart was being squeezed with fondness, nostalgia, grief, and…even a little shame. He knew that Gyatso was dead. His teacher had been an old man a hundred years ago. He must have passed away a long time ago.

Aang had left without saying goodbye to him. He’d left. And everything had changed.

It was time to meet whoever awaited him in the sanctuary.

Aang was a little surprised to realize that the person in the sanctuary was…himself? His past lives, at least, even though he didn’t know any of their names except Avatar Roku. And how did he know that anyway?

Sokka was right, it was weird. Aang wasn’t sure what to think about it. Maybe he didn’t want to think about this either.

Good thing he had a new friend to capture to take his mind off it!

Racing Sokka to catch the lemur was exhilarating and fun, and had the added bonus of being an excellent distraction from his thoughts. This little lemur was pretty good at evasion!

Aang rounded another corner and came to a screeching halt.

There was a dragon standing before him, looking right at him with an unnerving golden gaze.

And there was a lemur tail dangling from its mouth.

“Hey! Spit him out! That’s my pet!”

Aang heard footsteps pounding up behind him, Sokka panting as he caught up.

“Aww, a dragon got my dinner!” Sokka whined. Then he did a double take. “A dragon?!”

“No one is eating my new lemur friend!” Aang insisted, holding out each hand in the universal symbol for stop towards Sokka and the dragon. “C’mon, little guy, please let him go!”

“Little??” Sokka choked out.

“Well, yeah, for a dragon. He’s only about fifty feet long. Probably only a few years old.”

“Oh, sure, only fifty feet!”

Aang decided it would be best to just ignore Sokka’s muttering for now. “We’ll find you something else to eat, okay, buddy? Just put. The lemur. Down.”

“Something else to eat? What, like one of us? Because I think we’re the only other things around here that a dragon would be interested in eating, Aang!” Aang was ignoring Sokka.

Aang started to inch forward. He didn’t want to startle it so that it accidently swallowed or something. The dragon didn’t move, and it didn’t take its eyes off him. “That’s it, easy now,” he cooed. “Just give me the lemur, and we can all be friends.” Aang stretched out his hand…

…Only to snatch it back and jump away when a jet of flame surged between him and the dragon. Oh no! Did it fry his lemur? But wait, the flame hadn’t come from the dragon, it came from—

“Get away from him!”

There was a boy suddenly standing between him and the dragon, one fist punched forward and the other drawn back and ready. His golden eyes glared at Aang in a striking similarity to the beast behind him.

“Firebender!” Sokka squawked, just as Katara ran up to them. “Aang, let’s get out of here!”

“I just want the lemur, then we’ll go,” Aang told both Sokka and the boy.

“Aang, we need to go!” There was a definite note of fear in Katara’s voice. “Please!”

Aang stiffened. He’d forgotten—Katara’s mother was killed by a firebender. There was a war on with the Fire Nation. Maybe it would be best to run. He took a step back, biting his lip. But the poor lemur…

The firebender glanced back at the dragon, then looked at Aang hesitating. Then he sighed and dropped out of his bending stance. Aang watched, disconcerted, as the boy simply reached up and tugged at the beard on the dragon’s chin, and the dragon allowed the boy to pull its head down to eye level. The boy looked the dragon in the eye and then firmly patted its jaw. His meaning couldn’t have been clearer—open up.

The dragon whined and looked at the boy with an expression that would not be out of place on a bison calf begging for treats, but the boy only rolled his eyes, then grasped the dragon’s two elongated fangs and pried its jaws open. Aang and his friends watched, mouths agape, as the boy reached his whole arm past razor-sharp teeth into the beast’s maw. Moments later, he withdrew a wet ball of black and white fur.

“Here,” he said, tossing the ball to Aang. Aang, surprised, nearly fumbled the lemur, still slick with dragon spit, but managed not to drop it. The lemur immediately latched onto his torso and held on with all its might, trembling.

“You don’t need to leave,” the boy said, voice a bit raspy and hoarse, like maybe he hadn't spoken in a while. “We’ll be on our way now.”

He turned away, leaving the three friends flabbergasted. He had grasped the dragon’s mane, about to mount up, when Aang finally managed to shake off his shock.

“Wait!” The boy looked at him, but didn’t let go of the mane. “You’re leaving?”

“This place is yours,” the boy said. “You have far more right to be here than we do. Sorry for trespassing, but I didn’t think any airbenders would be coming back here.”

“You were the one I felt watching us,” Aang realized. The boy nodded. Aang gave him a tentative smile. “Well, won’t you stay for a while?”

“Aang!” Sokka hissed. Aang was still ignoring him.

The boy definitely heard though, because he looked over at Sokka and Katara. Aang followed his gaze. Sokka’s expression was all fear that he was badly concealing with a glare. Katara was wide-eyed and pale.

“I wouldn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable,” the boy said. He sounded more than a little uncomfortable himself.

Aang kept up what he hoped was a welcoming smile. “If this place is mine, then I can invite anyone I want to stay here with me. Consider this a formal invitation. As thanks for saving my lemur friend.” The lemur in question chittered angrily.

The dragon finally made the decision for the boy by shaking its neck, dislodging his grip in its mane and raising its head above the boy’s reach. The boy huffed at it, but it only tilted its head in a gesture that looked like curiosity to Aang.

The boy still looked uncertain, but he turned to Aang and gave a formal bow, hands together in the sign of respect common in the Fire Nation. “I accept your invitation.”

“Great!” Aang said over Sokka’s groan. “My name’s Aang. Pleased to meet you!”

“Zuko. And this is Druk. The pleasure is ours.”

“Hey, you’re a firebender, right? We just found this cool statue in the sanctuary, and we’re trying to figure out more about it. Maybe you’ll know more! C’mon!”

Aang grabbed Sokka and Katara’s hands and strode off, leaving Zuko to follow them.

“Aang! What are you doing!” Sokka hissed. “He’s a firebender! You can’t trust him!”

“I think it’s okay, Sokka,” Aang whispered. “He saved the lemur. And he was being respectful about not trespassing in the temple. He was going to leave without hurting anyone.”

“Yeah, he was leaving—so he could go get all his firebending friends to take us down!”

“He has a dragon. Pretty sure he wouldn’t need other firebenders to defeat us.”

“Oh, very reassuring. And that’s another thing—where did he get the dragon? I thought they were supposed to be extinct!”

Aang glanced at Sokka, surprised. “Really? They definitely weren’t extinct a hundred years ago.”

“The Fire Nation hunted the dragons to extinction during the war,” Katara said in low, flat voice. “They killed them. Just like they kill everything.”

Aang turned to look at Katara. She was still very pale. Aang could feel her hand shaking in his, even through her mitten.

“Well,” Aang started slowly, “it must be a good sign that he has a dragon. If he’s hiding a dragon from the Fire Nation, then maybe that means that he doesn’t agree with what they’re doing.”

Katara looked at him, worry in her beautiful blue eyes. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Aang. We don’t know anything about this guy, but I think we can safely assume that he’s dangerous.”

Aang swallowed. “I have a good feeling about him. Can you give him a chance?”

Katara looked back at him a moment, then slowly nodded. Sokka scoffed.

“Well, glad we’re risking all our lives on a kid’s hunch. Whatever. I will be watching that guy like an eagle hawk. He better not try anything.”

Or what? Aang wondered, but said nothing to his friend.

“This is amazing. There are so many of them.” Their new friend seemed to relax a bit once he entered the sanctuary and had something else to focus on.

“Zuko, here!” Aang called him over. “Do you know this one?”

“Avatar Roku,” he said immediately. “The last known Avatar.”

Aang winced, hearing him put it like that. “Do you know anything about him?”

“He was Fire Nation, of course,” he said. “I don’t remember much. He knew Fire Lord Sozin, I think.” Aang’s heart sank. Could it be that his previous life had been friends with someone that started a worldwide war? Zuko glanced at him and hurried on. “But that’s probably not surprising. The Avatar’s work often brings them in contact with government leaders. To negotiate peace.”

Aang appreciated Zuko trying to soften the blow, awkward as he was at it, but Aang had to know the truth. “Do you know anything about how he…how he died?”

“There was an enormous volcanic eruption on his home island. He died trying to save the village from it.” Zuko glanced at Aang, the light reflecting off his eyes oddly for a moment. “At least, that’s what I remember from reading about it.”

Something about Zuko’s explanation felt false to Aang, like there was more to it than that. Aang shook it off. He was pretty sure Zuko wasn’t lying, just maybe didn’t have all the facts.

“This is Avatar Kyoshi, the Avatar before Roku,” Zuko said, moving to the statue next to Roku. “She lived over two hundred years. I don’t remember the name of the Avatar before her, but the one before him is Avatar Yangchen, the last Avatar from the Air Nomads. Well, that we know of.”

That last comment made Aang squirm a bit. Sokka was tense as a kite string, glaring suspiciously at the strange boy. “How do you know all that?”

Zuko shrugged without looking at him. “The basic history of the Avatar is a standard part of the curriculum in the Fire Nation.”

Aang looked away from where Sokka was mouthing curriculum with a look on his face like the word had given him a bad taste and turned his attention to Zuko, who was slowly moving along the spiral curve of Avatars past, examining the statues with interest.

He looked like he was about Sokka’s age, only probably a little older because he was a little taller and definitely had more muscle. His clothes were…interesting, in that they didn’t seem to follow the regular style for the Fire Nation. Maybe the style had changed in the last hundred years? But it really just looked like he cobbled together whatever clothes he came across first that would fit. They’re a mix of mostly dark colors, not all red, and were threadbare and travel-worn.

His hair was roughly cut but still fell in his eyes a little. He wasn’t wearing a topknot. Aang wondered why. Topknots had a cultural meaning in the Fire Nation; he didn’t think that style would change, even after a hundred years.

But all this about the boy’s appearance was something that Aang took in later, because Zuko’s main feature was a huge scar covering most of the left side of his face, stretching over his eye and ear. His left eyelid was narrowed in a permanent squint because of the disfigurement, but the eye itself was still a clear gold and alert, so Aang thought that he could probably still see fine. Which was frankly a miracle, because it must have been a really bad burn. Aang was full of curiosity about how he got the scar, but it was probably rude to ask. Maybe a training accident? How careful were dragons with their flame?

The other boy may have noticed Aang staring at him, because he started talking again, trying for some stilted conversation. “This place is fascinating. I knew this room was here, but when I couldn’t open the door, I figured I should leave it alone.”

Aang blinked. “You’ve been here, at the Southern Air Temple, before?”

Zuko nodded. “Druk and I prefer places far away from people.” Then he realized that what he said might be rude and stumbled over his words trying to explain. “Sorry, I mean, we’re just safer if not too many people see us. Not that we—don’t—want you near us. And we didn’t mean to trespass here.”

“That’s okay,” Aang said. “Do you travel a lot? Where have you been?” Maybe Zuko knew a good place to go next. Aang really wanted to ride the hopping llamas, but he’d be up for anything new.

“I guess we have, over the past year. There are plenty of areas in the Earth Kingdom that are still pretty remote. And…we’ve been to the Western and Eastern Air Temples too.”

“Really?” Aang’s excitement suddenly dropped when he remembered. “I guess those are uninhabited too then, huh?” Zuko nodded. “What about the Northern Air Temple?”

“Haven’t been there. There are people living there.” When he saw Aang’s eyes grow wide, he hastened on. “Not airbenders though. At least, not as far as I could tell.”

“Oh.” Aang sagged, a little crestfallen. “So, are you traveling because you’re, like, on a mission or something? Where were you before you came here?”

“No mission, besides Druk needing to stretch his wings. We were at the South Pole before we headed up here.”

All Aang had time to do was blink before Sokka was in Zuko’s face. “What were you doing at the South Pole? Pillaging villages? Burning down homes? Ravaging my people? Huh? Answer me!”

“Sokka!” Aang grabbed the back of his anorak and tried to tug him away from the other boy, but Sokka just sprang right back into place like a glider’s fan tail. To Zuko’s credit, he didn’t back away from Sokka’s confrontation, nor did he meet Sokka’s anger with his own, instead speaking calmly.

“We were only exploring the ice plains. We never even got within five leagues of a village. We go to places where we can avoid human attention, and there are lots of places in the South Pole that are uninhabited.”

“Yeah, and whose fault is that?” Sokka growled. “The Fire Nation has been raiding our villages for decades, that’s why it’s so uninhabited!”

Zuko’s brow drew down as he frowned. “…I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m sorry that happened, but I didn’t have any part in that.”

“You’re still a firebender—an ashmaker, just like the people who killed our mother.” And before Aang could react to stop him, Sokka threw a punch at Zuko.

In the blink of an eye, Zuko had caught Sokka’s fist, twisted his arm behind him and pushed him up face-first against the statue of an Earth Kingdom Avatar.

“Enough!” Aang shouted, and bent a ball of air between Zuko and Sokka, expanding it to push them away from each other. Zuko managed to keep his feet, but Sokka fell hard on his rear. An echoing silence ensued in which Aang just wasn’t sure what to say. He knew that Sokka’s people were fighting against the Fire Nation in a war, but…he hadn’t realized he hated firebenders so much. How could he attack Zuko like that when he hadn’t offered them any harm?

“Maybe Zuko and I should go start dinner,” Katara said quietly, breaking the tense silence. “You two can stay in here for a while and…cool off.”

Aang expected another outburst from Sokka about Katara not being alone with Zuko, given how protective he was over her, but to his relief, he just looked away from all of them.

“Okay,” Aang said. “Okay, that sounds like a good idea. Thanks, Katara. Thanks, Zuko.”

The two left the sanctuary without a word, the lemur scampering after them. Aang knelt down beside Sokka. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No.”

“Did he hurt you when he—”

“No.”

“Okay. That’s—that’s good.”

Sokka sighed. “Pretty sure I won’t even have bruises. He knew what he was doing. Unlike me.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty fast.”

“Yeah.”

“I think you might owe him an apology.”

“Hey, he’s the one who pinned me to the wall.”

“It wasn’t a wall, it was a statue, and he only did that because you tried to hit him.”

Sokka sighed again. “Okay, you’re right. I admit that this time the Fire Nation was not the instigator of the conflict. I’ll…apologize.” Sokka said apologize like the word had personally offended him and his whole family. Aang smiled at him.

“I know that you and Katara have a lot of bad history with the Fire Nation. I’m sorry you both had to go through that. But Zuko isn’t responsible for the decisions—or actions—that hurt you. He’s just a kid, like us.”

Sokka threw his head back and groaned. “All right, all right! I’ll make nice with the mysterious, dragon-wrangling firebender.” Sokka made a face at the thought. Aang just beamed. He was sure that Sokka and Katara would come around. He had a good feeling about Zuko, and his good feelings were almost always right.

After all, Aang was the Avatar. He was probably supposed to listen to his instincts about these things. Maybe he was just a kid, but Zuko was just a teenager. How dangerous could he be?

Chapter Text

Zuko’s day went downhill quickly after witnessing the miracle that was the baby dragon hatching. His fever spiked again, leaving him lying in the sand in the cave with barely enough energy to move. The hatchling stayed close to him, curled up on top of his belly or against his chest, tiny claws catching in his shirt. Zuko managed to get up once to retrieve his canteen and show the baby where the water was, but it didn’t seem interested in drinking unless it was licking water off Zuko’s fingers.

It was a curious little thing, sticking its whiskery nose beneath Zuko’s shirt, under his armpits, even into his mouth. It batted at Zuko’s phoenix tail and rubbed itself all over the short fuzz that was starting to grow on Zuko’s scalp now that he no longer had a mirror or razor to shave it. Zuko found he didn’t mind, even though it tickled a little; it gave him something to focus on besides his own pain.

The fever finally broke that evening, leaving Zuko wrecked, sweaty and exhausted. He fell into a fitful sleep carefully holding the infant against his core, sharing the heat of his inner flame as the temperature dropped in the night.

The next morning, Zuko finally scrambled out of the cave, the little dragon’s noodly body wrapped around his shoulders. He bathed the sweat from his body as best he could in the sea, even tried to rinse out his clothes. Then he very carefully washed the sand and albumen from the dragon’s scales, being especially gentle with the now unfurled wings. The little one wasn’t sure about the water at first, but seeing Zuko wash made it bolder and it soon took to playing in the tide pools.

The arduous hunt for food took up the rest of the day, as usual. Zuko kept the dragon on his shoulder so it could watch him while he worked. The baby would probably need to learn to hunt sooner rather than later, and though Zuko was a sub-par hunter, he was the only teacher the little one had.

He hadn’t eaten in almost two days, and hadn’t been eating much in the days leading up to his illness either. He could feel the lack in the heaviness of his limbs and the lightness of his head. Though he had been frustrated and grouchy before his illness, he found that he no longer had the energy for such emotions.

Though he could have eaten every scrap of sustenance he foraged that day and still been hungry, he made sure to offer the dragon everything he found first, only to grow more and more concerned as the baby showed no interest in eating. He tried eating a piece of fish while the hatchling watched him, thinking that perhaps he needed to demonstrate the process, but the little dragon just turned up its nose when he tried to offer it the next piece.

He repeated the process the next day, to a similar result. Zuko wondered if baby dragons were like turtle ducklings, which don’t need to eat for a few days after hatching because they still have some of the yolk inside them that they can live off of. He hoped that was the case, because if the hatchling couldn’t or wouldn’t eat what Zuko could get for it, he didn’t know what he’d do.

On the third day, Zuko was lucky enough to take down a toucan puffin with a well-aimed rock. He knew better than to try to eat it raw, so he built a small fire to cook the bird. The baby dragon was absolutely fascinated by the fire and sniffed curiously at the air when Zuko began to roast pieces of the bird. This time, when Zuko offered the hatchling a browned piece of the wing, it gingerly took the meat from Zuko’s hand and gulped it down. Zuko felt a weight lift from his chest that he had finally found something the dragon would eat. But when he offered it a piece of the bird that was still uncooked immediately after, the little thing turned up its nose at it again. Zuko was more than a little distressed by the dragon’s returned pickiness until he offered it another piece of cooked meat, which it happily devoured.

Of course. Dragons could breathe fire. They probably preferred cooked meat to raw. Though it had seemed very interested in Zuko’s flames, he hadn’t seen the little dragon breathe fire yet, or even make sparks. Zuko had no idea if that was normal for a dragon. Maybe it varied, like it did for humans. Zuko didn’t have the spark when he was a baby, but he had turned out to be a firebender after all. He assumed Azula did have the spark right away—at least, he thought that’s what Father had meant when he told him that Azula was born lucky, and Zuko was lucky to be born. Azula had made her first flame a year before Zuko managed it, even though she was more than a year younger than him. Granted, that may be a bad example because Zuko was a weak firebender, but the point was that people got their flame at different times. The baby dragon was three days old; Zuko couldn’t guess at when it would start breathing fire.

Though he hoped that it would start making its own flame soon. Zuko was gradually running out of energy as the days passed. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep both the hatchling and himself fed and warm with how bad he was at gathering food. Though he scrounged the island from sunrise to sunset, he was barely finding enough to keep them both alive. Though the little one wasn’t picky about what it ate, all its meals had to be cooked, and sustaining a fire with his bending was draining on him. The baby also didn’t seem to be very good at regulating its own body temperature. In the sunlight, it scampered about just fine, but at night in the cave, it stuck very close to Zuko and kneaded his hollow belly with its little claws until Zuko shared his flame to warm them both.

Though Zuko had very few resources, he gladly shared them with the hatchling. It was the only bright spot for him in days that had become very dark lately. He had been lonely, he realized, ever since he boarded his ship. Maybe even before then, ever since Mother left. Now, Zuko felt like he was rediscovering the world through the newborn’s eyes, every rock and wave made beautiful again by the infant’s innocent curiosity. Every reaction it had to the world around it made Zuko’s heart feel warm. It reminded him of how he had felt watching the turtle ducklings as a child in the palace gardens, only more, because there were many turtle ducks in the world, and only one dragon.

Zuko’s heart went out to the little orphan, likely the last of its kind. Since the time of his great-grandfather Fire Lord Sozin, dragons had been hunted, both for glory and profit, by Fire Nation nobility and poachers. But Zuko knew that it was not so long ago that some firebenders formed a bond of companionship with dragons. Even Fire Lord Sozin had a dragon mount, though he was also the one credited with starting the dragon hunts. It was causing Zuko a pretty massive case of cognitive dissonance to imagine that his great-grandfather could bond with a dragon and interact each day with such an amazing creature, and yet allow his nation to hunt the species to near extinction.

The baby dragon was precious to Zuko, and that it may be the last dragon in the world made it all the more important that he take good care of it. Agni had seen fit to entrust him with the care of the last dragon. Why, Zuko had no earthly idea. He had shown his shameful weakness and cowardice in the Agni Kai, before his father’s whole court and Agni themself. He had been disrespectful of his elders, and was no leader—the men the Fire Lord had entrusted him with had mutinied and deserted because Zuko was unable to keep them in line. And he had always been a slow learner and a poorer firebender. He was hardly a fit companion for a dragon, let alone a good caretaker for a hatchling.

Zuko asked himself what Agni could have been thinking when he had to choose between feeding the baby or feeding himself so he had energy to hunt another day, when he noticed the hatchling looked thinner than it had when it came out of the egg, when his efforts to show it how to make sparks bore no fruit, when he decided not to signal any ships he might see for fear that they would kill the dragon, and so gave up any hope of succor. The question kept him awake at night almost as much as the hunger pangs, stroking the little one curled up against his chest until, exhausted with worry, he fell into a fitful sleep. Surely anyone could perform this task better than him. Azula would excel at this, as she did at everything. Uncle would know exactly what to do, just like he always did. His father…

Father was the Fire Lord. He was obviously the most suited out of all of them to have a dragon companion and Agni’s favor.

Though this was only the truth, Zuko found himself unaccountably uncomfortable at the thought of his father anywhere near the baby dragon. When he imagined Father reaching out to touch the hatchling, he felt his heart speed and his breath become ragged.

It was so shameful, this ridiculous fear. He really was just the biggest coward.

Ten days passed. Zuko knew that it was ten days, though it felt much longer, because he had started scratching tally marks on the cave's wall with a stone so that he could know when the dragon’s birthday was. Maybe dragons didn’t celebrate birthdays, but Zuko wanted to know anyway. If both he and the dragon managed to make it an entire year, it would be cause for celebration indeed.

On the eleventh morning after the hatching, Zuko was startled awake by an unearthly roar reverberating through the cave.

He raised his head from the sand to look around, heart pounding. The hatchling had also been shocked awake and was hissing, back arched like a pygmy puma, claws digging into Zuko’s chest. Zuko reached up to stroke it, trying his poor best to soothe.

A shadow fell over the mouth of the cave. Zuko’s heart clenched in sudden fear as something big appeared at the entrance.

Silhouetted as it was by the rising sun behind it, it took Zuko a second to discern the powerful, bearded snout baring razor-sharp teeth, the long, gnarled horns, and the baleful, yellow eyes glaring right at him.

A dragon. Not a baby this time, but a fully grown, huge adult dragon had found them.

Zuko lay frozen on the ground, every muscle locked in place, too scared to even breathe. The little dragon on his chest had stopped hissing and had gone still and tense.

The adult dragon’s huge head drew closer, sliding into the cave’s entrance, headed right for Zuko and the hatchling. Zuko broke through the other side of his fear and finally moved. He clumsily scrambled away, but there was nowhere to run. As the dragon approached, Zuko finally curled up facedown with his hands over his head, knowing that nothing could save him. What did dragons do to intruders in their nest? Mauling was probably involved, being burned alive was also a strong possibility. His face ached with remembered pain. It had hurt badly enough when only his face was on fire; he did not want to know what it felt like over his whole body. He wished his imminent demise would be quick and as painless as possible, but he’d never been so lucky as that.

The baby was still clinging to him, burrowing desperately into the sand to hide underneath him. He could feel its little body quivering. Even afraid as he was, Zuko wished he could tell it that it had nothing to fear; its parent had returned and everything would be better now.

Zuko felt the dragon’s hot breath waft over him, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trembling to feel it so close. It smelled strangely of the headiest incense. Then he felt its snout nudging him, bumping up against his side and pushing, rolling him over. Zuko whimpered as it nosed at his exposed belly.

The hatchling refused to relinquish the front of Zuko’s shirt, so when the adult rolled Zuko over, it was unearthed from the sand. It tucked its little head under Zuko’s chin, still trying to hide, still shaking in fear. Zuko didn’t know if the little one was scared by the proximity of such a large, unknown creature or if it was picking up on Zuko’s fear, but he was powerless to soothe it.

Zuko summoned his fleeting courage and cracked his eyelids open. The dragon’s yellow eyes were still staring at him. Zuko was transfixed with terror. He couldn’t look away, caught in the great beast’s golden gaze. His heart was pounding like a rabbit squirrel’s. Slowly, carefully, he brought a hand up to cup the hatchling’s head in his palm, rubbing over its stubby horns in a feeble attempt at reassurance.

The adult made a rumbling noise in its throat, probably growling at Zuko for daring to touch its baby. Zuko’s hands shook as he cradled the little dragon.

Suddenly, the dragon’s huge maw flashed open and it lunged for Zuko, snapping him up whole between its jaws. Zuko cried out at the sight of those frightful fangs closing around him. He was certain it was going to swallow him whole, but what about the baby? It was still attached to his chest, digging in with its claws so hard that it was tearing into his skin and making squeaking noises Zuko had never heard it make before, clearly terrified.

The dragon did not swallow them down, but instead held them carefully in its mouth, its teeth like the bars of a cage around them. Its moist breath was hot on Zuko’s clammy skin. Zuko experienced a moment of vertigo, and then—

Then he looked out, past the teeth in a massive jaw that was slightly agape, and saw blue sky.

They were flying. For a moment, Zuko’s fear made way for wonder. When he gathered his courage to peek out between the dragon’s fangs, he saw clouds, and the sea far below them, dotted with islands. A cool wind rushed past, stealing the air from his lungs.

He turned to coaxing the little dragon clinging to him to look out. When it finally raised its head to see, it seemed fascinated, though it did not try to leave the cradle of Zuko’s arms. Both of them snapped to attention at the sight of a flash of red scales and wings just above them.

Another dragon? Well, Zuko supposed that making dragon babies must take two, as it did for humans.

Zuko felt simultaneously free as a feather on the wind and as though his heart was a stone weight in his chest. He couldn’t believe that this was happening. He had never dreamed that he might someday fly. The dragon parents might still eat him when they got wherever they were going, but it was a good last day, to see the world from so high up, as the dragons saw it.

They landed on what appeared to be a much larger island, ringed by mountains. There were a lot more trees and vegetation here, and perhaps more game as well, though Zuko couldn’t tell yet. It would make sense if there were, to feed three dragons. The dragon carrying them set them down as gently as anything in the tall grass. Zuko got to his feet, feeling a bit…damp from sitting in a dragon’s mouth, covered in saliva.

The second dragon landed just behind Zuko with a thump. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He was surrounded.

Zuko looked up at the blue dragon, the one that had carried them so gently in its jaws. It seemed to be waiting for him to do something, and Zuko had a pretty good idea of what.

He stroked the little dragon cradled in his arms, murmuring reassurances to it. He maneuvered it to perch on his right arm, then slowly, he extended it to the blue dragon.

The adult moved closer, nosing at the hatchling, and the baby sniffed it right back. It seemed curious now, less afraid, which was a good sign. Zuko bent and gently placed the hatchling on the ground. The little one looked back at him, unsure, and he gave it an encouraging nudge toward the blue dragon. It crept forward, step by tiny step, until it was just below the adult’s jaw. The blue dragon dipped its head and brushed the tuft of fur on its chin over the baby’s back. The little one arched in pleasure and chirped. Its parent turned its head to offer the hatchling the larger patch of fur just behind the hinge of its jaw, and the baby burrowed into it, latching on when its parent raised its head to ride along as the blue dragon turned and walked away.

Zuko tried to feel happy for the baby dragon. Its parents came back for it. They cared. They would take care of it, and teach it to fly and breathe fire and all the things it needed to know to be a dragon, and they would do a much better job of it than Zuko. It was a good thing that the hatchling didn’t need Zuko anymore. Agni had seen Zuko’s failure and had provided a better way by guiding the adults back to their child.

This was for the best. Why couldn’t he just accept it? Nobody needed Zuko. Not Father or Mother or Uncle. Definitely not Azula. The Fire Nation certainly didn’t need him, a shamed and banished prince. Why would a family of dragons need Zuko? Only, he wished that he were the kind of person that others would want to keep around, even if he wasn’t useful.

Though he tried not to, Zuko felt just a little bit envious of the hatchling. It was unworthy of him to feel that way, he knew. Just because he wasn’t good enough for Mother to come back to him or Father to want him near didn’t mean he was allowed to be jealous. He should only be glad that the little one he had come to love so much would be cared for. And he was glad for the baby. But he was also a little sad for himself. It was pitiful of him, but he couldn’t seem to help it.

He furled up those feelings tight inside his chest as he turned to face the red dragon. He folded his hands together to try to stop them shaking as he slowly raised his eyes to meet the dragon’s gaze. The dragon regarded him for a minute. Would it eat him? He didn’t think he would make a very good meal. The weeks of starvation had not left him with much flesh on his bones.

The dragon opened its mouth. Zuko flinched and turned his head away, squeezing his eyes closed. But instead of being engulfed in the dragon’s flame as he expected, he felt a long, wet tongue sweep over him from toes to scalp.

Zuko, a bit shell-shocked, looked down at himself, dripping with dragon spit. The dragon had just—licked him.

Gross.

Then the dragon was raising its head, rubbing the bottom of its jaw across Zuko’s head, over his shoulders and sides. The tuft of fur on its chin tickled a little, and Zuko let slip a small, surprised noise before he forced himself to be still as he let the dragon do as it wished. And then—

And then the dragon turned its head fully to the side and showed Zuko the patch of fur just behind its jaw.

Zuko’s breath caught as he recognized the motions the blue dragon had gone through with the hatchling. He had a swooping feeling in his stomach like he got when he missed the last step in the stairs. Did he understand correctly? Was he supposed to—?

Zuko made an aborted motion forward, then hesitated. He glanced at where the red dragon was looking to the side, patiently waiting for him. Then Zuko slowly reached out and touched the dragon, his hand sinking into its ruff.

Zuko felt the vibration of a rumble deep in the dragon’s throat. Its head did not move, but something else shifted, and suddenly the huge, scaly side was at his back, gently pushing him forward until his entire body was pressed full-length into the soft fur of its neck.

With the dragon’s body curled around him, pressing in on him back and front, it was almost like getting a hug.

Zuko buried his face in the dragon’s fur in a vain attempt to hide the tears suddenly dripping onto his cheeks. He felt like his chest was full to overflowing with something golden and warm, relaxing something in his heart that had been tense and fragile for a long time. It hurt, but it also felt so good.

He wasn’t sure how long he basked in the dragon’s embrace. Long enough to whisper a prayer of thanks to the dragons and to Agni for giving him another chance. Soon enough, the hatchling came scampering over, twining around Zuko’s legs and chirping for his attention. Zuko gave a watery laugh at its antics as he pulled himself away from the dragon’s fur and wiped the tears from his face.

Zuko tentatively let himself hope that he and his new little sibling were going to be okay.

Chapter Text

Sokka was a lot more willing to apologize to Zuko when he saw that the other boy had contributed jerky from his own supplies for their meal. Finally, another guy who could appreciate the finer things in life. Namely meat.

Also, he wasn’t a jerk about it when Sokka muttered an apology. He just nodded and handed him some jerky. Well, maybe Sokka had been a bit hasty in his judgement of the firebending weirdo. Zuko didn’t seem all that bad, really.

…Unless Katara, that little sneak, had put him up to this. Did she reveal Sokka’s secret weakness for meat to the enemy?

Sokka abandoned his suspicious glaring at Katara (who was clearly ignoring him, how rude) when Aang started interrogating Zuko. Sokka would have quite liked to interrogate the guy himself, but he would let Aang handle it for now. The kid never asked the important questions, like, How many of your firebending friends are you planning on betraying us to? or, Will you be telling the Fire Lord where we are immediately, or will you give us a few days’ head start to make the hunt more interesting? But Aang was a cute little pest. Who could say no to those big, innocent, polar puppy eyes?

Definitely not Zuko, at least, who seemed pretty bemused by Aang’s persistent interest in him but kept answering his questions nonetheless. Sokka wasn’t sure why Zuko was confused by Aang’s attention. Little kids like him tend to get fixated on a shiny new playmate, especially one that has a dragon.

“How old is Druk?” Aang was asking. “Is he fully grown?”

“He’s not quite three years old,” Zuko answered. “He’s a long way from fully grown.”

“I thought so! Appa is six years old, and he’s already full-grown.” Aang paused to toss a peach into the bison’s giant mouth. “Hey, I read this book once that talked about a gemsbok cow that bonded with a tigerdillo cub. She raised the cub as her own, and the tigerdillo saw her as its mother even after it grew up. Isn’t that neat? Maybe Appa could take Druk under his wing, show him a few things.”

Zuko kind of shrugged, like he didn’t want to hurt Aang’s feelings by telling him his ludicrous plan was ridiculous. “Druk and I have parents, you know,” he said instead.

Aang whipped his head around to Zuko so fast he nearly overbalanced. “What, you mean like dragon parents?”

“Yeah. What other kind of parents would a dragon have?”

“Wait,” Katara said, “you said that Druk and you have parents. Do you mean the dragons are your parents too?” Okay, what weird herb had Aang put in the food today? It had to be a hallucinogen if Katara actually thought that—

“Yeah, they are.”

Sokka spit out the mouthful of water he just took from his cup. “What?? How in the name of La did a dragon give birth to you?”

Zuko just raised his one eyebrow at him. “They didn’t, obviously,” he said, like that ought to explain everything. “They found me with Druk right after he hatched, and they took me in. I guess your example is sort of similar, Aang. They kind of treated me like one of their own hatchlings.”

Okay, things were starting to come together now for Sokka. This actually explained so much. Zuko had been living in the wild with dragons and avoiding other humans for almost three years? No wonder he was such an awkward turtle duck. He was practically one of those feral children that you hear about every so often that get lost on the ice and found and raised by polar bear dogs. Only Zuko was an undersocialized firebender raised by dragons, so who even knew what kind of weird behaviors he’d picked up?

“Sokka said that the dragons are extinct,” Aang was telling Zuko. “But I guess that’s not true? I mean, we found you and Druk and we weren’t even looking.”

Zuko frowns. “Sokka is almost right. There really aren’t very many dragons left. Only three that I know of.”

“Oh.” Something about that took the wind out of Aang’s sails, and the kid sagged. Sokka saw him glancing at Appa and Momo, the lemur lovingly named after it brought Aang some peaches. Sokka held in a wince. If even the dragons, so revered in the Fire Nation, were so rare now, what about the flying bison and the winged lemurs? It didn’t bode well.

Zuko seemed to understand Aang’s distress as well, because he told them that he’d seen other lemurs at the Eastern Air Temple, which raised Aang’s spirits right back up again. Seriously, nothing could keep that kid down for long; he was sickeningly optimistic. Sokka noticed that Zuko said nothing about seeing any other bison, but he wasn’t going to point that out to Aang. That was a thing to deal with another day.

Momo, who had to know that they were talking about him, the little demon, stared at Sokka with those eerie, green eyes.

Sokka glared back. “I’ll still cook you,” he told the lemur.

Momo retorted by stealing his last piece of jerky and running off with it.

“Hey! Give that back, you little cretin!” Sokka took off after it. “Aang, you better make him give it back or he’s dead meat!” Maybe another lemur chase would get the kid’s mind firmly off the topic of the probably extinct bison. Sure enough, Sokka heard Aang’s laughter dopplering as he ran past, boosted by his airbending.

Sokka, unfortunately, ran out of steam quickly on his second lemur chase of the day. Wind and ocean, how did that kid have so much energy? Wasn’t he like, frozen and mostly dead a couple days ago?

He found the kid in some kind of low, outlying structure, kneeling on the ground for some reason.

“Hey Aang, you find my dinner yet?” Aang didn’t respond. Was he…crying? “Aang, I wasn’t really gonna eat the lemur, okay?”

That’s when Sokka saw them—the bodies. Fire Nation soldiers and what was clearly the skeleton of an airbender, still clad in ragged yellow robes and—and the same necklace he’d seen on the statue of Monk Gyatso, Aang’s mentor. His heart sank. He knew that the Fire Nation had wiped out the Air Nomads, but he had never expected to be confronted with the evidence quite like this. And poor Aang…

“C’mon Aang, everything will be all right,” Sokka said, trying to comfort the little guy with a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get outta here.”

Aang stopped crying, but Sokka’s hope that that was a good sign abruptly died when the kid started glowing.

What in the name of La?

Aang got to his feet and the wind began to swirl around them, growing stronger with each passing moment.

“Aang, c’mon! Snap out of it! Aaghh!” The powerful wind sent Sokka spinning through the air. He had just enough presence of mind to cover his head with his arms before his body connected with something very hard. Sokka grunted as the breath was punched out of him.

“What happened?” Katara and Zuko were suddenly beside him.

“He found out firebenders killed Gyatso. And then, this!”

“But what is this?” Katara’s guess was as good as his. Did all airbenders glow when they were experiencing soul-deep grief?

“He’s gone into the Avatar state,” Zuko said, which, what? Aang was what now?

“I’m gonna try and calm him down,” Katara said.

“Well, do it! Before he blows us off the mountain!” This was, in Sokka’s opinion, not an irrational fear at this point. Because apparently Aang was the Avatar.

Katara tried to move forward, but the wind was too strong for her to go quickly, and then Aang actually lifted up off the ground to hover menacingly twenty feet in the air, and the wind reached a howling gale. Sokka could barely see Aang’s small figure with all the dust and debris blowing around. He did however see when the huge dragon came up beside them. Zuko grabbed his arm, and before Sokka could even protest, they were moving forward, protected under the dragon’s wing. Zuko snagged Katara as well and they all made their way towards Aang, the dragon providing a bulwark against the wind.

When they were underneath Aang, Zuko lifted his sister onto the dragon’s neck, then got on behind her, arms on either side of her to steady her. Sokka didn’t have any better alternative, so he couldn’t exactly protest. He just hoped the guy knew what he was doing and wouldn’t let his baby sister fall or be blown away.

As the dragon lifted them up to the distraught airbender, Sokka prayed to La that this would end well. He saw Katara reaching up to the boy, though she was still several feet below him.

“Aang, I know you’re upset.” Wow, Katara, no kidding? “And I know how hard it is to lose the people you love. I went through the same thing when I lost my mom.” Sokka found his own heart constricting at the pain in his sister’s voice. If he had one wish, it would be that Katara could stop blaming herself for Mom’s death.

“Monk Gyatso and the other airbenders may be gone, but you still have a family. Sokka and I, and Zuko, we’re your family now.”

Something about what Katara was saying was getting through to him. The wind was dying down, and Aang was sinking, coming down to rest on the crest of Druk’s neck. Katara’s and Zuko’s arms reached out to catch him.

The dragon slowly lowered them to the ground, where Zuko slipped off its neck easily then turned to take Aang from Katara so she could dismount as well. Sokka left the shelter of the dragon’s wing to join them. The kid’s eyes and tattoos were still glowing with that eerie blue-white light, even though his body was limp in Zuko’s arms.

“We aren’t going to let anything happen to you,” Sokka told the little airbender as his sister took the boy’s hand in hers. “Promise.”

Finally the weird glow faded. Aang groaned and seemed to swoon a bit. “’M sorry.” Poor kid sounded exhausted.

“It’s okay,” Katara told him. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“But you were right,” Aang whispered. “And if firebenders found this temple, that means they found the other ones too. I really am the last airbender.”

Tui and La, this kid. He’s gonna break Sokka’s heart.

Zuko held the boy a little tighter against him, and Katara wrapped her arms around them both. Sokka put one hand each on Katara’s shoulder and Aang’s foot, the easiest part of him he could reach. Hopefully Katara and Zuko wouldn’t smother the kid.

Who was he kidding, Katara was definitely going to be doing some smothering in the coming days. Poor Aang could probably use it, frankly.

Everyone simultaneously and without actually saying anything agreed that it was time to turn in for the night. Aang nodded off in Zuko’s arms before he could even set him down, so they all just piled up together with Druk and Appa curled around them. It was a lot warmer than Sokka thought it would be without being in their sleeping skins. Zuko and the dragon seemed to be giving off a lot of heat.

Katara and Aang were sound asleep in minutes, but Sokka could tell that Zuko was still awake by the way the moonlight reflected off his golden eyes. It was…pretty freaky, to be honest.

“Hey…Zuko?” Sokka whispered, though he knew that Katara and Aang were out. A herd of camel yaks could stampede over them and they would sleep right through it.

“Hm?” Zuko blinked at him over the heads of Aang and Katara, sandwiched between them.

“You think Aang is the Avatar?”

“You didn’t know?”

“No. Katara and I broke him and his bison out of an iceberg. When he didn’t know about the war, we figured out that he’d been frozen for a hundred years. We knew he was an airbender, but he never bent any other elements.”

“…And you thought that being frozen for a hundred years was just a thing that a normal pre-teen airbender could survive?”

“Well when you put it like that… Actually, I probably should have known something was up when he came out of that iceberg in a giant beam of blue light.” Zuko was looking at him like he’s an idiot, Sokka just knew he was. “Look, we weren’t exactly expecting to find the long-lost Avatar on our fishing trip, okay, give me a break.”

“Druk and I saw that beacon while we were still at the South Pole,” Zuko mused. “We were actually on our way to see what it was when…well, when we saw a Fire Nation signal flare coming from the same direction. We decided it was better to leave the South Pole entirely after that.”

“Actually, that flare was Aang and Katara. They set it off by accident from an old wreck.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. We were a bit worried that some Fire Nation troops would come to investigate, but I don’t think there was a ship in the area to see the flare go off. Or the beam of light for that matter.”

“You’re probably right. The Fire Nation considers the Southern Water Tribe quelled. They wouldn’t station ships so close to the South Pole unless they really had to. Firebenders don’t like low temperatures.”

“Well, good. The hubris of the Fire Nation worked in our favor for once.”

“Hm.”

Aang stirred in his sleep, turning and burrowing into Zuko’s chest like a polar puppy seeking warmth from its mother. Zuko gently put an arm around the kid, careful not to wake him. Sokka’s heart melted just a little as he watched Aang’s small hand latch onto Zuko’s shirt. He was so small. Was Sokka that small when he was twelve? He held his sister a little closer.

He waited for Aang to settle before he spoke again. “I wonder why he didn’t tell us that he was the Avatar.”

“Maybe he didn’t know,” Zuko said, surprising Sokka.

“How could he not know that he’s the Avatar?”

“Traditionally the Avatar is told their identity when they turn sixteen. Aang might not have been told yet.”

“Huh.”

“So, if you didn’t know Aang is the Avatar, why are you traveling with him? Katara said that your mother… Are you…orphans?” La, this guy was just the most awkward dork ever, wasn’t he? How was it possible? He had a dragon, for Tui’s sake.

“Oh. No. Our Gran-Gran is still alive, and our dad is too.” He hoped. “The thing is, Katara is the last waterbender left in our tribe, after the Fire Nation took all the rest. She’d never even met another bender ever in her whole life until Aang. And now you, I guess. Aang told her that he would take her to the Northern Water Tribe to find a waterbending master. Katara wasn’t going to go at first because she didn’t want to abandon what family she had left. I was…kinda being a huge jerk about it. So Aang left, and he was just a little kid all alone out there on the desolate ice plain and Katara was sad and I hate it when she’s sad, she’s such a brat when she’s moping, and so I told her I’d go with her to take care of the dumb kid she adopted and find her a dumb waterbending master and keep all these dummies out of trouble, geez.”

Sokka couldn’t quite tell for sure in the dark, but he thought Zuko was smiling, which Sokka hadn’t actually seen him do yet, so maybe he was just imagining things. “That’s rough, buddy.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. Little sisters, what can I say. They exist to ruin your life.”

Zuko snorted, but then he sobered. “You’re a good brother, Sokka.”

Sokka was warmed by the compliment from the older boy. Sometimes it was hard being a big brother. He supposed Zuko would know, since he was an older brother to a dragon, somehow. Speaking of which. “I know that Katara kind of spoke for you when she called you Aang’s family. Sorry if that…if it’s not what you would have said for yourself.”

Zuko was silent a moment. “It’s all right,” he finally said. “I don’t mind. The dragons didn’t really ask either before they took me in, so I guess I’m used to it.”

Sokka grinned. “What, did they like, swoop in, snatch you up and carry you off one day?”

“Heh. Pretty much.”

Sokka sobered. “Do you have any…human family?” Family was important in the Southern Water Tribe. That’s why Katara basically adopted Aang, probably much the same way she inevitably would Zuko. They both seemed like they were all alone, and that’s hard for a person from the Water Tribe to stomach.

There was an even longer pause. “Yeah,” Zuko said softly, “I do.”

“How come you’re not with them?”

“I can’t. I can’t go back. They’re in the Fire Nation, and—and I was banished. By decree of the Fire Lord.”

“WHAT?!”

“Shh!”

“Sorry, what?” Sokka hissed. “You were banished? What for?” In the Water Tribe, banishment was pretty much a death sentence. People couldn’t survive for long on their own at the poles. Maybe it was different in the Fire Nation, but damn.

“…I guess you could say I was a political dissident.”

“You were a political dissident that was banished by the Fire Lord when you were what, thirteen?”

“Yeah…”

“And then you were adopted-slash-kidnapped by dragons and became a feral, firebending dragon-whisperer??”

“Uh…I guess so.”

Sokka pressed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets in the vain hope that it would make anything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours make sense. “Man, what even is your life?” What even was Sokka’s life? In the last couple of days, he’d gone on a road trip with his sister and the Avatar, discovered like three supposedly extinct species of animal, and nearly died from being blown off a mountaintop by a pre-teen’s spiritual tantrum. Not to mention ran into this guy, who was clearly insane. Or maybe the spirits really had it out for him, Tui and La, how did something this crazy even happen to someone his age?

You know what, maybe it was a good thing they ran into Zuko. He seemed to be experienced at pissing off the Fire Nation and getting away with it. Now that they’re helping the Avatar, they could probably use someone with his expertise.

“Fair warning: if you let Katara adopt you, she’s gonna want to keep you,” Sokka told Zuko. “You’ll be stuck with us, pal."

"She’ll have to fight the dragons for custody, and they’re not about to give me up easily.”

“Okay, but, you need a human family too. One you can actually hang out with, anyway. We can be that. Your human family.” Oh spirits. Had Sokka just offered to adopt Zuko? La, he was getting to be worse than Katara. Just a couple hours ago he was trying to punch the guy’s lights out, what happened to that?

There was silence from the other side of their cuddle pile. Zuko’s golden eyes were almost luminous as they looked at him. “Thank you, Sokka,” he said softly, hoarse voice maybe a little bit raspier.

Sokka cleared his throat. This conversation was getting too mushy for two guys to be having. “Yeah, no problem! Wouldn’t be fair not to warn you about my sister’s annoying mother-pig-hen tendencies, after all. Think nothing of it.”

“Of course.”

He yawned. “Well, I’m more tired than an otter-penguin with an egg. Probably should go to sleep.”

Zuko opened his mouth to respond, but just then his dragon batted him in the face with the tuft on the end of its tail. “Okay, okay, Druk. We’ll shut up and go to sleep now,” Zuko grumbled. “I know you think you need your beauty rest, you persnickety, overgrown crococat.”

Sokka covered his mouth to stifle his laughter so as not to wake Katara. Behind him, Appa rumbled and then Sokka felt something huge and wet swipe the back of his head.

“Eeuugh! Gross! Don’t lick me, you fluffy snot-monster!”

Sokka could hear what sounded suspiciously like Zuko stifling laughter as he tried to wipe the bison spit out of his hair.

“Fair warning:” Zuko finally said, a hint of amusement in his voice, “dragons like to do the same thing, so expect more licking in your future if Druk and I join your company.”

“I take it back. You’re not allowed to join us. I’m revoking your invitation, effective immediately. That giant lizard had better not think about licking me!”

The dragon hissed at him. Zuko, the jerk, was no help. He was shaking with suppressed laughter over there on the other side of the cuddle pile where Sokka couldn’t reach to elbow him in the ribs.

Sokka sighed. What did he ever do to the moon to deserve this?

Chapter Text

Morning meditation, Zuko found, was a lot harder when you had a wriggly baby dragon in your lap begging for attention. Especially when that dragon seemed to get bigger every day.

“Oof,” he grunted as Druk headbutted his stomach a bit too hard. He opened his eyes with a sigh. It seemed that Druk was ready for meditation to be over.

“You’re supposed to be doing this too, you know,” he told his little brother, scratching his favorite spot behind his nubby horns. Druk’s eyes fell half-closed in pleasure.

Zuko exhaled slowly and allowed the small flame he was meditating with to go out. Then he summoned a fire over his upturned palm. Slowly, he formed it into a ball and tossed it from hand to hand. Druk watched as though hypnotized.

“You want to learn how to do this too, don’t you, buddy?” Druk seemed about old enough now to begin breathing fire, he just hadn’t yet. He’d coughed out sparks a few times, but no flame. Their parents didn’t seem too worried about it though, so Zuko wasn’t worried either. Druk would make a flame eventually. The last thing he wanted to do was pressure Druk to summon fire. It had been horrible for him in that year after Azula first started bending, when he didn’t have his own flame yet. He’d prayed to Agni every morning and evening to let him be a firebender like his father had made very clear he wanted, and nearly burnt himself out with anxiety trying with all his might to make even the smallest spark. No, he definitely didn’t want that for his little brother.

Zuko tossed the fireball in the air, and Druk leapt after it, batting his wings in an attempt at flight. Zuko, no longer pinned beneath a lapful of dragon, rose and stretched. Druk took this as an invitation to try to knock him down again, which led to a short wrestling match. Zuko won, but Druk was going to grow bigger than him eventually, at which point it was going to be much harder to pin his “little” brother. Hopefully by then Druk would grow out of his current fascination with trying to get Zuko to move on all fours like the rest of his family, and just accept that Zuko was a two-legged creature.

Zuko raced Druk to their storage cache, and that one Druk might have won if he didn’t keep trying to unfurl his wings, which were catching the wind and slowing him down. He couldn’t really fly yet, but his instincts sometimes demanded that he try. Zuko fed Druk his breakfast of fish, caught and smoked a few days ago, and took a fish for himself. They had plenty of food now—their parents had made sure of it. Druk was still a bit too young to be a good hunter, but Zuko was learning all he could from the adult dragons. He never wanted Druk or himself to ever go hungry again.

It was a gorgeous late spring morning, nearly summer, and Zuko had been waiting for just such a day to take Druk to explore the mountains outside of the valley that had been their home these last months. He waved to the red dragon, sunning itself in the grass, as they headed out, and it flicked its tail lazily at them.

The adults allowed Zuko and Druk to do as much exploring as they wanted now, though when they had first come to the valley, it had been a different story. For the first couple of weeks, the grown-ups had kept them pretty much corralled at one end of the vale, and didn’t allow much wandering. They seemed to mostly want the two of them to eat and sleep a lot. Anytime Zuko was up on his feet for more than an hour, one of them, most often the blue one, would come chivvy him back to the nest. It had been nice at first for Zuko to know that the adults were taking care of things, so he didn’t have to get up when he wasn’t feeling well because sleeping in didn’t mean he and Druk would starve or that Father would punish him for his laziness. But as Zuko started to feel stronger, the dragons’ insistence on sleep began to get a little frustrating.

The enforced rest had probably been for the best though, in the end. Right after they arrived, Zuko had succumbed to another bout of fever. He had been very weak from weeks of starvation, exposure and fighting off infection, and he wasn’t sure that he would survive this latest attack of his illness. But the dragons had had a solution to that as well: dragon breath.

The morning after arriving in their new home, Zuko found himself unable rise with how sick he was. The fever had come on so suddenly that he was in serious danger before he even realized. He lay on the ground, struggling for breath, his whole body one giant throbbing ache, certain that this was it for him.

Then the red dragon curled around him, its long body wrapping several times around the place where he lay. It then stuck its snout down into its coils, hovering just above Zuko’s head, and breathed on him.

Its breath smelled of the headiest incense, many times stronger than what Zuko had smelled on the dragons’ breath before. When Zuko shakily inhaled, it felt like hot smoke going down his throat into his lungs. He braced himself for coughing or chest spasms, but it didn’t hurt. The intense heat was somehow soothing instead of burning.

The dragon gently nudged Zuko’s chest with its nose, then breathed on him again, and Zuko fought to steady his own breathing, to inhale as deeply as he could. He closed his eyes and tried to match his breaths to the dragon’s. With each inhale, he tried to send his breath to all parts of his body—his head, his stomach, his limbs—as he had been taught to do in meditation.

He didn’t know how long he lay there under the dragon’s care before he began to drift off, head spinning with the scent of incense. He distantly felt a warm, wet tongue against his face just before he lost consciousness.

When he woke the next day, he found to his surprise that he felt almost as good as new. What’s more, the burn on his face seemed better, less raw and painful than before. His vision had cleared considerably, and Zuko wasn’t sure if that was because his eye was no longer swollen almost shut, or if he had actually lost some sight in that eye that was now restored. Whatever the dragon had done, Zuko had not had a fever since, and his burn had healed and hardened into a scar much more quickly than he had expected without any bandages or salves.

Zuko was grateful for the reduced recovery time. It was hard enough as it was to keep up with the rapidly growing baby dragon and keep his little brother out of trouble. That was why they were going exploring outside the valley today. Of course Zuko wanted to know what was out there, but it would also keep Druk entertained and wear him out so he would sleep well tonight.

Early on, Zuko and Druk had found the remains of an old, wooden structure in the valley that was little more than a half-collapsed pile of rotten wood. There was enough left of it though that Zuko could see that it had once been enormous. And just beyond this ruin was an overgrown path leading up into the mountains. Zuko had no idea where it led, or if it went anywhere at all, but it would be a good marker for them so they didn’t get lost.

They didn’t make great time on their walk, but that wasn’t really the point. They were just out to see what they could see. Zuko knew his father would never have approved of this purposeless wandering, stopping every time Druk got distracted chasing a flying insect, pausing for Zuko to look more closely at the wildflowers growing near the path. But Father wasn’t here, and neither was Azula to tattle on him, so Zuko wasn’t going to worry about what Father would think, at least not for today.

They had been walking along the path for perhaps two hours when they came to a long staircase hewn into the rock. Zuko made Druk scramble up the stairs ahead of him so he could make sure that the little dragon didn’t misstep and tumble back down. After the stairs there was a tunnel, through which Zuko lit their way with a small flame in his palm. And after that…

They came out onto a balcony that was so high, clouds obscured their view of the ground. Zuko tugged on Druk’s tail to warn him away from the edge. And above them…

…Above them was an upside-down city, clinging to the underside of the cliff.

It was absolutely astounding. Zuko had never seen anything like it before. As he and Druk ventured further into the city, he discovered that the buildings only appeared to be upside down, but all the wonders inside were still fully accessible. The first mural he came across clearly depicted a group of people airbending, and Zuko realized that he must be in the Western Air Temple, the very place that he was headed on his ill-fated voyage.

Who would’ve thought that he would make it here after all.

Excited now, Zuko raced with Druk through the rooms, marveling at whatever caught their attention. Druk was enamored with a chamber that was designed with amazing acoustics that allowed sounds to echo for an impressive amount of time. Zuko wished that he could show Uncle the enormous pai sho board. Both of them thoroughly enjoyed trying to figure out an obstacle course that was designed to be used by airbenders.

Zuko couldn’t help but notice that most of the rooms in the temple trended either towards practicality—kitchens for cooking, cells for sleeping—or whimsy, like the room that contained hundreds of bottles of colorful sand, some of which were poured into the glass vials in layers that created pretty patterns and even detailed images.

None of the rooms contained weapons or armor, or even appeared to be armories. The training grounds did not seem geared toward military maneuvers either.

Maybe the Air Nation Army was stationed at one of the other temples. Though the Western Air Temple was the closest to the Fire Islands and the best hidden, which would have given it a greater strategic advantage in any campaign against the Fire Nation…

Zuko’s attention was caught by a beautifully styled mosaic inlaid into a wall that depicted a nun mid-airbending. Her form was graceful as she directed a funnel of wind. Zuko copied her stance, then thrust out his hands like she was, turning his palms, twisting his fingers and—

—And nothing. Instead of a funnel of fire as Zuko had intended, a weak puff of flame and smoke burst from his fingertips.

Zuko winced. How embarrassing. That was awful, even for him. He tried again, with the same result. Perhaps this was a form that only worked for airbending and wasn’t transferrable to firebending, but it was probably more likely that Zuko was doing it wrong. He tried a few more times, to no greater success.

Frustrated, Zuko decided to try a firebending kata first. Maybe he could get his chi moving with something familiar, then flow into the new move.

He started off with the last kata he had mastered before his banishment and—

—Nothing. His fire remained as weak as if he were six years old again and just learning for the first time how to command his flame.

Zuko felt a lead weight settle in his belly. This couldn’t be! He punched forward again and again, but he could barely produce more flame than a candle. With every failure, the crushing weight in his stomach increased until he felt like he was going to throw up. He finally had to stop, breath coming short, feeling unpleasantly sweaty and clammy.

This was bad. This was really bad. How could he have lost his firebending? It didn’t make sense!

Father would be furious if he saw this.

A questioning chirp sounded, and Zuko looked up to see Druk regarding him, head tilted to the side in young curiosity. Zuko started to reach out to Druk, but upon realizing his hands were shaking, thought it better to keep to himself.

He should stop. He was probably frightening the little dragon. Druk wouldn’t understand just how much trouble Zuko was in. And besides, he shouldn’t be doing such poor bending in front of Druk. He was supposed to be a role model for his little brother, and the last thing Druk should be learning is whatever crappy firebending Zuko had just done.

The sun was still high in the sky, but Zuko knew that it was well past midday. “Let’s head back,” he told Druk, glad that his voice wasn’t shaking nearly as much as his hands.

Druk seemed reluctant as Zuko ushered them back out of the temple. He kept stopping both of them from leaving by rubbing up against the front of Zuko’s legs and trying to lick his hands.

“If we don’t leave now, we’ll be walking down the mountain in the dark,” Zuko told Druk, even if privately he thought they probably had time enough to stay for just a little longer. He just didn’t feel like exploring anymore right now. “I promise we’ll come back another day.”

Just as soon as Zuko figured out how to fix what was wrong with him.

Zuko was up before the sun the next morning, which was easy enough since he didn’t sleep at all that night. He had been too preoccupied with trying not to throw up, his stomach was twisting so bad.

His usual morning meditation was a mess. He couldn’t keep his mind focused or calm. He had to start over three times because his breath kept speeding up unconsciously as anxiety squeezed his chest.

He finally abandoned meditation when he realized that it just wasn’t going to happen for him that morning and set his feet in the opening stance of the most basic kata he knew. Uncle had told him more than once to not neglect his basics, and to keep returning to strengthen them regularly.

It was a disaster. He did all the movements right, he was certain of it, but his flame was no bigger than a wall sconce’s. He took a deep breath. He had to concentrate and breathe. He willed his breath to stay steady as he moved to do the kata again.

Worthless, Father’s voice hissed in his memory.

It really was rather unhappily reminiscent of failing to produce a flame when he was a child. Zuko did the kata again and again, trying with all his might to get his flame to grow with no success. With each failure, the vice around his chest tightened. It was getting hard to take a deep breath, which wasn’t helping, but he couldn’t stop.

“When you were born, we weren’t sure if you were a bender at all. You didn’t have that spark in your eyes.”

He had to fix this. He can’t have lost his firebending. Father would disown him entirely if he couldn’t firebend anymore. In his panic, it didn’t occur to Zuko that his father had already banished and burned him.

At one point, Druk came bounding over and tried to engage Zuko in a game of tag, which Zuko had taught him weeks ago to help him practice his agility. But Zuko was in no mood for games.

“Not right now, Druk,” he said tersely as he assumed the opening stance once again.

Not getting the message, Druk followed him through every step of the kata, playfully nipping at the boy’s heels.

“Stop it!” Zuko told the little dragon, unconsciously raising his voice in irritation. “I said not now! Leave me alone!”

Druk, unused to hearing that tone from his big brother, stopped and looked up at Zuko in surprised confusion.

“Just go away!” Zuko said, voice tight and eyes prickling with frustration. Druk slunk off, but not before giving Zuko the most betrayed look the boy had ever seen aimed at him.

Now Zuko felt even worse. He didn’t mean to yell at Druk, but he really couldn’t play right now. He had to fix his firebending. He couldn’t be Druk’s brother, he couldn’t be family to dragons, without the ability to firebend. Father had made it very clear since Zuko was a small child that he was not worthy to be a member of the royal family without a flame.

“I planned to cast you from the palace. How shameful it would be for a prince of the Fire Nation to have a nonbender as his firstborn!”

He was sure the same applied to dragon families. Dragons were the original firebenders, after all. Why would they want a boy with a broken flame?

He continued his practice as the sun climbed high in the sky. He tried every kata he could think of. He practiced until his arms shook, his knees trembled and sweat dripped down his face, and still he could not produce a full flame. In fact, he was getting worse. His fire dwindled from a small torch to a candle, until finally, he was able to produce nothing but smoke.

“Azula was born lucky. You were lucky to be born.”

Zuko stopped, panting, his whole body aching with strain. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, which felt tight from exertion and fear.

He heard a low rumble, and when he looked over, he saw the dragons there, looking right at him. Watching.

The hot, prickling sensation behind his eyes finally spilled over into tears as Zuko let out a sob. This was it. They knew, they’d seen how pathetic he was. He’d lost his bending, he’d lost his new family, he’d lost his crown, he’d lost everything. He could never go back home now, not like this, even if he caught a hundred Avatars. His father would never welcome back a failure with a broken flame.

Zuko crouched down when his legs seemed too shaky to hold him and squeezed his eyes shut against the sight of his tears falling to the earth. Why was this happening? Why did things like this always happen to him? Was he cursed? Or was he just so inadequate that he could do nothing but fail?

Suddenly he felt a shadow fall over him, and in the next instant a huge scaly snout was rubbing over his back. He shuddered, but before he could begin to worry that the dragons had changed their minds about eating him, he felt a small wet tongue licking over his cheeks, wiping away his tears.

Zuko opened his eyes to his little brother’s face inches from his, little pink tongue still sticking out in the midst of washing his face. The little dragon crooned to him, and Zuko’s breath hitched. It wasn’t a sound that either of the adults ever made, and that was because Druk had learned it from him, by imitating the way Zuko hummed lullabies to him ever since he was newly hatched to soothe him to sleep. Druk was trying to console Zuko.

Zuko didn’t have it in him to push Druk away again. He still felt incredibly guilty for how he had spoken to the young dragon earlier. He raised his hand and stroked the fur just behind Druk’s jaw, in acceptance of the comfort offered. His little brother leaned into his touch, and Zuko felt his heart warm.

He felt the tickle of fur all along his spine, and glanced back to see the blue dragon had stopped the comforting motion of stropping its jaw over his back and was now positioned with its head alongside him, pressing the furred hinge of its jaw against him, as good as forcing him to accept the comfort it was offering. Zuko sighed and leaned back into the draconic embrace. He glimpsed the red dragon curled around all three of them, head raised like it also wanted to do the same, but knew there was no room for its giant head to come near.

Zuko’s heart felt full, but heavy. He was grateful that the dragons did not seem like they would discard him now, but how could he ever fit in to a dragon family without his firebending?

Although he must have been fooling himself, because how could a worthless screw-up like Zuko ever have belonged among these magnificent creatures, firebending or no?

The next morning, the adults woke Zuko and Druk just before sunrise and prodded them out of the nest. Unsure what the dragons wanted, Zuko came to attention immediately. After all, he was used to being unexpectedly woken at all hours by his father or his masters to test his readiness with a surprise spar or training. Not to mention that Azula thought it was fun to sneak into his room and pounce on him. Druk, on the other hand, yawned and reluctantly stumbled out. Still on edge after his failure yesterday, Zuko fetched both of them some smoked fish for breakfast in hopes that it would wake Druk up a bit and hopefully avoid making the adults annoyed with them.

Soon they were headed into the mountains, back up the same path that Zuko and Druk had traversed yesterday, the adults flying ahead while their young followed on the ground. Zuko wondered where they were going. The dragons had never showed any interest in taking them out of the valley before, though one or the other had left by themselves to go hunting on occasion.

Zuko and Druk made it to the Western Air Temple just as the sun was peeking over the mountaintops. The dragons were waiting for them as they emerged from the tunnel, hovering in the air above them. Zuko led Druk up to one of the higher platforms of the Temple, where they could be closer to their parents.

Once the children were situated and paying attention, the two dragons swooped down in an elegant formation, perfectly in sync with each other. From the graceful arch of their necks to the powerful spread of their wings, to the lithe twisting of their tails, it was almost like they were dancing. Zuko watched, fascinated. When he glanced at Druk, he saw the little dragon was just as enraptured, his wings quivering in eagerness to join the flight that he wasn’t quite big enough for yet.

The dragons paused in their flight, looking back at their children meaningfully. Zuko started to realize that the dragons wanted them to join their dance. But neither he nor Druk could fly. So how was this going to work?

He watched as the dragons demonstrated their formation for them once more. Zuko began to move, using his arms to imitate the position of the dragons’ bodies. It was not unlike performing a firebending form, really. Druk, not to be left out, also scooted along the floor, holding his wings out and bending his tail and neck as he saw his parents do.

Together, Zuko and Druk practiced, with gentle correction from the dragons. Zuko found that he was actually enjoying himself. If this was training, it was nothing like the training he’d had before in the Fire Nation. The dragons did not hit him when he put a foot wrong, nor did they roughly grab him to force him into the proper position when he wasn’t doing it just right. They demonstrated as many times as he needed to memorize the sequence of movements without berating him for not paying proper attention and so needing another lesson. And Druk was so cute, hopping along the ground, wings spread and neck stretched out like he would take flight any minute. Zuko could tell that his little brother was also enjoying himself.

Finally, the dragons seemed satisfied with their progress, and all four of them lined up to do the dance-form together. Zuko found himself executing the steps of the form fluidly, with confidence, in complete synchronization with the three dragons. He felt the power in each sweep of the dragons’ wings, the grace and balance in their movements, the beauty of the sunlight reflecting off their scales. All of it moved through him and out again with each of his own movements, awakening his chi in a way he had never felt before. It was an incredible sensation.

Zuko and Druk completed the last step of the dance, spines arched and hands and wings extended to meet each other. The dragons came down to land on the canyon walls, one on each side of the platform where their young stood shaking with exertion and energy. They opened their mouths and suddenly—

—A whirlwind of fire issued from the dragons’ throats, engulfing the children completely.

Zuko gasped and nearly flinched away from the flames suddenly so close to his body, his face. But the fire was not hurting him, nor was it the angry red of his father’s flame. It was wonderfully warm, and burning with so many colors that Zuko could not name them all. It was beautiful, incandescent harmony. Zuko could feel tears pricking his eyes as he gazed upon the beauty that he’d never imagined could exist in fire. Their fire—his fire—was energy and life. It felt like the sun inside of him.

He understood now—fire was not just the rage that Father had taught him to use. It didn’t need to hurt or destroy. There was so much more to it than that. Perhaps there was also more to Zuko than his father knew.

As the column of wonderful fire faded away, Zuko drew on the flame inside him, lifting his hands and bringing it forth with the beauty of the dragonfire still in his mind and heart. Flame burst from his palms, warmer and brighter than any he’d ever produced, flickering with sparks of color.

Suddenly, there was another burst of flame just beside him. Zuko turned to see Druk, mouth stretched wide as he let loose a jet of flame, the first he had ever produced. Zuko whooped with joy. “You did it, Druk!” he shouted, just as his little brother tackled him in childish glee.

Zuko’s laughter mingled with the dragons’ roars of pride in their children, echoing throughout the Western Air Temple, the first joyful sound those stones had heard in a century.

Chapter Text

“Do you see anything, Appa?”

Appa only groaned in response. Katara chewed her lip. Despite the sky bison’s usually relaxing presence, she couldn’t seem to tamp down her anxiety. She wished she could be sanguine about the situation, but everything had happened so quickly, and she had no idea where Sokka and Aang were after the Hei Bai spirit attacked the village last night and took her stupid brother. She had been awake all night waiting for them to come back, and now that she had the daylight, she was out on Appa looking for them—with no success.

Katara gripped Appa’s reins tighter and tried not to think about what she would do if her brother and Aang didn’t make it back.

Suddenly, Appa roared. Katara jerked her head up, looking for whatever had caught Appa’s attention, and glimpsed a flash of red in the sky. She shaded her eyes with a hand and squinted at it.

“It’s Druk!” she cried, nearly leaping up in excitement at the sight of the young dragon heading for them. “It’s Druk and Zuko! Head higher, Appa! Yip yip! We’ll meet them above the clouds, out of sight!” Appa snorted his agreement.

Katara felt relieved that Zuko was nearby and coming to help. He wasn’t always around since they’d left the Southern Air Temple. He refused to come with them to populated places because Druk needed to be kept hidden, and he didn’t want to leave his younger brother alone for too long. However, it was necessary for Aang to visit towns along the way to the Northern Water Tribe, not only for supplies, but so that he could learn his duties as Avatar. It was actually Zuko who had pointed this out and suggested they start by visiting Kyoshi Island, the former home of Avatar Kyoshi, which had been very enlightening. Zuko hadn’t gone with them, of course, but he had found them in their camp out in the forest after they’d left the island. That established the pattern of meeting up between towns, traveling together only when Zuko was sure Druk wouldn’t be spotted.

It didn’t take long for Druk to reach them—the young dragon was faster than Appa, especially as he was never weighted down by a saddle or even really any baggage. Zuko traveled light in deference to Druk’s youth—he didn’t want Druk to strain himself unnecessarily carrying more than he should for his size and age.

As Druk hovered above Appa, Zuko executed a graceful leap from the dragon’s back to the bison’s saddle. He had hardly landed before Katara threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his torso. As usual when hugging Zuko, it took him a minute to remember to hug back—apparently he wasn’t used to hugs anymore after spending years among dragons—but after a beat, he wrapped his arms around Katara’s shoulders and held her close.

Katara buried her face in his chest, eyes shut tight to prevent the tears that threatened. She felt him stroke his jaw over the top of her head, a dragonish form of comfort more familiar to him than hugging. Katara had always wondered what Zuko’s life must have been like before the dragons that he had nearly forgotten how to hug in just three years, especially when dragon forms of affection seemed to come naturally to him. But even with Zuko’s typical awkwardness, he was still a strangely soothing presence as Katara tried to pull herself together.

“What’s going on, Katara?” Zuko asked after he’d tried to comfort her a bit. “I saw Aang fly past on the dragon spirit. He yelled something about going to see Roku? Where’s Sokka?”

Katara jerked her head up to look at Zuko, nearly whacking him on the chin with her skull as she did—only Zuko’s quick reflexes saved him. “You saw Aang? Where?? He’s been gone all of today and all last night. He went after the Hei Bai spirit because it was destroying the town and taking people but he couldn’t stop it and then it kidnapped Sokka and I waited up for them all night but neither of them have come back yet so I took Appa to look but we haven’t seen them yet—” Katara’s voice cracked and she finally paused to gasp for breath. Zuko squeezed her tighter in his arms and reached up to tuck her head back underneath his chin, then rubbed his face in her hair, probably desperate to comfort her so she wouldn’t start crying and make things even more awkward. What a weirdo. Even so, Katara felt a swell of fondness for their feral firebender friend, as Sokka had taken to calling him.

Once Katara had calmed down a bit, Zuko managed to coax her into telling him what had happened starting from the beginning. Katara was relieved when Zuko took her tale in stride.

“When I saw Aang, he was in spirit form, riding on a dragon spirit,” Zuko told her. “He’s still in our world, but his spirit is wandering without his body. We need to find him as soon as possible. Without his spirit, his body is defenseless. He’ll need our protection.”

Katara nodded and reluctantly let go of Zuko. He obligingly dropped his arms from around her, ending the embrace. Perhaps because he was unfamiliar with how hugs worked, he never initiated them until someone else had hugged him, but he also did not let go until the other person signaled that the hug was over. And yes, Katara was shamelessly taking advantage of that. Sokka rarely gave her more than a swift and deniable embrace since he became a teenage boy with a reputation to uphold. Even Aang got antsy if a hug went on a little long. But Zuko was evidently content to hold her for as long as she wanted, and actually, considering his inexperience, he was pretty great at hugging. He was always warm thanks to being a firebender, and he held on with just enough pressure not to be too loose or too tight. She’d have to tell him that someday. He tended to be a little insecure about some human interactions—whether that was because he’d been living with dragons too long or because he’d been isolated even before that was still a mystery.

Now, though, was not the time. Katara turned Appa back toward the village, where she had last seen Aang, with Druk flying alongside, showing off his loop de loops and barrel rolls.

Zuko and Druk tracked Aang and the Hei Bai spirit into the burned forest, and it wasn’t long after that that they found Aang—or his body, at least—sitting on top of an ancient shrine shaped like some kind of bear. After ascertaining that Aang was uninjured, just separated from his spirit, Zuko and Katara determined that the best course of action would be to stand guard over his body and wait for him to finish his spirit quest. Zuko figured that the spirit dragon would bring Aang back here when they were done.

“So how do you know so much about spirits?” Katara paced back and forth beneath the statue Aang was perched on. She was too anxious to sit still. “And how come you saw Aang and I didn’t?”

“I’ve been to the spirit world before,” Zuko responded. He was seated on a partially burned log and keeping one eye on Aang and the other on Druk, who was rolling on the ground, taking an ash bath. “Maybe that’s why I could see Aang and the dragon spirit. Most people can’t see spirits, usually. Or maybe it’s a dragon thing.”

“Dragon thing?”

“Yeah. Maybe I could only see Aang because he was with a dragon spirit. Or maybe seeing spirits is an ability that dragons typically have. I don’t know.”

Katara raised an eyebrow at him. “That doesn’t actually explain how you can see them, when you’re not actually a dragon.”

“I’m not really a dragon, no,” Zuko said, hesitantly. “But…living with dragons has changed me, in certain ways.”

“Really? How so?”

“It’s hard to explain… Like, I probably shouldn’t see or hear as well as I do. Not just because of this,” he said as he gestured to the scar on his face. Katara was dying to know how he got such a terrible injury, but she had forbidden Sokka from being so rude as to ask about it, so she wasn’t going to make herself a hypocrite by asking now. “But I can also see and hear things from a long way off, farther than most people can, I think. And, uh, smell is kind of weird too. I’m really sensitive to certain smells.” Katara wanted to ask which smells, but Zuko pressed on so quickly that she thought maybe he didn’t want to talk about that. “My firebending is different than it used to be too, and I’m not sure if that’s because I’m just learning more and getting better, or if it’s dragon-related.” He summoned a fire in his palm, and Katara watched, fascinated, as the flame turned from orange to green to violet. He’d showed them his colored flames a few times before, but it was just as cool now as it had been the first time.

“Other firebenders can’t make colored fire?” Maybe it was a dumb question, but Katara really didn’t know what firebending was capable of. It was only Aang’s excited reaction to Zuko’s flames that had made her realize that this ability wasn’t just beautiful, but rare. But could it be that Zuko was really the only human able to bend colored fire?

Zuko made his fire a bright blue and paused. “My little sister could get her fire to turn blue sometimes,” he said. “But that was because she was making the temperature hotter. Hotter flames burn blue.”

Katara stopped pacing, surprised. “You have a little sister?” Zuko nodded. “You never mentioned her.”

Zuko shrugged, but his shoulders hunched like he was uncomfortable. “I haven’t seen her in almost three years,” he muttered. “And she wouldn’t want to see me, even if she could. She probably thinks I’m a traitor. Or a failure. Or both.” He extinguished the flame in his hand.

Katara came over to sit down next to him on the log. She laid her head on his shoulder, a gesture she’d learned was sufficiently dragon-like to comfort Zuko. “I’m sorry. You must miss her.”

She felt him rest his head on top of hers as he huffed a laugh. “Sometimes. I try not to dwell on it.” Katara supposed that was wise. It sounded like maybe he didn’t always have a great relationship with his sister. “She’s probably mastered the blue flame by now,” he continues. “She’s about your age, actually.”

“Do I remind you of her?” she asked, wondering whether she hoped the answer was yes or no.

“No,” Zuko said. “You are very different.”

Katara looked down at the ground, feeling downhearted. “I guess that’s true, if she’s nearly a master at fourteen. That’s impressive. I can barely control my waterbending.”

Zuko gently jostled her. “She’s had access to the best firebending masters in the Fire Nation since she made her first sparks. You’re completely self-taught and still pretty impressive. I bet when you finally get to the Northern Water Tribe and find a master, you could give her a run for her money.”

Zuko’s encouragement warmed Katara’s heart. “I hope so.”

“You will. Besides, that’s not what I meant. I meant you have different personalities.”

“How so?” Katara may have been prying, just a bit, but she was curious to know more. Zuko hardly ever mentioned his human family or his life before he was adopted by dragons.

“You’re a better sister, for one thing.”

Katara smiled, touched. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, you haven’t pushed your brother off a roof, I don’t think.”

Katara snorted. “No, not yet, but the thought has crossed my mind.” She felt Zuko’s shoulder shake in a silent chuckle.

Katara sobered, reminded that Sokka wasn’t with her now to defend himself from their ribbing. She wrapped her arms around herself, stomach twisting again. “I really hope he’s okay, though.”

Zuko stroked his jaw over the crown of her head. “We’ll do everything we can to get him back,” he promised her.

Katara took a deep breath and looked around, hoping to change the subject. The more she thought about what was happening to Sokka, the more anxious she became.

“Did the Fire Nation really burn this forest down?” she asked Zuko.

“It looks like it.”

Katara sighed. “Aang took it really hard when we first saw this place. The Avatar is meant to protect nature, and he felt like he let this happen.” She felt Zuko stiffen at her side, but she wasn’t sure what had put him on edge. “I told him that the trees will grow back, and that seemed to help him, but…the damage is still really bad, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Zuko rasped. “Regrowth of an old forest like this won’t be quick. It will take years, probably decades, for this area to recover.”

“How could the Fire Nation do this?” Katara asked, voice low and angry. “All the damage they’ve caused, and for what? What are they going to have when they finally win this war? They’re going to rule over nothing but ashes.”

“It’s the war,” Zuko said, voice quiet. “War destroys. I’ve seen earthbenders do even worse damage than this, at times. I’ve seen fields that have been stripped of soil, mudslides that have buried towns, rock formations crumbled to rubble. It’s bad all around.”

“Yeah, but who started the war?” Katara demanded. “Who keeps fighting it? The Fire Nation started it, and it could have stopped decades ago, once they had control of the colonies, but they just keep pushing. The earthbenders are defending their kingdom from those ashmakers.”

“I—I’m sorry—” Katara suddenly realized that Zuko had moved away from her and was kind of wringing his hands as he glanced at her nervously.

The righteous anger burning in Katara dimmed. “No, Zuko, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have used that word. I know that not all firebenders are bad or agree with the war—after all, I’ve met you, and you’ve been a good friend. It’s just—I can’t seem to let go of my anger towards the Fire Nation. This war has cost me so much, me personally. It robbed me of the chance to learn our waterbending traditions from a master, but more importantly, it took my mother.” Katara felt the tears welling up in her eyes as the lump grew in her throat. “And I don’t even know why—why her? Why go into our house, why do that to her? She wasn’t a warrior, so why—why—”

She felt Zuko’s tentative hand on her shoulder. She turned and reached for him blindly, unable to see through her tears. He met her halfway and pulled her into a gentle embrace. He really was getting better at hugging.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair. “That’s something we have in common. I lost my mother young too, and I never knew why.”

Katara sniffled. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Zuko breathed.

“I’m so sorry, Zuko—”

“Shh, no need for that. You know that it hurts, but not all the time, anymore. We’ll be okay.”

Katara wiped her tears on Zuko’s shirt for the second time that day. “Okay. Thanks, Zuko.”

Zuko just hummed at her. Katara could feel the soothing vibrations in his chest.

Suddenly, Zuko stiffened. “Druk, no—no, no licking—!

Katara felt Zuko’s arms tighten around her as he quickly pulled her towards him and twisted to the side, surprising a shriek from her. The move put him between her and Druk, shielding Katara from the dragon’s tongue with his own body.

“Ugh, Druk!” Katara giggled at Zuko’s scowl as he ran a hand through his now sticky hair. The dragon nosed towards them again, but Zuko put out an arm to fend him off. “Stop trying to comfort us. You’re filthy!”

The dragon was, indeed, absolutely covered in ash from playing and rolling around on the ground. Druk sneezed, then cocked his head, and before Zuko could so much as get out another “No!” he was shaking himself like a polar puppy, raising a huge cloud of ash. Zuko yet again dove to cover Katara while she squealed and laughed at the young dragon’s antics.

When the dust settled, Zuko turned on Druk with a glare. Druk glared back, but with a tilt to his head that made him seem more playful than angry.

“Excuse me, Katara,” Zuko growled, “while I teach my little brother a lesson.” With that, he launched himself at the dragon. Druk, having clearly got exactly what he wanted—his big brother’s attention—threw himself into the fight with enthusiasm.

The first time she saw Zuko and Druk ‘wrestling’, Katara had been startled and a little concerned for Zuko. There just was no way for a fifty-foot dragon with razor-sharp fangs and claws to not look dangerous when acting aggressively. However, when Zuko handily pinned his dragon brother, Katara learned that she didn’t need to worry about the older boy—he could handle himself and his dragon.

Now she watched, grinning, as Zuko dodged Druk’s attempt to wrap the coils of his body around him. She could tell now that Druk was still young, probably still growing and a bit clumsy in figuring out how to move his long, unwieldy body on the ground. Zuko soon managed to get behind Druk and leap onto his back, then wrapped his hands around Druk’s nose, clamping his jaws shut and forcing his head down to his chest. Meanwhile, Zuko’s legs pinned Druk’s wings to his sides so that he couldn’t use them to bat his older brother off.

Deprived of the use of his wings, Druk instead rolled over on top of Zuko to try to dislodge him. This did not work, and Katara watched in amusement as the two of them rolled around on the ground, raising another cloud of ash and getting dirtier by the minute. She had no idea how Zuko could still breathe, let alone hold on to a half-ton reptile trying to buck him off. She knew that he was strong from all those hours riding a dragon without a saddle, but this display of his physicality was kind of incredible.

Once she had determined that the two of them had worked off some of their pent-up energy, she called the match to a close. “You two are raising so much dust the townspeople are going to come looking!”

Hearing that, they finally broke apart. “I win again,” Zuko told his brother. “You’ll have to try harder than that.” Druk responded by attempting to sweep his leg with his tail, which Zuko jumped over. “Nice try, buddy, but I didn’t mean right now.” Druk grumbled. “Don’t give me that. Katara’s right, we can’t cause a disturbance.” Druk flexed his claws and curled into a ball, sulking.

Zuko pulled a face as he tried to brush himself off. “Druk, why’d you have to pick a fight in all this? I think these clothes are ruined.” Druk only hissed at him. Katara wasn’t an expert at reading dragon emotions, but she thought he sounded quite petulant.

Katara smiled. “Here, you can use Appa’s brush. That might get more of it off.”

After several minutes of trying to clean up, Zuko was somewhat less dusty, but also now had a number of long, white hairs sticking to him. At the sight of his older brother, Druk made a rumbling sound in his chest that Katara had come to learn was the young dragon’s version of a laugh. Katara had to fight to contain her own laugh, because Zuko did look pretty ridiculous.

Zuko glared at his little brother, but then suddenly straightened. “They’re coming. Aang and the dragon are back.”

Katara followed his gaze, excited, but she couldn’t see anything. She heard, however, when Aang’s body suddenly woke up.

“Woah! What a rush! Hey Katara, Zuko, you’ll never believe where I just was!” Aang jumped down from the top of the statue to land lightly on his toes. He did a double take at Zuko. “Uh, how come you’re so dirty?”

Katara grabbed him in a hug before he could get another word out. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Aang. Did you find Sokka?” she asked, heart in her throat, but Aang shook his head.

“Sorry, I didn’t see him. I tried to ask Avatar Roku, but I didn’t get to talk to him.”

Katara’s heart sank. “Then what are we going to do?” she asked, trying and failing to keep the tremor out of her voice. “How are we going to find him?”

“If the spirit was angry enough to destroy buildings and kidnap people, it probably requires appeasement,” Zuko mused. “You’ll need an offering it will accept.”

“Like what?” Aang asked. “How do I know what it will accept? I tried to talk to it last night, but it just ignored me.”

Zuko cocked his head. “Didn’t the dragon spirit show you how to communicate with nonverbal spirits?”

“What? N—oh! Yeah, I get it!”

“Well, I don’t, but we’re out of time,” Katara said. “The sun is setting. We need to get back to the village fast before the spirit comes again.”

“Please come with us, Zuko!” Aang begged. Zuko looked hesitant. “I really don’t know what I’m doing and you know more than me about spirits, so I could really use backup! Also, I have more to tell you both about my vision, but there’s no time for that now, so can you stick with us until I can?”

Zuko caved. “Okay. Druk can be on his own out here for a few hours while we handle the spirit situation. I’ll come with you.”

“Thank you thank you thank you!” Aang wasn’t the only one relieved that Zuko was coming. Katara felt the knot in her belly loosen a little as Zuko joined them in Appa’s saddle.

Katara almost felt bad for making Zuko come with them when she realized just how hopelessly awkward he was around other people. The villagers were surprised when she and Aang showed back up with yet another apparently parentless kid, but they were polite to Zuko as a friend of the Avatar.

Well, mostly polite. Zuko was still pretty much covered in ash and bison hair, so there were a few people that looked down their noses at him when he came indoors with the rest of them to shelter from the imminent spirit attack. Unfortunately, Zuko seemed very aware of the scrutiny. His shoulders hunched, uncomfortable, whenever someone so much as glanced his way. He also clammed up, letting Katara do all the talking. It made Katara wonder how he could be so comfortable with their little group, initial awkwardness notwithstanding, then practically turn to stone around other people.

Though he was clearly out of his element, Zuko didn’t flinch when the giant, angry spirit showed up to terrorize the town. He stayed at the window with Katara, a supportive hand on her back, as they watched Aang face down the monster.

This time, Aang didn’t seem to have much trouble with the spirit. He didn’t manage to entirely prevent it from causing more damage, but he did get it to leave—by giving it an acorn, of all things—and to return the missing people, including—”

“Sokka!”

Katara ran to her brother and felt his arms close around her. She was so relieved that he was okay that she actually felt her eyes prickle with tears again, though she kept control of herself this time and didn’t let Sokka see.

Of course, her weirdo brother then ran off immediately to pee, so Katara rejoined Aang, who was talking to the village leader, telling him what he had learned from the Hei Bai spirit. Katara was surprised when she heard Aang mention her.

“It was Katara that showed me the acorns scattered all over the ground. She gave me hope that the forest would grow again,” Aang said, smiling widely at her. Katara felt her cheeks grow warm as her stomach fluttered. “Zuko told me that the spirit needed an offering to appease it, so when I realized that Hei Bai must be upset about its home burning down, I remembered what Katara said, and gave it an acorn. The acorn of hope!”

“The acorn of hope?” Sokka had returned. Katara elbowed him to remind him that she was still his sister and she still wasn’t going to let him get away with too much teasing, recent kidnapping notwithstanding.

“Your friend’s name…is Zuko?” The village leader asked carefully. He glanced over to where Zuko was standing away from the crowd, apparently examining one of the demolished buildings.

“Hey, would you look at that,” Sokka said. “You managed to lure our feral f—friend into town. I’m so proud of you guys. We’ll have him house-trained in no time.” Katara narrowed her eyes at Sokka’s near slip-up.

“How long have you known that boy?” The leader asked them, still watching Zuko warily.

“He’s one of my best and oldest friends!” Aang chirped. Not technically untrue, since Zuko, Sokka and Katara had met Aang the week he came out of the iceberg and thus had known him the longest of anyone alive—with the notably bizarre exception of King Bumi.

The man turned to them, frowning seriously. “But with a name like that and…those eyes… Don’t you know what he is?”

Turtle seal spit. He’d figured out that Zuko was a firebender. They should have thought of this before dragging Zuko into town. Katara had grown used to Zuko’s golden eyes and Fire Nation name; they didn’t register to her as odd or threatening anymore, so she hadn’t realized how it would seem to anyone else. Katara felt Sokka tense beside her as he came to the same realization she had—that Zuko might be in danger from these people.

Aang drew himself up to his full height, which unfortunately wasn’t very impressive. “He’s my friend,” the boy emphasized. “And he’s here to help. He’s instructing me in spirit matters. Didn’t I tell you that the offering was his idea? You saw what happened last night when I didn’t know what I was doing. This time was different because his advice to me worked.”

“We’ll all vouch for him,” Sokka said, more seriously than Katara had heard him be in a while. Katara nodded in agreement.

The village leader nodded back. “Very well. I suppose that for the Avatar, it is necessary to… Anyway. Thank you, Avatar. Is there any way we can repay you for what you have done for us?”

“You could give us some supplies. And some money.”

“Sokka!” Katara elbowed her brother again.

“What? We need stuff!”

The man bowed with a small smile. “It would be an honor to help you prepare for your journey.” He then left, presumably to start gathering the promised provisions.

Katara turned to Aang. “I’m proud of you, Aang. You figured this out and helped these people.”

“Well, I did have a little help.” Aang smiled at her and winked. It warmed Katara’s heart that her little ploy with the acorn to make Aang feel better had worked far beyond what she had expected.

Aang then turned and nodded at Zuko, who had snuck up to join them now that they were no longer surrounded by villagers. Aang’s smile slid from his face. “There’s something I have to tell you. I need to talk to Roku, and I think I found a way to contact his spirit.”

“That’s great, Aang!” Katara said. It looked like Aang had really overcome a spiritual block with this incident.

“Creepy, but great, sure,” Sokka said, and Katara pursed her lips. Was the constant commentary really necessary? She almost couldn’t believe she’d missed her annoying brother so much when he was gone.

“There’s a temple on a crescent-shaped island, and if I go there on the solstice, I’ll be able to speak with him,” Aang told them.

“But the solstice is tomorrow.” Katara bit her lip. How were they going to get there in time?

“Yeah, and there’s one more problem,” Aang said hesitantly, cringing a little.

“The island is in the Fire Nation.” Zuko’s low, rough voice delivered the bad news flatly.

Katara stiffened. “No. Please don’t go, Aang. The world can’t afford to lose you to the Fire Nation. Neither can I.” Her heart felt like it would pound right out of her chest.

“But I need to talk to Avatar Roku to find out what my vision means,” Aang insisted. “I need to get to the Fire Temple before the sun sets on the solstice. That’s tomorrow!”

Katara took a deep breath, exchanging a look with her brother. She saw the same resolve in his eyes. “We’re not letting you just run off into the Fire Nation, Aang,” she said, crossing her arms. She saw the boy’s face fall upon hearing the determination in her voice.

“Nope,” Sokka added. “At least, not without your friends. We got your back.” Sokka clapped Aang on the shoulder. Aang beamed, relieved. Then Appa got in on the action by giving Sokka a full-body lick, causing her brother to shriek. “Eww!”

Katara grinned, but her attention was pulled to Zuko, who hadn’t said anything. His eyes were conflicted as they darted between all of them.

“Zuko?” Aang asked, hesitant. “Will you—will you come with us?”

Zuko let out a long breath. “No. I won’t.” He hung his head. “I can’t take Druk into the Fire Nation. But I can’t leave him on his own either. Either way would be far too dangerous for a juvenile dragon without our parents. I’m sorry.”

Aang’s eyes widened. “Oooh. Okay, I understand. I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about that. Of course you can’t leave Druk alone or take him on a dangerous journey.” He glanced at Katara and Sokka. “It’s not like we’re staying for long. We’re only going for a few hours. In and out. We’ll be fine.”

Zuko didn’t exactly look convinced. Katara tried not to take that to heart.

As they all set about readying for their most dangerous trip yet, Katara couldn’t help but wonder if there was anything else behind Zuko’s hesitance to going with them into the Fire Nation. Obviously Druk was his first priority, and keeping his little brother safe was a very good reason for staying out of this venture. But what about Zuko? He had told them that he was banished, but he hadn’t exactly told them what for, nor what his punishment would be for returning. Katara wasn’t ignorant of the danger they all faced by doing this. If she, Sokka, or especially Aang were captured, it would be bad. Very bad. Maybe Zuko feared being caught too. Or maybe…

…Maybe there was a part of him that was still loyal to the Fire Nation.

Oh, not loyal like the soldiers in the army and navy were loyal, who did the Fire Lord’s bidding without question and seemed to truly believe they were superior. But it was one thing to pal around with his Nation’s enemies in exile. It was quite another to actively flaunt the Fire Lord’s decree and return to the Fire Nation in order to help the Avatar learn what he needed to know to end the war. Maybe that was a step too far for him, to fully work against his Nation.

Another horrible thought occurred to her, chilling her to the bone. Zuko had said that he had family in the Fire Nation. A sister, at the very least—a sister the same age as Katara. What would happen to her if Zuko turned on his Nation? Would the Fire Lord punish her for Zuko’s treason? Katara shivered.

She really wished that Zuko were going with them. She would feel a lot safer if he came. Aang was the only other experienced bender among them, and though he was a master at evasion, he wasn’t exactly a fighter. Katara could admit that she and Sokka were mostly only good for moral support for Aang. Her brother fancied himself a great warrior, but he’d had no one to teach him to fight or hunt since he was thirteen. And Katara was a waterbender who had never so much as met another waterbender, let alone learned how to control her powers. Zuko, meanwhile, had been flying, fighting, bending, hunting, and otherwise taking care of himself and a baby dragon for years now, and he’d lived in the Fire Nation before. He knew what he was doing, unlike the rest of them. It made Katara’s gut twist into knots to know he wouldn’t be with them.

However, given the circumstances, she knew that it was the right choice for Zuko. He had others to protect besides them. Maybe he didn’t always get along with his sister, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t still care about her. Like how Katara missed Sokka and worried about him when he was kidnapped, even though he’s super annoying.

As they loaded the last of the supplies onto Appa, Zuko, now bathed and in clean clothes given to him by the villagers, offered Katara a boost up into the saddle. Instead, she took the opportunity for one last hug.

“Good luck,” Zuko murmured into her hair, warm arms holding her perfectly tight.

Chapter Text

Zuko thought he would never tire of flying. It was just as exhilarating now, after hours of crossing the ocean clinging to the red dragon’s neck, as it had been the first time the blue dragon had taken him and his brother in its mouth and spirited them away.

Druk was not riding with Zuko this time though. Now that he was more than a year and a half old, he was strong enough to make this flight on his own, supervised by their parents, of course. Though he was not quite big enough to carry Zuko for any great distance, he was growing rapidly, and the adults had begun teaching both of them the long-lost techniques of a dragon and rider pair.

This was the longest flight they had shared yet, and Zuko was certain by now that they would not be going back to their nest today. Their parents had somewhere else in mind to stop for the night. This was also exciting to Zuko, as he and Druk had not spent a night outside of the nest near the Western Air Temple since their parents had first brought them there. He and Druk had just about run out of places to explore in the area.

However, Zuko understood why they stayed hidden in their little sanctuary; secrecy continued to be of the utmost importance to the dragons’ survival. So it was all the more surprising when Zuko spotted the island where they were headed and realized that there were buildings there—not just buildings, but what looked like an entire city. He watched as they drew closer and closer to the city with something in his stomach getting heavier the nearer they came. Zuko had to fight the unaccountable urge to hide his face in the red dragon’s mane.

Soon, they were right above the rooftops, but the expected shouts and clamor did not reach his ears. Zuko looked down and realized why the dragons were unafraid—the city was empty. In fact, it was a ruin. It had clearly been empty for decades, if not centuries, with the way the forest had partially reclaimed it. Zuko felt something in him relax.

The dragons soon settled their children into a new nest in the caves beneath a split peak topped with an ancient staircase, and though Zuko and Druk were excited to explore this new place, it was already nightfall, and their parents curled around them, ready for sleep. Zuko lay awake for a long time, feeling the familiar unfamiliarity of nesting here in this new place: cool stillness of the underground where there was once a warm breeze, stone beneath him instead of packed dirt—but the same blue scales wrapped around him, his brother’s head heavy on his chest, the sheltering awning of a red wing above him, and most of all, the heat of dragonfire surrounding him, soaking into his bones. It was not long before Zuko closed his eyes and drifted off, following a dancing flame into his dreams.

Zuko pelted through the maze of ruined streets, almost laughing aloud as he dodged broken statues and booby traps alike. He only had to keep evading Druk for two more minutes before he won the game, and he was playing hard to his strengths, which chiefly lay in agility—and size. Sometimes Druk still forgot that Zuko was smaller than him now, and he failed to check the hiding places that he couldn’t fit in anymore.

He ducked behind a statue and had to hold in a chuckle as he watched Druk race past, hustling to catch up with his older brother. As soon as Druk had gone by, Zuko went back and took a different direction at a fork in the road. It would take Druk a minute to realize that he wasn’t following Zuko’s scent anymore, and he would then have to double back to sniff out the real way Zuko had gone. By that time, Zuko will have found another hiding place. Druk was getting better at this game, but Zuko was still older and more experienced, and was able to stay a step ahead of his younger brother.

Zuko was perhaps a bit too caught up in thoughts of how he could teach Druk to more effectively track by scent, but even if he had been concentrating on the moment, he still wouldn’t have seen the obstacle he barreled into as he turned a sharp corner. He bounced off something solid, almost knocking him off his feet, but he managed to save himself from ending up vulnerable on his back by quickly turning his momentum into a backwards roll.

He heard a shout, and then a curse, neither of which had come from him. He looked up sharply and saw something that had the bottom dropping out of his stomach.

There were two men standing before him. Well, one was standing and helping the other back to his feet, since Zuko had knocked him over in his headlong dash.

Zuko froze in shock. Where had they come from? He had thought this city was abandoned! The way it looked and smelled—he was sure that no one had lived here in many years.

The men were looking at him now, frowning. Zuko felt uneasy at the suspicion in their narrowed eyes.

“Hey, kid, where’d you come from?” one of them asked, looking around like he thought someone else might jump out and slam into him like Zuko had.

Zuko didn’t answer. He could hardly breathe, let alone speak.

“What are you doing here, boy?” the other man demanded. When Zuko still didn’t answer, he reached for him as though to grab his arm. Zuko flinched and stepped back. He had to get out of here. He had to go find—

There was a soft growl behind him. Zuko’s heart sank as he watched the two men’s jaws drop and eyes go wide at what they saw behind him. They had been safe for so long, and now Druk had been seen. How could he have let this happen? He was supposed to protect his little brother and he had failed.

He would still do everything he could to let Druk get away safely. He half turned to keep the men in his field of view while catching the young dragon’s eye to signal for Druk to run. He would stay behind to hold the men off. He may not be able to win against two adult warriors, but he would keep them busy as long as he could so his family could be safe.

Druk whimpered, and Zuko turned his head to look back, suddenly worried that there may be more men in the area, who had perhaps come up behind them. His eyes found his brother, crouching in the shadow of a building, the young dragon’s body a tense arc, ears and whiskers laid back in fear and worry.

Zuko realized that he had made a mistake by taking his eyes off of the two men in front of him when he felt a large, strong hand grab his upper arm, unluckily in the same spot that his father always gripped when Zuko needed correction. He flinched again and struck out wildly, his training abandoning him in a moment of panic. He heard Druk raise his voice in a high-pitched cry of alarm.

The man let go of Zuko then, more out of surprise than from Zuko’s efforts to escape. Zuko wrestled his fear under control and placed himself directly between the men and his little brother, falling into a bending stance. He wished that Druk had listened to him when he told the young dragon to run. Nonetheless, he would fight until there was no breath in his body to defend his brother.

One of the men put his empty hands up. “Hey kid, we don’t want to hurt you—or the dragon.”

Zuko growled. He didn’t believe that for a second. Neither man carried visible weapons, so he had pegged them as firebenders. And there was nothing stopping them from trying to kill Druk and earn the title of Dragon—nothing but Zuko.

“You don’t have to be afraid—” the man continued, but he got no farther. An enormous shadow passed over the standoff, followed by an unearthly roar.

Suddenly, the adult dragons were there, shaking the ground with their landing. The blue dragon curled around Druk, hiding him from the sight of the men, and the red dragon put Zuko between his forelegs, neck arched and glaring down at the two men threatening their children. Zuko felt powerfully relieved that their parents had come for them.

The men cried out in fear, throwing themselves upon the ground and prostrating themselves before the wrath of the parental predators. The red dragon, satisfied with this display of awe and fear, did not hesitate before scooping up Zuko in his mouth. Zuko thought he heard another shout from the men as the giant jaws closed around him, but he no longer cared. He knew that the blue dragon would be chivvying Druk into the air, and together they would escape. He and Druk were safe—for now.

The dragons winged back to the nest in the split peak mountain and curled around their children. Zuko submitted to both adults’ examinations of him, checking to be sure he was sound and whole. Druk, predictably, was less patient with his parents’ concern, trying to wriggle away even as they looked him over.

Having ascertained that their children were well, the adults each licked both of them several times and then coiled around them tightly in the nest, ignoring completely Zuko’s entreaties to leave, to fly away before the men could find them again. Zuko instead found himself tucked up against the side of the blue dragon’s neck, sinking back into the fur of its ruff, stroking Druk’s head lying in his lap in an attempt to calm himself.

Now that the initial fear and panic had subsided, Zuko could contemplate what had just happened with a clear mind. It was painfully obvious to him that this situation his family now faced was his fault. If he had waited even one day to explore the ruins of the ancient city, or if he had checked the area as he should have, he would have known that there were humans around. Instead, he and Druk had dashed off at first light, eager to explore somewhere new. And now, because of Zuko’s carelessness, they were all in danger.

Now that two men knew that there was a family of dragons nearby, how long until word spread? How long before the challengers began coming to kill his family and claim the title of Dragon? Zuko shuddered at the thought. The blue dragon felt his unease and rumbled soothingly to him. It did little to ease his mind.

He would fight. He would fight until his last breath to protect Druk.

Zuko woke to the sound of a horn resounding through the cave. He tensed immediately. This was it, the humans coming to kill the dragons. He gently moved Druk’s yawning head off his lap and stood, stoking his chi, ready to defend with fire.

The adults were also awake, but they did not seem worried. The red dragon had stretched the length of its body towards the top of the cave, and Zuko realized that it was looking through an aperture at whatever was out there. He immediately began to scale the cave wall to have a look for himself.

Finding room to peek out alongside his parent’s giant head, Zuko scanned the area. It took him a moment to get over the surprise that there wasn’t a horde of humans outside massing to storm the cave. In fact, he could see only one.

The man climbing the steep, ancient staircase between the split peaks was neither of the two that had startled Zuko and Druk this morning. He carried a flame in his cupped hands.

When he reached the top of the staircase, he took a horn from the loop on his belt and sounded it again. Then he bowed to the setting sun, offering up the flame in his hands to Agni’s light.

Suddenly, the red dragon left its vantage point and launched itself to the entrance of the cave. Zuko noticed then that the blue dragon had gone, and Druk was scrambling and flapping his way up the side of the cave to join Zuko at the aperture. Before Zuko could wonder what was going on, he caught sight of the red and blue dragons as they each flew out from the entrances at the two peaks, roaring.

There was a moment where Zuko had the horrible thought that he was about to watch a man be burned alive by dragonfire. Two adult dragons against one man? It could not end well for the man.

But what if the man had backup? What if there were others hiding in the rocks, waiting for the dragons to reveal themselves so they could ambush them? Zuko bit his lip as he buried one hand in the fur of Druk’s ruff, holding on. Whatever the outcome, he could not tear his eyes away from the scene.

That’s when he noticed that the dragons were flying in a very familiar pattern, and the man had begun to move. With fire in both hands, he danced with the two dragons, following the same pattern that the dragons had first taught Zuko and Druk.

The dragons knew him, Zuko realized. The man was a friend. Zuko felt some of the tension leave his body. Thank Agni that this encounter did not have to come to violence.

The dance ended with three jets of flame punching into the air, golden and warm, and then the blue dragon was beside Zuko and Druk, nudging them from their vantage point out onto the walkway between the split peaks.

The tension in Zuko that had fled at realizing they were safe came flooding back as soon as the boy realized what their parent wanted. He felt a dread of meeting this man that he couldn’t explain. He knew the man was a friend. Both adults had confirmed it. He knew that they would not expose him or Druk to danger. So why was his stomach twisting itself into knots?

Druk bounded out ahead of him, and the awe and reverence on the man’s face at seeing the baby dragon was easy for Zuko to recognize, as he still sometimes felt that way about Druk even after so many months together. The man reached out to the young dragon, but Druk didn’t seem to be too eager to allow himself to be touched. He sniffed at the man, circling him just out of reach, both excited and confused. Zuko almost had to laugh. This was the first time Druk had ever encountered any human other than Zuko—well, apart from the two men they had run into this morning—and he was clearly curious.

Zuko sobered when he realized that this was also the first man he had met in over a year and a half.

Druk finally allowed the man to pat his nose a few times, then sneezed on him. Luckily, he didn’t blow any sparks.

Zuko stiffened when he felt a broad muzzle nosing his back, nudging him forward from where he was hiding behind the blue dragon’s body. His stomach flipped and he swallowed hard. He didn’t understand why his heart was pounding so fast. He must truly be the coward his father had always said he was to be afraid of one man who had offered him no harm while surrounded by protective dragons. He felt a spark of anger at himself and his irrational weakness, which was enough to get him to straighten up and walk forward.

Up close, the man was tall and broad. He was muscled like a warrior. He was garbed in what appeared to be a ceremonial headdress, vambraces and shin guards. Though his chest was bare, he was wearing a robe and wrap of fine cotton and a collar and belt of gold. The upper part of his face above the bridge of his nose was painted red, with a line of white over his cheekbones.

Zuko felt a sudden stab of shame standing next to this well-dressed man. By comparison, Zuko knew that he must look like a feral street urchin. The clothes he had been wearing when marooned were long gone due to hard wear and tear, living as he did with dragons in the wild. He had salvaged what scraps of his old clothes he could to fashion a loincloth for himself so that he wasn’t completely naked, but it was a pitiful, poorly constructed thing that was little more than a rag. His hair had grown long and choppy, as he had only the Earth Kingdom knife to style it with, and he did not have a mirror to help shave it back to a phoenix tail. Thank Agni his father could not see him now; Zuko could just imagine the disgusted curl of his lip at the very sight of him. Fire Lord Ozai would probably strip Zuko of his rank for not conducting himself as befits a prince of the Fire Nation.

Or, he would if Zuko weren’t already banished in disgrace.

The man before him did not appear to be disgusted though. Instead, he smiled kindly at Zuko. “Hello, child of the Masters Ran and Shaw,” the man said formally. “I am Chief Tezao of the Sun Warriors. What may I call you?”

Zuko was frozen. The man’s politeness only emphasized that he was a respectable leader, and Zuko was standing before him as a ragamuffin in rags, banished and disgraced. His mind had gone blank and his tongue had bailed on him. He couldn’t bring to mind a single polite greeting for a man of his stature, which was truly pathetic. He had only been taught etiquette since he was barely out of diapers, and a few years in the wild and he’d forgotten every formality his tutors had drilled into him. His father was right, he was so stupid that he had forgotten that which used to be second nature to him. Azula would never have been tongue-tied in front of a chieftan, that’s for sure.

Chief Tezao was beginning to frown. “Can you understand me?” he asked slowly. Great, now the chief thought Zuko was a simpleton. Though maybe Zuko was a simpleton, because he was still trying to force his tongue to say the first words he had spoken to another human in more than a year.

The chief slowly extended his open hand to Zuko, accentuating his movements so that the boy could see what he intended to do. Zuko still flinched back before the man could lay a hand on his shoulder. The man frowned again, and Zuko winced. He shouldn’t have done that. Father had never liked it when Zuko tried to avoid him.

“Are you all right?” the chief asked. Zuko realized that his breathing was starting to come fast. His eyes darted around, looking for what, he didn’t know—perhaps something to reassure him, or perhaps an escape—and his gaze landed on Druk. His little brother was standing behind the chief, under the red dragon’s arched neck, and he was watching Zuko. His back was arched a little, his whiskers and ears pressed back. Druk could see that Zuko was scared, and Zuko’s fear was making him afraid as well.

Zuko steeled himself and forcefully slammed the door shut on the part of his mind that just wanted to run and hide. He had to be brave for his brother. He had to show him there was nothing to fear.

He straightened up and looked back at the chief, seeing the concern in the man’s eyes.

“I’m Zuko,” he said, voice hoarse and raspy. He rarely spoke aloud around the dragons. His own name felt strange in his mouth, echoed oddly in his ears.

The man smiled at him. “Well met, Zuko, child of dragons,” he said. “Welcome to the island of the Sun Warriors.” Then he bowed.

Zuko scrambled to return the bow. He automatically put his hands together to make the sign of the flame, but when he straightened back up, he realized that the chief hadn’t done the same. He hoped he hadn’t already made some sort of diplomatic misstep.

The chief invited Zuko to come and visit his village the following day, and offered to return two hours after sunrise to guide him there. Zuko managed to nod.

It wasn’t until the chief was leaving that Zuko suddenly realized—

—Did he say the Sun Warriors??

Living on the island of the Sun Warriors was another big adjustment for Zuko, the first step of which was overcoming the surprise that the ancient civilization was not dead as so many thought, but still surviving in the hidden valleys among the mountains of the island. The tribe had abandoned the city long ago to perpetuate the myth of their disappearance. Now they were keeping alive the old traditions of firebending—and keeping the secret of the last surviving dragons.

Zuko was relieved to know that the Sun Warriors revered the dragons and would never think to harm them, nor allow anyone else to kill them. He was also glad to finally hear that the red and blue dragons were named Ran and Shaw, respectively. He hadn’t felt right naming them himself—they were his parents, after all.

Zuko was learning so much. Apparently, dragon eggs could go dormant under just the right temperature and light controls. The cave on the island where Zuko was marooned had provided the right conditions for Druk’s egg to remain dormant. It had only hatched because Zuko had warmed it with his fire. Ran and Shaw periodically checked on the egg, but other than that, they left it alone, which is why it took them several days to return and find their baby.

Zuko had felt bad that it was his fault that Druk had hatched too soon and could have died as a result, but Chief Tezao had a different view of things.

“The Masters were waiting for a sign from Agni for the right time to hatch their egg,” Chief Tezao told Zuko. Before Zuko could protest again that he had clearly messed things up, the chief continued, “Then Agni guided you to the egg and showed you what to do. That day, Agni blessed the dragons with not one hatchling, but two. Fortunate indeed are the Masters, who were patient and trusted in Agni, the provider of life.”

Zuko didn’t understand what was so fortunate about getting saddled with taking care of a teenage outcast of a different species in addition to your own, wanted child, but he didn’t want to seem rude by arguing with the chief.

But the thing was, the dragons didn’t seem to consider Zuko a burden or as someone who didn’t fit in with their family. After a few days of daily visits to the village, he had the devastating thought that the dragons had brought him here to return him to his own kind. He thought, though with no real evidence to support this assumption, that the dragons wanted to be done with him. After coming to this realization, he tried to do what he thought they wanted, and remained in the village that night, away from the nest. He unfortunately was still too uncomfortable to ask any of the families to let him stay with them, so he had made himself a sad little bed of packed earth and soft ferns under a bush on the edge of the village and tried to tell himself that he would get over being lonely again.

This course of action had resulted in mass panic when both Ran and Shaw descended upon the village—something they never did—to look for their missing fledgling. Embarrassed that his misstep had caused so much chaos, Zuko told the villagers that he had lost track of time and fell asleep accidentally. After that, all the villagers were very conscious of the hour and made sure to send Zuko back to the nest in plenty of time before sundown. Zuko always went, embarrassed but a little relieved at this proof that his parents weren’t actually trying to get rid of him.

That was another thing—everyone in the village took it for granted that Zuko was the Masters’ child. Not one single person had so much as asked him about his real family. As far as they were concerned, he may as well have hatched out of an egg alongside Druk. Zuko appreciated this, as it allowed him to continue to pretend, even to himself, that he wasn’t a prince of the Fire Nation, with responsibilities and owed loyalty.

But hiding from his destiny could never last. While he was with the dragons in their nest near the Western Air Temple, he’d had no choice but to stay with them. He had no boat, no way to leave the island to continue his quest, and he had no real way of asking the dragons to fly him to the nearest Earth Kingdom shore and drop him off. So he had put his hunt for the Avatar out of his mind and concentrated instead on learning to hunt game, fish, and firebend, which he convinced himself that he would need to learn anyway in order to capture the Avatar. He was still working towards his goal. Kind of.

Now, among people again, back in society, the specter of his unfulfilled mission loomed much closer. For weeks, he had been joining the other young men and women in combat training, so when his focus shifted to learning to handle the canoes and navigation, Chief Tezao noticed and took him aside to ask him about it.

Zuko fidgeted with the fabric of the wrap that the chief had gifted him with the morning the man had returned to the split peak to lead Zuko to the village. “I’m not trying to run away,” he told Chief Tezao. “I just have…things I need to do.”

The man studied Zuko. “Things that are more important than what you are doing now?” he asked.

Zuko frowned in confusion. “But I’m not doing anything now.”

“You are learning. Growing.” Zuko snorted. “You are teaching your little brother all you have learned,” the chief continued, and Zuko looked down. “What will Druk do if you go away?”

“He has his parents,” Zuko muttered.

“That is so. But he has always had you as well. Do you think he will understand why you are leaving him?”

Zuko fidgeted. “He’ll miss me for a while, I guess. But,” he said and looked up at the chief, “I have responsibilities. I can’t just shirk them.”

Chief Tezao raised an eyebrow. “You hatched Druk. You have helped raise him his whole life. Do you not also have a responsibility to him?”

Zuko bit his lip, unsure. When put that way, Zuko supposed he did have a responsibility to Druk. But did that outweigh his other responsibilities?

“What about,” Zuko swallowed hard. “What about my responsibility to my nation? And—and to my birth family?”

Chief Tezao appeared calm and unsurprised, though Zuko had never mentioned his human family before, not once. “Of what responsibility do you speak?” he asked.

Zuko straightened. “The Fire Lord has tasked me with a mission. If I complete it then I—” he quailed a little, but it had to be said. The chief had to know of his shame to fairly judge him. “—then my honor will be restored, after I showed him such disrespect and weakness. Then my banishment will be ended, and I can go home.”

The chief was quiet for a long time, and Zuko had to fight against the urge to cringe. He knew it sounded bad. Who would want to harbor an honorless exile? Probably not Chief Tezao.

“You were banished?” the chief finally asked, and Zuko nodded, heart sinking. He hoped that the chief would allow him to finish learning how to navigate before kicking him off the island. “How did you come to be banished?”

Zuko tried to swallow around his dry throat. “I showed grave disrespect to the Fire Lord. Then, in the Agni Kai, I showed weakness by refusing to fight.” Zuko would leave out the part where the Fire Lord was his father. The Sun Warriors had no love for Fire Lord Sozin or his descendants, as they had been the ones to turn dragon hunting into a sport.

“How old are you, son?” the chief asked.

Zuko thought a moment. “I’m fifteen.”

“And the dragons took you in how long ago now?”

“It’s been almost two years.”

“So you were thirteen when this Agni Kai happened.” Zuko nodded. “And the Fire Lord banished you, a thirteen-year-old?”

Zuko felt the heat rising in his face as he nodded again. “I dishonored myself,” he whispered. He cleared his throat. He knew how bad that sounded. At only thirteen, he was already so weak and useless and disrespectful that the Fire Lord, his own father, had to banish him to remove the stain of his dishonor from the royal family. Even without knowing that Zuko was a prince, Chief Tezao must have a poor opinion of him after learning of this.

A flash of something that Zuko was pretty sure was anger crossed the chief’s face, and he opened his mouth to say something before shutting it again with a snap. Zuko thought he could hear the man’s teeth grinding. Zuko inched back, wondering if the chief would grab him and drag him out of the village now, or if he would master his temper and simply tell him to leave and not come back.

The chief, however, did neither of those things. Instead, he asked, “What is the task that the Fire Lord has given you to do?”

Zuko gulped. “I must capture the Avatar.”

There was another long, dreadful pause, during which Zuko couldn’t make himself meet the chief’s gaze that was boring right through him.

“Son,” he said slowly, carefully, reining in his temper, “the Avatar has been gone for a hundred years.”

“I know,” Zuko whispered. “But I can find him.” He had to believe it was possible. Otherwise, he would never regain his honor. “It’s my only way home.”

This was followed by the longest silence yet. Zuko did not look up from his hands. He was not sure he wanted to see the disappointment in the chief’s face, not after the man had been so kind to him. So Zuko was surprised when he felt a large hand come to rest gently on his shoulder. He looked up and was surprised again to see something like pity, or perhaps sorrow, in the man’s expression.

“The Avatar is the bridge between the worlds,” he said slowly. “If it is indeed your destiny to find him, you will learn of it in the Spirit World.”

Zuko startled. “The Spirit World? You want me to—to go there?” The chief nodded. Zuko frowned. He knew almost nothing of the Spirit World except that it was supposed to be exceptionally difficult to enter for anyone besides the Avatar. But he had to admit that the chief was right. There may be a clue to the Avatar’s whereabouts there. It was certainly worth a shot, since Zuko had no idea where to even start his search.

The solstice was selected for Zuko’s trip to the Spirit World, as that was when the barrier between the worlds would be thinner and easier to traverse. That left Zuko with just over a week to cram in as much training as he could with the shaman of the Sun Warriors for what to expect from the spirits.

When the morning of the solstice arrived, Zuko made his way to the ancient ritual chamber at the top of the highest pyramid in the ruins of the city, heart pounding more from nerves than the climb. The shaman, the chief, and the Masters were waiting for him there. The chief anointed Zuko’s body with a smelly herbal paste, while the shaman chanted in a dead language.

Zuko knew the ritual was meant mostly to get him in the right headspace and spiritual space to slip into meditation and access the Spirit World, but he didn’t really find it that helpful. He supposed that one week was probably not enough time to learn for it to be useful to him. What was much more helpful was the part that Ran and Shaw would play.

The shaman and the chief backed away. Ran then breathed a jet of flame to light the brazier set in the middle of the chamber. Zuko settled before it and felt himself relax, heart slowing, surrounded as he was by his parents watching over him. The Masters both inhaled deeply and breathed upon their child.

The room was immediately filled with the scent of smoke and incense. Zuko relaxed further, breathing deeply, allowing the flames before him to draw his gaze into their depths. He could feel himself descending into meditation faster than he ever had before. His eyes slipped shut.

It was hours later before his eyes opened again to the physical world, brimming with tears and full of a knowledge that would leave him forever changed.

Chapter Text

They were all gonna die.

Sokka’s calling it now. Actually, to be more accurate, Sokka called it hours ago when they first set off on this insane mission. And they weren’t even being shot at by a Fire Nation Navy blockade at the time.

Sokka couldn’t do anything but hang on to the saddle with all of his might as Appa and Aang executed aerial maneuvers that rivaled anything he’d seen Druk do. Sokka had a sudden appreciation for why Zuko was so damn strong—he didn’t even have a saddle to help him hold on when Druk did flips. Not that Appa was doing flips—yet—but he was dodging for all he was worth while heading higher and higher to get above the clouds, which would hopefully give them cover.

Sokka wasn’t feeling too optimistic. He’d never had the best of luck and this whole venture was cursed from the start, when he got kidnapped by a vengeful spirit—totally not his fault, Katara, he went outside to help—and Aang had to trade an acorn for his freedom.

Tui and La, he hoped that they all made it through this intact.

As soon as they got a layer of cloud cover between them and their attackers, Sokka began to inch closer to Katara. He wanted to be close enough to grab her if need be. But he miscalculated. He had only one hand gripping the saddle—the other outstretched toward his sister—when Appa pulled up with a roar, narrowly avoiding a fireball that would have exploded in the bison’s face. The sudden jolt loosened Sokka’s grip, and all of a sudden, he was completely airborne.

There was a moment of confusion where Sokka was surrounded by fog and his stomach hadn’t quite realized what had happened yet, and then he broke through the clouds and saw the ocean rushing up to meet him, and his insides flipped as gravity fully took hold.

Sokka heard screaming and wasn’t sure if it was coming from Aang, Katara, or himself. He had to fight against the rushing air to keep his streaming eyes open, but he couldn’t close them if he wanted to, transfixed by the sight of his own doom headed right for him in a dark wall of endless water.

He was actually, really going to die, wasn’t he?

La have mercy. Sokka had whined that this trip would be the death of him, but he hadn’t really believed that. He couldn’t go out now! What would Katara and Aang do without him around to make the plans and remind them how hungry they were?

The sea was now very close, and Sokka, having turned himself upside down with his flailing, was probably going to slam into it head first. He winced, anticipating the pain of hitting the water. Wait a minute…Was that—his shadow on the water? If so, why were there two of them?

Strong arms wrapped around Sokka’s chest. “Hold on!” someone shouted in his ear, and in his panic to obey, it took Sokka a moment to realize that was Zuko’s voice.

The weight of Zuko’s body leveled them out so they were no longer falling headfirst, but facedown. Sokka felt a burst of heat and then they were moving, gliding parallel to the waves and then gradually tilting up, up until they were upright and—

—Holy hippo cow, they were flying! Sokka glanced down to see a jet of flame issuing from Zuko’s feet with such force that it was propelling the both of them through the air. He could barely believe his eyes. He knew that Zuko was raised by dragons, but he had no idea that he could actually fly like them!

Sokka was so busy being amazed that he almost missed seeing that Appa had also dived after them and had drawn close enough to catch them, so he had barely a half second to brace himself before he and Zuko were crashing into the saddle.

“Oof,” Sokka grunted as the weight of all of Zuko’s muscles landed on top of him, driving the air from his lungs. But hey, Sokka wasn’t going to complain if Zuko was using those muscles to save his butt from certain death.

They weren’t out of the woods yet though. It was several more death-defying minutes and narrow misses before Aang finally wind-kicked the last fireball out of their path and they were through the blockade and heading for higher altitudes.

“Zuko!” Aang tried scrambling from his perch on the bison’s head into the saddle, clearly intent on hugging the life out of their feral firebender, but a little tired and woozy from all the excitement. Zuko obliged him by hauling him bodily over the edge of the basket, where Aang was finally able to wrap his arms around the older boy in what was more of a glomp than a hug. “I’m so glad you came!”

Sokka smirked. “Yeah, thanks for the save, buddy. Woo, that could have been really bad!”

Katara, seeing that Aang wasn’t going to let go of Zuko anytime soon to give her her turn, moved in to hug them both, and so Sokka thought oh why not and crowded in to make it a full group hug. He felt Zuko’s chuckle more than heard it, a slight shaking of his shoulders and a warm breath brushing against Sokka’s forehead.

Surprisingly, it was Katara who broke the hug first, but apparently only because she wanted to turn around and transfer the hug to Sokka. “Please be careful,” she whispered as she made a credible attempt at displacing all of his internal organs. Sokka felt a cold stone drop into his belly at the reminder that he almost died. He wrapped his arms around his little sister and for once held her until she pulled away first.

Sokka glanced over to find Aang still glommed onto Zuko, his face hidden in Zuko’s chest. The older boy was rubbing his trembling back and whispering something Sokka couldn’t hear in his ear. Sokka’s throat felt tight. He couldn’t imagine the relief Aang must be feeling to have Zuko with them on this dangerous mission that had already almost claimed one of his friends’ lives. They had all come to rely on the older boy for his steadfast strength and greater experience, but none more so than Aang, who seemed to view Zuko as the older brother he never had. When Aang was showing off his power and skill like he had today, it was easy to forget that he was just a kid—a kid who wanted someone wise to guide him and strong to protect him, someone who could help shoulder the weight of the world on his skinny shoulders. And even though Zuko was still a kid himself, he was the closest thing Aang had left to what he needed.

As Aang finally calmed, Sokka cleared his throat. “Zuko, where’s Druk?”

Their feral firebender raised his head and looked around, then let forth a shrill, whistling call. An answering call resounded back to them, and Sokka glimpsed a flash of red in the sky.

“I rode Druk out here, but when I saw you had run into the blockade, I didn’t want to take him in closer to Appa,” Zuko explained. “Too many fireballs and too big a risk of soldiers seeing him. But then I saw you go overboard, so I jumped after you.”

Sokka shook his head in disbelief. He just jumped off a flying dragon into thin air hundreds of feet above the ocean, like it was nothing. Sometimes Sokka forgot that Zuko was completely crazy.

“What made you change your mind about coming?” Katara asked, her smile showing that she didn’t hold his initial refusal to help against him.

“After you left, I heard about the blockade,” Zuko said. “I wanted to warn you before you ran into it, but I was too late.”

“Are you going to go back with Druk then?” Aang asked, voice small, but Zuko immediately shook his head.

“No, I’m coming with you,” Zuko said, lowering his face to nuzzle Aang’s bald head. “Most of those soldiers saw me catch Sokka, so they’ll be looking for me now. May as well stick around to help you guys out.”

“What about Druk?” Sokka asked, remembering Zuko’s concern over taking his little brother into the Fire Nation.

“Druk will stay back, with Appa, away from the temple,” Zuko said with a sigh. “That will have to be safe enough, for now.”

But Sokka could tell that Zuko was still worried, despite his words.

Sokka’s idea to open the doors to the inner sanctum of the temple with fake firebending totally would have worked, okay? But Zuko really had a point when he said that they could only attempt opening the doors once, since the noise would bring anyone in the temple down on their heads. So they should try using real firebending first, since that was much more likely to work.

It still felt good that Zuko agreed that Sokka should prepare the oilskin bombs, just in case, while he snuck back down to the beach to fetch his “backup.”

Shyu, the sole Fire Sage that was still loyal to the Avatar, was still confused about Zuko’s plan. “I agree with your friend that each of us could handle two of the mechanisms,” he said as he paced, “but that still leaves the fifth lock. Avatar, if you have not yet learned firebending, who else can he find who can do this?”

Aang grinned, a bit mischievously. “Oh, don’t worry about that, Sage Shyu. Zuko isn’t the only firebender in our group. We just left a couple members out of all the excitement so they can rest safely.” Sokka could tell that Aang was gleefully anticipating seeing the look on Shyu’s face when he caught sight of Druk for the first time. Sokka was looking forward to it himself.

Shyu startled at Aang’s response. “Did you say…Zuko? Is that the name of your firebender?”

“Oh! We never introduced ourselves!” Aang hopped up and down a little, probably pleased that he was making a new friend, the little menace. “I’m Aang, and that’s Sokka, of the Southern Water Tribe. Katara is his sister,” he pointed out Katara keeping watch at the window, “and Zuko is our firebending friend!”

“Our feral firebending friend,” Sokka corrected him as he tied off another oilskin. Alliteration was important to him, okay?

Aang frowned a little. “Zuko’s not that bad. Let’s not give Shyu the wrong impression.”

Sokka snorted. “Actually, he kinda is that bad. I’ve seen him inside an actual dwelling exactly once in all the time we’ve known him and it was the most uncomfortable I’ve seen anyone since Katara asked our dad where babies come from.”

“I will freeze all your jerky if you’re telling embarrassing stories about me!” Katara called from her place at the window. Sokka waited until her back was turned to stick his tongue out at her, even though he was pretty sure she couldn’t freeze his tongue from this distance. Better safe than sorry, as he always said. Well, as he sometimes—occasionally said.

“Where do babies come from?” Aang asked, all wide-eyed innocence. Sokka whirled on him, mouth agape in disbelief, before he caught the twinkle in Aang’s eye and the tiny smirk the kid couldn’t quite suppress.

“Haha, Aang, very funny. You know the answer to that.”

Aang giggled. “Of course I do. Everyone knows that babies are delivered by cranefish.”

Sokka squinted at Aang, not sure whether the kid was having him on again. Knowing Aang, he was naïve enough to believe that.

“Do you know…is Zuko…” Shyu interrupted haltingly, clearly still stuck on the topic of the feral firebender. “…How did you meet him?” he finally finished, sounding unsure if that was the question he actually wanted to ask.

Sokka opened his mouth to regale the Fire Sage with the tale of how he, Sokka, had bravely and singlehandedly saved the Avatar’s poor lemur from being devoured by a terrible firebending beast and the beast’s dastardly master, when Katara rudely interrupted him.

“Hey guys, come look; there’s a boat just offshore,” she said, voice a bit shaky.

Sokka hopped up immediately to go to her, followed by Aang and Shyu. “Where?”

Katara pointed. “I can’t see it well from this angle, just the prow beyond that outcropping of rock, see? It might have been there for a while now and I missed it,” she said, voice trembling a little. Sokka put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“It’s a Fire Nation Navy ship,” said a familiar, raspy voice behind them.

Sokka turned to see Zuko had returned. The older boy swept off the hood he had insisted on wearing to hide his face from any Fire Sages they might run into, so Sokka was able to see the grim frown he wore.

Then something moved in the dim light just beyond Zuko, and Druk emerged from the hidden tunnel entrance.

Shyu gasped. Even Sokka, who was well used to traveling with Druk by now, could admit that here in this temple, in a room lined with statues of his kin, the young dragon looked particularly impressive. But Shyu looked as though he were near tears.

“Agni above,” the man whispered, a hand coming up to cover his mouth in his shock, and Sokka remembered that this may be the first time Shyu had ever seen a live dragon, as dragons had long been thought to be extinct. For a Fire Sage especially, given the spiritual connection dragons held to the Fire Nation and firebending, this meeting would be sacred.

“How did…Where did you find—” Shyu stammered. Then he finally tore his eyes away from Druk and took a good look at Zuko. Sokka was surprised when Shyu let out a shocked sob at the sight of him, a tear finally escaping his eye. “Oh! My lord—!”

Zuko’s frown deepened. “We don’t have time for this. I saw a landing craft launching from the ship as I crossed the beach. This temple will be swarming with soldiers in minutes. They must have managed to follow us from the blockade.” He placed a hand on Druk’s neck and started to steer him toward the locked door. “Let’s get into position.”

Shyu, to his credit, wiped his face and quickly composed himself, then stepped up to the door, positioning himself in front of the two locks on the right. Zuko then brought Druk to the center lock, and he took the two on the left.

“Avatar Aang,” Shyu said, “Opening the doors will be loud. The Fire Sages and the soldiers cannot fail to hear it. As soon as they are open, you must go inside and lock yourself in.”

Aang looked anxious. “But, the soldiers—”

“We’ll hold them off, Aang,” Zuko said. “We’ll buy you the time you need to contact Avatar Roku.” Aang finally nodded, biting his lip.

Zuko counted them down, and simultaneously, all three firebenders unleashed their flame. Shyu had the arm span to punch fire with both fists into the two locks he was nearest. Zuko, however, was a bit smaller. He solved the problem handily by doing this cool combination punch and spinning kick thing that shot fire from one fist and his foot. Sokka was going to have to ask the guy to teach him the non-bending version of that.

With an echoing clunk, the door mechanism unlocked and swung open. Aang was through the door in a heartbeat, and Zuko was right behind him to push the doors back shut.

And it was not a moment too soon. Sokka could hear heavy, armor-shod footsteps coming up the stairs.

Zuko pressed his face to Druk’s and whispered a command, and Druk took off to hide above the colonnade in the dark shadows gathered around the ceiling.

“My lord,” Shyu said to Zuko, “You should go as well. If they find you here—”

Sokka suddenly remembered that Zuko was banished by the Fire Lord. He swallowed hard. What would they do to him if he was captured?

But Zuko was already shaking his head. “The three of you can’t hold off that many soldiers by yourselves.”

“Against so many, you will not make much of a difference,” Shyu said. “Please, my lord, do not allow them to take you,” he begged Zuko, and what was up with this ‘my lord’ business? Shyu looked upon Zuko with wonder as he continued, “When I learned the Avatar had returned to the world, I found the hope that the war would soon be ended. Today, when I saw you alive with your young dragon—I found my faith that the Fire Nation could be healed and made anew.”

In a flash, Sokka suddenly understood. Shyu recognized Zuko. Not only that, but Zuko was somebody important. He looked at Zuko and saw his eyes were wide with shock—or as wide as they could get anyway, with the scar permanently marring one.

But even as Sokka watched, Zuko shook himself and drew himself up. “I won’t just abandon you all here. Besides, there’s no easy exit for Druk. We’ll have to fight our way through, together.”

Shyu actually bowed to Zuko, as low as he had bowed to Aang earlier. Zuko looked pained. “Please don’t,” he murmured, so low that Sokka almost didn’t hear him. “I’m not the one you want.”

Movement on the stairs caught Sokka’s eye. Long shadows were moving closer, almost upon them.

“Soldiers!” Sokka called out as he drew his boomerang. Zuko stepped up beside him, falling into a bending stance. Katara and Shyu moved to shore up their little line of defense.

The fight was short, but brutal. Katara was taken down quickly, and Sokka soon followed her when he tried to come to her rescue. Shyu and Zuko managed to hold out for longer, but too soon Shyu failed to block a strike and was overwhelmed.

Zuko was left to fight on alone. Sokka had never seen him fight like this, all out against a dozen fully armed and armored soldiers. It was incredible how precisely and quickly he was able to bend. But in the end, he was still just one man, and he wasn’t even wearing armor.

It took four soldiers piling on top of him to subdue him, and in the end, he had to be chained separately to another pillar beside the one that Sokka was chained to with Katara and Shyu.

As soon as Zuko had been defeated, a combination of soldiers and Fire Sages stepped up to the door and blasted it with fire in an attempt to open it. The door didn’t budge.

“Why won’t it open?” one of the soldiers asked.

“It’s sealed shut,” one of the Sages said. “Avatar Roku doesn’t want us inside.”

Another Sage was confronting Shyu. “Why did you help the Avatar?” he spat in the man’s face. Sokka tried to kick him, but his legs were chained as securely as the rest of him. Which was very.

“Because it was once the Sages’ duty,” Shyu responded calmly. “It is still our duty.”

Sokka was sure that it was a bad sign that Shyu’s courageous pronouncement was met with a single slow clap. He craned his neck to see—

—Ah, turtle seal spit. It was Zhao.

The commander that had burned Kyoshi Island trying to capture Aang was standing at the head of yet another company of soldiers. Sokka felt like his stomach had turned to ice. Zhao was bad news. They had only encountered him the once, but they were aware that he had been looking for them since their first meeting.

“What a moving and heartfelt performance,” Zhao said, voice dripping with melodramatic insincerity. “I’m sure the Fire Lord will understand when you explain why you’ve betrayed him.”

His eyes roamed over Sokka and Katara, a sneer lifting his lip. “Well done, men. We have captured the Avatar’s companions and—what do we have here?” Suddenly his eyes widened, his mouth going slack for a moment in surprise. It was only a moment though, before his lips curled in a cruel smile.

“Well, well, well,” he said, advancing on Zuko, who was glaring right back at him. “Today I am fortunate indeed. I’ve caught not one traitor, but two.” Zhao cocked his head. “I see the rumors of your death were greatly exaggerated, Prince Zuko.”

Sokka froze, even as he heard Katara gasp beside him and murmuring start up among the soldiers. Prince? Zuko was a prince? Did that mean—?

When Zuko didn’t respond to Zhao’s taunting, he continued. “But what are you doing here, your highness? If I recall correctly, when he banished you, your father ordered you to capture the Avatar, not join him.” Zhao shook his head theatrically. “The Fire Lord always said he had one daughter and one disappointment.”

Holy hippo cow. Sokka’s head was reeling. Zuko was Prince Zuko. His weird, feral, fiery friend Zuko was the prince of the Fire Nation. Tui above, Zuko’s father was the Fire Lord. And what was that about Zuko being ordered to capture Aang??

“You may have abandoned your mission, your honor, and your loyalty to your nation, but no matter,” Zhao continued to expound. “I have the opportunity now to complete your mission and deliver the Avatar to the Fire Lord.”

“Too late for that, Zhao,” Zuko growled. “The Avatar’s inside the sanctum and the doors are sealed.”

“Yes,” Zhao said. “But sooner or later, he has to come out. Soldiers! Form a line. As soon as those doors open, I want you to unleash all your firepower on the Avatar.”

The soldiers moved to do as Zhao bid, and the commander turned back to Zuko.

“Do you see how outnumbered you are?” he said, leaning in close to Zuko so the boy had no choice but to meet his eye. “You can’t compete with me. I have hundreds of soldiers under my command and you—you’re just a banished prince. No home, no allies but these peasants. Your own father didn’t even want you. In his eyes, you are a failure and a disgrace to the Fire Nation. You have the scar to prove it.”

“Maybe you’d like one to match!” Zuko snarled.

“Is that a challenge?” Zhao asked, eyebrow raised.

“It’s sunset on the solstice,” Zuko retorted. “An excellent time for an Agni Kai.”

Zhao chuckled. “And what would be the point of dueling a coward who has already abandoned his honor? Other than to give my soldiers the pleasure of watching me humiliate you?” This time, Zhao’s laughter was joined by several others.

“No, I think I’ll leave disciplining you to your father. Perhaps he’ll continue what he started and give you another scar to match, on the right side of your face this time.”

Sokka felt sick. How could anyone be this cruel, taunting a boy half his age with maiming? And unless Sokka was very much mistaken, Zhao seemed to be saying that Zuko’s scar had come from his father. His own father had done that to him. And then apparently banished him. Zuko had once told him that he’d been banished for being a ‘political dissident.’ Sokka now had a feeling that that was a euphemism for something else entirely. What could have happened for him to be punished so horribly?

“Nothing to say to that?” Zhao said when Zuko did not respond. “I would say you’ve learned your lesson not to talk back to your elders and betters, but I somehow doubt that.” He turned his back on Zuko and his gaze found Sokka and Katara. Sokka tried hard not to tense up as Zhao started advancing on them instead. “I must say, Prince Zuko, I’m a bit surprised at your choice of allies. I would have thought even you would have better taste than a couple of Water Tribe peasants.”

Zhao reached for Katara, and Sokka strained forward against his chains even as Katara shrank back. “Is this one your girlfriend, Prince Zuko?” Zhao said, grabbing Katara’s jaw and tilting her head up. “What a shame. She’s not even pretty.”

Sokka felt like there was a roaring, raging fire in his chest. If he were a firebender, Zhao would have been incinerated where he stood, just from the heat in Sokka’s eyes. “Don’t you touch my sister!” he shouted, and then did the only thing he could do—he leaned forward as far as he could and bit the hand holding his little sister.

Zhao grunted in surprise and pain when he felt Sokka’s teeth sink into the skin between his forefinger and thumb. “You little—!” An open-handed hit delivered to Sokka’s left ear forced him to let go and left his head ringing.

Zhao scowled down at the bite mark on his hand, which unfortunately wasn’t bleeding. “I suppose I should have expected a Water Tribe peasant to act no better than an animal,” he growled. Okay, that was perhaps fair. Biting was a pretty uncivilized thing to do. Sokka had probably been hanging out with Zuko and Druk a little too much.

Suddenly there was a hard hand at Sokka’s throat, almost choking him. “That was rude,” Zhao told him. “How shall I teach you respect?” He grinned nastily. “It is wise to emulate the Fire Lord’s example in such matters, wouldn’t you agree, Prince Zuko?” Sokka suddenly became aware that Zuko, who had been cool as a cucumber cabbage this whole time, was now straining against the chains binding him, the expression on his face stricken. Sokka had a really bad feeling about what was going to happen next.

“Commander, don’t,” Zuko said, voice tight with what Sokka was pretty sure sounded like fear. “Don’t do this. He is an unarmed prisoner. It’s not honorable!”

“You are the last person who can lecture me about honor,” Zhao snapped. “Now watch your little friend learn the same lesson you did.”

Heart hammering, Sokka watched Zhao summon a flame in his hand. He understood all of a sudden what was about to happen.

Zhao was going to burn his face.

Katara had begun crying next to him, and Zuko was shouting something Sokka couldn’t make out through the pounding of his pulse in his ears. Sokka’s legs had turned to jelly. If it weren’t for the chains, he’s sure he wouldn’t be able to stand. He tried to wince away from the approaching flame, but between the stone pillar and the hand at his throat, he had nowhere to go. He could only squeeze his eyes shut as Zhao lifted the flame to his face.

He could feel the fire inches from his cheek. The heat caused beads of sweat to pop out on his skin. It already felt almost unbearable. He was breathing much too fast and every breath felt like his chest was burning as well.

Tui and La save him, please let him survive this. Please, Tui.

There was a great rush of air from above, and Sokka tensed as he thought that this was the start of his torture, but then the hand at his throat disappeared. The heat diminished.

There was a loud roar.

Sokka opened his eyes to pandemonium. Zhao was scrambling to right himself from where he had fallen ten feet away, and several other soldiers looked as though they had been flung about the room. The other soldiers were wild-eyed, struggling to bring their weapons up and get into some semblance of formation.

Druk was whirling about in the center of the room, lashing out with tail and teeth and flame at anyone getting too close to him.

Sokka heard Zuko screaming, yelling for Druk to go, to get away, but Sokka could already see that it was no good. There were too many soldiers, and they were quickly surrounding the young, inexperienced dragon. Someone managed to loop a chain around Druk’s hind leg, leashing him to a pillar. It was over quickly after that. Sokka heard Katara sob when they wrapped a chain around his neck and snout, muzzling and binding him. Sokka had to blink tears from his own eyes as well.

“Agni’s light—” Zhao murmured, awed, “—a dragon. A living dragon.” Then he laughed. “Prince Zuko, wherever did you find this specimen? It has been accepted as fact that your uncle General Iroh killed the last of their kind.” He walked around Druk, taking him in with a greedy glint to his eyes that made Sokka want to scratch them out. He stopped just behind Druk’s neck, then reached out and placed his hand on the dragon’s forehead. Druk shuddered and tried to thrash, but was chained down so tightly that he could not throw off the offending touch.

Sokka had never seen Zuko so furious. The boy roared wordlessly in anger, sparks and smoke issuing from his mouth. He strained against his own chains so hard that Sokka feared he would hurt himself.

Zhao chuckled. “It seems that General Iroh was wrong that the one he faced was the last. I think I have the actual last dragon right here.” He paused, a sick grin on his face. “Do you think the legends are true, that killing a dragon gives you their power?”

“You can’t—!” Zuko shouted, panicked.

“I don’t see what could possibly stop me,” Zhao said, still smiling. “And when I present the Fire Lord with this dragon’s head and the Avatar, he will honor me above all others. The last man to earn the title of Dragon in the Fire Nation.” He lifted his head, and Sokka saw the fanatic glint in his eye.

Zhao motioned to the nearest soldier, who handed over his sword.

“You’re the coward, Zhao,” Sokka shouted, face hot with anger and holding back tears. “Druk is a baby, not even close to fully grown, and you had two dozen men take him down! Is that what you call a fair fight? How brave of you to kill a baby animal that’s been tied up first!”

Zhao didn’t even appear to hear him. He laid the sword along Druk’s neck. Druk’s nostrils flared, his eye—so wide that Sokka could see a ring of white all around his iris—fixed on his older brother, searching for help, for reassurance. There was a cut just an inch to the side of his eye, the red blood almost invisible against Druk’s crimson scales.

Katara buried her face in Sokka’s shoulder, too horrified to look. Sokka wished he could hold her, comfort her, but being her shoulder to cry on was all he could do right now. And yet, it was more than Zuko was allowed to do for Druk. Sokka looked away from the downed dragon and wished he hadn’t. Zuko’s face was devastated. His eyes were locked on Druk’s, begging for his little brother to be all right, knowing that he wouldn’t. He would not look away from the only connection he had with his little brother as he died.

Sokka wanted to look away, to bury his face in Katara’s hair and hide, but he forced himself to keep watching. He would witness and not flinch away. He would be present for his friends. It was the only thing he could do for them.

So Sokka’s eyes were open when the room suddenly filled with bright, unearthly light.

Smoke billowed out from under the doors to the sanctum. Zhao immediately stood, barking orders to his men, who scrambled to obey, lining up in front of the door, falling into their firebending stances.

The giant doors began to creak open, and Sokka realized that Aang would be bouncing through them any minute—right into Zhao’s hands.

“Ready!” Zhao commanded. Sokka began struggling against the chains again, even though he knew it to be useless.

“No! Aang!” Katara screamed, just as Zhao gave the order to fire. Sokka watched nearly a dozen firebenders unleash jets of flame directly into the open door.

And then he watched as the fire swirled and parted, revealing a white-haired man with glowing eyes.

“Avatar Roku!” Shyu said in an awed voice.

And then the Avatar sent all that fire back out in a gout of flame the likes of which Sokka had never seen before. The soldiers were knocked off their feet. The back wall of the temple was blown out. Sokka expected to be burned alive, but curiously, the fire did not touch him or Katara or Shyu. Instead it seemed to melt their chains, turning them red hot before they broke and fell away.

The temple trembled, smoke and dust thick in the air. Sokka could hardly see a few feet in any direction. He sensed panicked soldiers and Fire Sages running for their lives.

“Avatar Roku is going to destroy the temple!” Shyu told them. “We have to get out of here!”

“Not without Aang!” Katara shouted.

Shyu shook his head and bolted. So much for loyalty to the Avatar.

Though Sokka was forced to revise his opinion of Shyu when Avatar Roku brought a gout of lava surging up from beneath the temple and bursting through the roof to rain down around them.

Yeah, Shyu probably had the right idea, Sokka thought as he threw himself bodily over his sister in an attempt to protect her.

But it seemed like that lava fountain was all Avatar Roku had left in him, because all of sudden he stopped. The wind picked up, sucking all the air as well as the smoke into the sanctum, and Aang was all that was left behind, eyes aglow with residual power.

Aang fell to his hands and knees, and Sokka dashed over to him, Katara by his side.

“We got your back, buddy,” he said to Aang as he helped the kid to his feet.

Aang groaned. “Thanks. Where’s Zuko?”

Sokka looked around, but neither Zuko nor Druk were anywhere to be found—only pieces of broken chains littering the ground where they had been bound.

Katara shook her head, biting her lip. “I don’t know. But we have to get out of here now.”

The three of them ran for the stairs, only to find a pool of lava quickly devouring them. A pillar crashed to the ground behind them, and Sokka definitely didn’t scream. That was Katara, surely. There was only one exit left—the hole in the wall that opened onto empty air. The three of them stood for a moment, at a loss for what to do. Aang could probably find a way down with his airbending, but he wouldn’t leave Sokka and Katara.

Just then, they heard a familiar lowing.

“Appa!” Aang called. “Over here!”

The bison had clearly already spotted them and was coming straight for them. Aang grabbed Katara’s hand and jumped out onto the roof, leaving Sokka to follow, which he did with all haste, even though sliding down the curve of the pagoda roof and launching himself into the air was giving him unfortunate mail chute vibes. They made it, probably more thanks to Appa than Sokka’s aim, thank La.

Finally clear of the crumbling temple, Sokka shouted, “We have to look for Zuko and Druk!”

Aang had no sooner turned Appa around than another explosion rocked the temple, the familiar orange flame and black smoke telling Sokka that this was at least partially the result of his oil bombs. Something came flying out of the new hole in the wall, and Aang cheered to see Druk twisting through the air, Zuko on his back.

“Oh thank Tui,” Sokka whispered as the dragon headed their way. Knowing that his friends had made it out left Sokka almost boneless with relief as the tension flowed out of him.

Only, something wasn’t right. Druk was heading their way, but he wasn’t slowing down. And it looked like he was on a trajectory to pass them, not meet them.

“Zuko!” Aang called when they were in earshot, but he received no answer. Instead, Druk flew silently by without even pausing.

As they passed, Sokka caught sight of the wet blood trickling down the dragon’s neck from the cut on his face. He looked at Zuko, and somehow caught the other boy’s eye.

He could see Zuko’s face for only a second as they passed, but it was enough to see his pain, his fear and grief.

Sokka watched Zuko and Druk disappear into the clouds with the terrible feeling that it would be a long time before he saw them again.