Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

▽

❝ Where there is anger, there is always pain underneath. ❞

Eckhart Tolle

▽

SHIA WATCHED FRIGID GLACIERS GLIDE PAST HER THROUGH DARK, deep water, undeterred by the wake of the iron boat as it ploughed through the current. Her breath misted the air in clouds of white, heated by the tea she'd been indulging in. It was cold in the South, unfathomably so, the sort of cold she'd never experienced further north in the Fire Nation. She'd adapted to it like a fish to water, though – it was the only option, seeing as she'd spent over two years trawling the world with her mentor, Iroh.

Iroh was in his later years, warm and soft, with arms that could embrace the world, merry eyes, a robust beard, and a nearly unhealthy admiration for tea. Hence why Shia was sampling some of the beverage now, seated to his right as the two of them watched his nephew standing at the bow of the ship.

Ah, yes. His nephew – Zuko, the prince of the Fire Nation, and the person for whom they were conducting this endless voyage. He was much like his element, fierce and filled with rage, fuelled by destruction. For the most part. He'd occasionally seem somewhat reasonable, maybe even calm, but those moments were few and far between (to be honest, they scared Shia more than his anger).

"Enjoying my tea, Shia? I used a new blend," Iroh smiled at his apprentice. She broke out of her reverie and nodded, earning an even wider grin from the man. "Excellent! At least someone on this ship appreciates my brewing skills."

Shia stifled her laugh, and set the empty cup of tea down on the low table in front of them before sliding her faceplate into her helmet completely, concealing her face from view before anyone could look. Being a non-bender in the army was hard, but being a non-bender female with a foreign appearance even worse. Hence why the only person on the ship who knew her identity was Iroh, her revered mentor, and why she never revealed her countenance to anyone else. She didn't want to deal with the hazing she'd receive from the men aboard the ship if she were to reveal herself.

Besides, they'd all fallen for Iroh's elaborate story anyway. Something about her face being ruined in a battle, so terribly that a mere glance at her visage could stun armies. She thought that was a bit much, but his words had done the trick. The only downside was that she couldn't speak around other soldiers without giving herself away – and so, she was established as the terrifying non-bender soldier who had never been seen nor heard. Iroh's shadow. 

"... finally."

Shia glanced to her right at his words and saw that Zuko had turned to address them for the first time in an hour of silence. Behind him, far off in the distance, a beam of light – pure energy – rippled through the sky.

"Uncle... do you realise what this means?"

Iroh placed down a piece for his board game, before looking up to frown at his nephew. "I won't be able to finish my game?"

"It means that my search is about to come to an end," Zuko corrected.

Sighing, Iroh glanced at Shia through the corners of his eyes, sending her an unsaid message which made her smile beneath her helmet. Zuko noticed Iroh's scepticism.

"That light came from an incredibly powerful source! It has to be him!"

"Or, it's just the celestial lights!" Iroh gestured to the sky with his left hand, using the right to place another tile down. "We've been down this road before, Prince Zuko. I don't want you to get too excited over nothing."

Patting the unoccupied cushion to his left, across from Shia, Iroh called Zuko over. "Please, sit – why don't you enjoy a nice cup of calming jasmine tea?"

"I don't need any calming tea!" Zuko's face twisted into a snarl, his burn scar growing even more prominent as the skin surrounding it flushed a furious crimson. "I need to capture the Avatar! Helmsman, head a course for the light!"

Iroh returned to his board game silently, looking mildly upset, his clothes ruffled by the wind. Shia looked to him with sympathy in her eyes. Despite Iroh's boundless patience, Zuko was difficult to manage – Iroh should have been considered a saint at this point, having put up with the prince's temper for so long. Zuko's mind was fixated upon one thing and one thing only; capturing the Avatar. 

Everything else, even his supportive uncle, came second.

Shia disliked that about him. If she were Zuko, she'd have long since abandoned the notion of pleasing the Fire Lord in favour of Iroh, who was more of a parental figure than anyone she'd encountered in her life.

At the same time, though, she felt empathy for Zuko. He'd done what he had thus far to regain his father's love and his honour as the Fire Prince. She'd been the same way, when she was young and blind. Now, she knew better – she was naïve to pine after her family. To them, she'd always been disposable. 

"I'm going to bed now," Iroh said after a time, closing his eyes wearily. "A man needs his rest."

There was no response from Zuko. Instead, he stood against the wind and sea spray alone, solid and unmoving like a figurehead, gaze riveted upon the beacon of hope in the distance. Looking away from the forlorn prince, Shia carefully packed away Iroh's board game, tea set, and table for storage below deck.

"Prince Zuko," Iroh began, "you need some sleep. Even if you are right, and the Avatar is alive, you won't find him. Your father, grandfather and great grandfather all tried and failed."

"Because their honour didn't rely on the Avatar's capture," Zuko responded stubbornly, still facing away from them. "Mine does. This coward's hundred years of hiding are over."

The Fire Prince may have been ruthless and temperamental, but something about him had always seemed melancholy. His mother was gone, his father unloving – and his sister, a prodigy. He at least had Iroh, though he was so short-sighted he couldn't see what really mattered.

With a soft sigh, Iroh turned away from Zuko and entered the corridor descending to the lower quarters. Shia followed after him with, their belongings balanced precariously in her arms... though she couldn't help but sneak a glance back at the prince.

Why did his lone silhouette against the darkening sky seem so unbearably sad?

▽

"Again," Iroh demanded.

Shia rolled beneath a searing blast of flame and redirected Zuko's fist away from herself, ignoring the waves of heat rolling past her. Another attack came for her side, this one a blazing roundhouse which she avoided cleanly. Before he could attack her once more she'd kicked him in the back of the knee, bringing him to his knees – only for the prince to spring upwards immediately with the assistance of his flames, prepared to fire another blow at any second.

"No," Iroh interrupted their sparring session. "Power and firebending come from the breath, not the muscles. The breath becomes energy in the body, and that energy extends past your limbs and becomes fire."

Iroh emphasised the meaning of his words with a solid punch, creating a swirling, gorgeous mass of fire that stopped just short of Zuko's face.

"Get it right this time—"

"Enough!" Zuko huffed, shouldering past Shia so that he could glare down at his uncle. "I've been drilling this sequence all day. Teach me the next set, I'm more than ready."

"No." Iroh frowned at his nephew disapprovingly. "You are impatient. You have yet to master the basics – do it again!"

Shia side-stepped instinctively when she noticed Zuko visibly tensing up and was glad that she did so when he spun around with a yell and unleashed a blast of flame. If Shia had stayed where she was she would have ended up burnt to a crisp, armour be damned. 

"The sages tell us that the Avatar is the last airbender. He must be over a hundred years old by now; he's had a century to master the four elements! I need more than basic firebending to defeat him," Zuko stomped his foot against the metal floor for emphasis. "You will teach me the advanced set!"

Iroh seemed to give up, reaching for the bowl of food to his side. "Very well... but first, I must finish my roast duck."

Then he proceeded to inhale the roast duck, leaving Zuko and Shia to look on – mostly disgusted, but also slightly amazed.

▽

Sunset veiled the metal ship in dying rays of gold and crimson, setting the unfathomably deep water below them aflame. Tendrils of cold dug their claws deep into Shia, reaching down into her heart and chilling her thoroughly. She enjoyed the chill, but she resented the exhaustion that came with it. She wanted to return to her cabin and shed her stuffy armour, but no – Zuko was staying up late, and a guard was always expected to be stationed nearby to the prince should he need assistance. Iroh had long since left to rest, leaving her to accompany the brooding prince. 

Zuko wasn't exactly the most amicable of people.

It was the screaming silence between the two that made the piercing screech of a flare being released even more evident. Far off in the distance, a radiant light sparked to life in the ebony sky. 

As soon as he heard it, Zuko snatched up his telescope and peered through it. The wicked grin that appeared on his face was more than enough to let Shia know that he'd found what he was looking for.

"Wake my uncle, and tell him... I've found the Avatar, as well as his hiding place."

Chapter Text

▽

❝ There is nothing more dreadful than the habit of doubt. Doubt separates people. It is a poison that disintegrates friendships and breaks up pleasant relations. It is a thorn that irritates and hurts; it is a sword that kills. ❞

Gautama Buddha

▽

THE AVATAR WAS HIDING IN THE SOUTHERN WATER TRIBE'S VILLAGE, according to Zuko. It was due to this that he'd ordered the soldiers aboard his ship to make haste for the village, where there was no dock. Their only choice was to improvise by cutting straight through the packed ice with their iron-plated hull.

Shia heard a crunch as their ship bit down into the ice, and the hiss of steam as the ramp lowered so they could descend into the village. At her side was her weapon of choice – a guandao. It was popular but difficult to wield, and even more so to master. A polearm as long as she was tall, with a curved blade at the end. A notch cut into the blade served as a slot to catch the blades wielded by her opponents, and a red tassel dangled from the projecting section of metal. Most of her fellow soldiers much preferred normal spears to use in conjunction with their firebending... but, then again, Shia was a nonbender. 

As soon as they were stable, Zuko stormed down the deck. He was imposing enough for his own soldiers – thanks to his permanent scowl and his untameable temper – but now that he was clad in armour, Shia felt something about him seemed all the more intimidating. She pitied the villagers (though Zuko probably wouldn't terrorize them too much).

Only one soldier greeted them on the shore. A boy with his face painted grey, black and white, with a club in hand. Behind him was a small crowd of women and children, their eyes wide with fear, clutching onto one another for reassurance. Shia found herself wondering if one among them was related to her. Was her father from here?

There were two Water Tribes, as far as she knew; North, and South. Which was she from?

Shia came to a halt behind Zuko, with the rest of her team of soldiers stationed behind her. The soldier boy suddenly released a somewhat fierce battle cry before charging straight at Zuko with his club, confirming Shia's suspicion that he was a non-bender. She felt a bit disappointed but still watched on as Zuko deflected the attack and kicked the club away, sending its wielder soaring into a pile of snow spectacularly.

The soldiers behind them, at Shia's gesture, partitioned into two groups of three on either side of the Fire Prince. Shia stood at the front of the spear-wielding group. She surveyed the people before them curiously from beneath her helmet, wondering to herself whether these women and children had any amongst them who could manipulate water. Had all of the benders left for battle?

By the time she'd refocused on the situation, Zuko was standing in front of an elderly woman who seemed to be a village elder. Beside the woman was a girl, perhaps just a few years younger than Shia, who glared at Zuko fiercely.

"Where are you hiding him?"

No reply.

Clearly enraged by their lack of response, Zuko lunged forward and tore the elderly woman out of the girl's clutch. With one hand grasping the woman's fur-lined attire, Zuko continued to interrogate the crowd – this time with a hostage to act as an incentive.

"He'd be about this age," Zuko shook the woman a few times, "master of all elements?"

The crowd maintained their silence. Zuko seemed to relent and shoved the poor woman back to her granddaughter, who managed to steady her, before glaring at Zuko furiously. He wasn't the sort to outright attack vulnerable people, so Shia wasn't too worried about the woman in the first place. No – he'd just intimidate them until they let up.

Swiping his arm through the air, Zuko released a torrent of flame that swept over the crowd. It merely passed over their heads, but it was clearly enough to shake them, given the soft whimpers of a few of them.

"I know you're hiding him!"

It was then that the warrior boy from before returned, screaming before he swung his club at the prince once more. Zuko ducked, and the boy went flying once again. Whilst he scrambled about in the snow, Zuko launched a searing blast of flame. The soldiers stayed still and silent, unwilling to interfere in the fight given their knowledge of Zuko's temper and his obsession with honour.

Rolling out of the way, the boy leapt upwards and flung a sharp, curved weapon at Zuko. The blade would have struck the prince in the face had he not shifted to the side.

"Show no fear!"

A child in the crowd chanted this phrase like a mantra, tossing a weapon at the older Water Tribe boy. A spear, Shia realised. The boy caught his newly-bestowed weapon and sprinted towards Zuko once more, holding his weapon like a lance – but still, the soldiers didn't interfere. Zuko grasped the shaft of the spear and snapped it clean in half over his knee, using the blunt end to knock the boy back to the icy ground.

Then the boomerang returned. Cutting through the air in a wide arc, it slammed into the back of Zuko's helmet, and bounced off with a clang, knocking him into a pile of snow. Shia could practically feel the anger radiating off of him when he rose, flames dancing across his fists. The helmet had fallen off due to the force of the blow and the fall, but Zuko quickly returned it to his head, huffing angrily all the while.

Before the prince could enact his revenge, however, a boy skidded into the gap between him and the crowd atop a penguin seal. Swerving, the blur of yellow and orange sledded straight beneath Zuko – sending him hurling backwards, landing on his face in the snow once more. His helmet twirled through the air gracefully before landing square on his back.

Shia and the rest of the soldiers flinched in unison. They all knew what this meant. Zuko was going to be pissed. They could bid adieu to their will to live, now that the Fire Prince's short fuse had been lit. 

In contrast, the people in the crowd (the children, especially) began to cheer. The boy who'd sent Zuko flying disembarked from his penguin seal, allowing Shia the chance to observe him carefully. He wore the attire of a monk, clothes emblazoned in yellow and orange, and his hair was non-existent.

"Hey Katara," the monk greeted the girl beside the elderly lady, before turning to the warrior boy. "Hey, Sokka."

"Hi, Aang," Sokka stated blandly, in a defeated tone. "Thanks for coming."

As they conversed, Shia and another soldier moved to assist Zuko in rising. He growled and shoved them both away, before rising on his own and settling into a bending stance. Upon seeing this the soldiers moved on their own and fanned out into a large circle surrounding Aang, whose airy smile faded away when he realised they planned to attack. He held up his staff defensively, prompting the soldiers to raise their own weapons in response.

Before they could launch into battle, a wave of snow tided over them. Shia only just managed to catch a glimpse of Aang, who'd struck the ground to summon a gust of air to send them flying.

He was the Avatar?

Shia brushed the snow away from her visor, gaze flickering between Zuko and the Avatar. The prince was, quite literally, steaming with rage.

"Looking for me?" Aang quipped, flashing a pearly white grin at the prince.

"You? You're the airbender?" Zuko's disbelief mirrored that of his soldiers. None of them could bring themselves to believe that this boy was the all-powerful wielder of elements. "You're the Avatar?"

Even the villagers who'd been sheltering the little boy seemed shocked by the revelation. Had they not known about his true identity?

"I've spent years preparing for this encounter..." Zuko hissed, his tone bitter and cold, "training... meditating... but you're just a child!"

The two began to circle each other slowly. Aang tilted his head at Zuko curiously, as if the prince had said something that confused him.

"Well, you're just a teenager..."

Shia honestly couldn't argue with that kind of logic, but in the Fire Nation, teenagers were considered old enough to join the army.

Then, Zuko attacked. Fire and chaos rained down on the Avatar, who easily deflected Zuko's strikes with his staff. Despite his successful defence, though, wisps of flame would occasionally get past him and come close to hurting the bystanders. Aang's gaze became wide and fearful, but not out of concern for himself – out of concern for the innocent villagers who'd harboured him.

"If I go with you... will you promise to leave everyone alone?"

Zuko paused and seemed to be considering Aang's offer. Shia knew he'd accept, and he did so by inclining his head ever so slightly. He wouldn't renege on this agreement – that would lay waste to his honour, after all.

Two soldiers moved inwards to flank Aang at Shia's gesture, guiding him towards the ship with their hands pressed against his back threateningly. Katara – the girl beside the elderly woman – rushed forward, calling after him, "Aang, don't do this!"

He looked back at her with a reassuring smile on his lips. "Don't worry, Katara. It'll be okay."

Shia stepped onto the ship just as the ramp began to rise, sealing the ship back up.

"Set a course to the Fire Nation!" Zuko declared, loud and clear. The soldiers went to do his bidding, as Shia lingered a moment longer. His voice came once more, this time quiet and subdued.

"... I'm going home."

▽

"This staff will make an excellent gift for my father," Zuko remarked, running his fingertips over the smooth surface of the Avatar's confiscated weapon. "I suppose you wouldn't know of fathers, having been raised by monks."

Handing the staff to Shia, Zuko turned his attention back to ordering the soldiers around. "Take the Avatar to the prison hold, and take the staff to my quarters."

▽

Shia had only just begun to unwind within her tiny room when she heard a commotion above her – faint, muted yelling. That couldn't be good. Hurrying to pull her armour back on, she hurried up to the deck. She was still fixing her helmet on when she emerged into the late afternoon sunlight, eyes barely adjusting to the brightness before she was knocked over by a wave of water.

It took her a moment to grab hold of the railing and regain her bearings, looking around the deck to gauge the situation.

The Avatar was escaping.

A massive bison descended from the sky, landing on the deck and causing the boat to rock. Sokka and Katara, the siblings from the Water Tribe, were helping Aang up. Shia would've confronted them, but she was without a weapon (having left her guandao below deck in her haste to find the cause of the commotion).

Shia's attention was drawn to the figure of Sokka, scurrying across the deck to the Avatar's staff, which had somehow ended up outside. Just as Sokka laid his hand on the staff, another grasped the other end – it was none other than Zuko, who was just barely hanging onto the edge of the slippery deck. The prince attempted to clamber onto the deck with the support of the staff, only to have Sokka knock him overboard with three strikes to the face with the butt of the weapon.

Shia hesitated at first but rushed over to the other side of the ship when she noticed that the other soldiers were dealing with the Avatar and his companions. It took a moment to find a suitable method through which to pull Zuko up. He was quite far below, dangling from the anchor chain. Shia knelt and, holding onto the railing with one hand, outstretched the other to the boy. An aggravated huff escaped her lips when the cool breeze whipped her hair about her face.

Hang on. Hair?

Zuko was glaring at her at first, not quite recognising the unfamiliar girl, only to notice that her armour that was clearly that of a soldier. Despite the cloth mask covering the lower half of her face, he could tell that she was a female. Shia ignored his recognition, anxiety gripping her stomach, and tugged the prince back up after seizing his hand. Before he could say anything she'd turned away, heart pounding in her chest, and snagged her helmet (which had fallen off earlier when the wave pushed her over). By the time Zuko spoke, her helmet was back in place.

"You're a girl?"

Shia ignored him and tried to change the topic, gesturing towards the Avatar and his companions aboard the flying bison. Iroh emerged from the stairs that went below deck, confusion clouding his gaze when he caught sight of the departing bison. Zuko shoved past Shia hurriedly, already screaming commands at the other soldiers.

"Shoot them down!"

The problem was, all the soldiers had been frozen to the deck. Shia noticed that it was the doing of Katara – she was a waterbender?

Realising his men were currently useless, Zuko snarled and motioned to Iroh to assist him. The two blasted a massive torrent of flame towards the three children and the bison flying away from them, only for the attack to be deflected into a nearby glacier by a gust of air summoned by the Avatar. Within seconds, the ice began to crumble, and all of a sudden the front half of their ship was pinned beneath an avalanche.

"Good news for the Fire Lord..." Iroh murmured beside Shia, "the Fire Nation's greatest threat is just a little kid."

Zuko spun around to face them both with a furious glint in his eyes. "That little kid, Uncle, just did all this." He gestured to the chaos surrounding them – the avalanche, the frozen soldiers.... and lastly, Shia. She didn't know whether she was offended by that or not.

"I won't underestimate him again," Zuko muttered. "Dig the ship out and follow them!"

Shia nervously shuffled closer to Iroh, already sensing that the prince was about to turn his scrutiny on her. Iroh could only offer her a confused tilt of the head, unsure of why she suddenly seemed so fearful. It was nearly tangible, how worried she was.

"And you," Zuko pointed at Shia, his tone quieter than she had ever heard. "You, my Uncle and I? We're going to talk. My quarters, now."

Chapter Text

▽

❝"The truth." Dumbledore sighed. "It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution." ❞

J.K. Rowling

▽

ZUKO WAS FURIOUS. He took a moment to pace about his room, before plopping down across the table from Shia and Iroh. Shia tried not to squirm under his intense gaze and removed her helmet, placing it on the floor beside her, keeping her eyes fixed on the low table separating them. Iroh patted her shoulder reassuringly, sensing her discomfort.

"Explain," Zuko hissed, his expression stony, "now."

Iroh took a sip from his tea and smiled peacefully before deciding to respond.

"Well... Shia's a girl?"

Zuko groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was silent for a few moments before breathing out slowly and looking back up.

"And you saw fit to hide this from me, why?"

Iroh set his teacup down, and his tone took on a more serious quality. "Prince Zuko, Shia is my apprentice."

Zuko looked disgruntled.

"So?"

Shia interrupted a bit awkwardly, realising that she couldn't play bystander in matters concerning herself. Besides, the secret had been outed, so what point was there in hiding?

"It means that I take orders only from Iroh," Shia told the prince quietly, keeping a close eye on his shifting mood, "and it means that I don't take orders from anyone else."

Zuko looked miffed and sat back slightly. Shia counted the wrinkles that appeared as his brow furrowed deeper. One... two... three... ten...

"Alright," Zuko crossed his arms. His gaze shifted to Shia, and she subconsciously shifted closer to Iroh. "That doesn't change the fact that I want to know why you hid this from me."

Shia laced her fingers together. "I guess you could say that it has something to do with my identity...?"

Zuko's face twisted up at her words. "Are you a criminal?"

"What?" Shia recoiled slightly, taken aback by the accusation. "No."

Zuko squinted at her.

"Relax, Prince Zuko," Iroh soothed, "Shia is not a criminal. It's just more convenient for her to be seen as a man for now."

"Whatever," Zuko sighed. Shia shrunk. "The scar thing was a lie, too?"

Shia rubbed the surface of her mask self-consciously, relieved that she could feel the fabric still in place. "Not exactly."

Before Zuko could inquire, the ship came to a lurching halt. The familiar clatter of the anchor being released had the two stand simultaneously, with Shia quickly reaching for her helmet. Pulling her hair back with a ribbon, she reverted to the appearance of a normal soldier within an instant.

"We've reached the harbour."

▽

The harbour was filled with Fire Nation warships that dwarfed their own. Shia felt uncomfortable with all the soldiers scurrying about and stuck close to Iroh as they descended the ramp to shore.

"Uncle, I want the repairs made as quickly as possible," Zuko told Iroh distractedly, "I don't want to risk losing his trail."

"You mean the Avatar?" Iroh questioned, looking back to his nephew. Shia adjusted her grip on her guandao nervously as they stopped short of a duo of soldiers.

Zuko turned to his uncle with a fiery light in his eyes, gritting, "don't mention his name on these docks! Once word gets out that he's alive, every firebender will be out looking for him. I don't want anyone getting in the way."

Shia sighed inwardly as she noticed the man approaching them.

"Getting in the way of what, Prince Zuko?"

"Captain Zhao," Zuko grunted.

Water and oil did not mix. Neither did Shia and Zhao. At least Zuko was somewhat redeemable. Zhao was just an irritating middle-aged bundle of chauvinism and sycophancy.

Needless to say, Shia resented him.

"It's Commander, now," Zhao replied snidely, before he realised Iroh was present. His attitude shifted instantly, and he ducked into a respectful bow. "General Iroh, great hero of our nation, and his accomplished student as well?"

"Retired general," Iroh corrected politely.

"The Fire Lord's brother is a welcome guest at any time," Zhao ignored Iroh. "What brings you to my harbour?"

"Our ship is being repaired," Iroh gestured to their tattered ship, which looked as though it were going to fall apart at any given moment. Shia was honestly surprised that it stayed afloat after its ordeals.

"That's quite a bit of damage," Zhao frowned, observing the markings on the ship suspiciously.

"Yes... you wouldn't believe what happened," Zuko nudged Iroh's side with his elbow. "Uncle! Tell Commander Zhao what happened!"

Shia had to hold back a chuckle as Iroh sent his nephew a comically annoyed look.

"Yes, I will do that... it was incredible!" Iroh leaned in towards Zuko, asking in a lower tone, "What? Did we crash or something?"

"Yes!" Zuko affirmed, "right into an Earth Kingdom ship!"

"Really? You must regale me with all the thrilling details..." Zhao quirked an eyebrow at them sceptically, before leaning towards Zuko. Something about the action was threatening. "Join me for a drink?"

"Sorry, but we have to go." Zuko began to walk away, but Iroh placed a hand on his shoulder. If it was anyone else doing that, Shia was pretty sure their arm would have been set on fire.

"Prince Zuko... show Commander Zhao your respect." Iroh turned to face Zhao, arms folded behind his back as he added regally, "we would be honoured to join you. Do you have any Ginseng tea? It's my favourite."

The two lapsed into conversation and walked away, leaving Zuko's fists to flare up with flames. Shia raised a brow at his childish actions but escorted him as he stormed after Iroh in the direction of an encampment of crimson tents.

▽

"... by year's end, the Earth Kingdom capital will be under our rule. The Fire Lord will finally gain victory in this war."

Zhao had spent a little over an hour explaining the details of some military strategy he had been formulating. Shia nearly fell asleep in the process.

"If my father thinks the rest of the world will follow him willingly, then he is a fool," Zuko muttered. For once, something he said made sense.

Zhao sat down in the armchair beside Zuko and smirked. "Two years at sea have done little to temper your tongue."

If Shia could, she'd have remarked that his banishment had only sharpened Zuko's words.

"So, how's your search for the Avatar going?"

Zuko hesitated, but Iroh bought him some time by knocking a stand of spears over.

"Eh—my fault, entirely."

Iroh backed away, sitting down on the stool in front of Shia. She remained standing, completely still as she watched the other soldiers in the room suspiciously.

"We haven't found him yet," Zuko lied.

"Did you really expect to?" Zhao sounded amused, as he leant back in his seat. "The Avatar died a hundred years ago, along with the rest of the airbenders."

Zuko scowled. His scar was dappled with light cast by the flames dancing in the brazier. Zhao noticed the prince's expression shift.

"Unless you've found some evidence that the Avatar is in fact alive..."

"No," Zuko looked away, disappointment colouring his tone. "Nothing."

"Prince Zuko," Zhao rose from his seat, moving to stand in front of the younger male. "The Avatar is the only one who can stop the Fire Nation from winning this war. If you have an ounce of loyalty left, you'll tell me what you found."

"I haven't found anything." Zuko glared up at Zhao. "It's like you said. The Avatar probably died a long time ago."

They stared at each other silently until Zuko got up. "Come on, uncle. We're going."

The guards standing at the entrance of the tent crossed their spears, preventing Zuko from leaving. Shia instinctively slid her hand down the length of the guandao and twirled it once, pointing the blade at the guards threateningly.

Another man entered the tent to report to Zhao.

"Commander Zhao. We interrogated the crew as you instructed," the messenger began, "they confirmed that Prince Zuko had the Avatar in custody, but they let him escape."

Commander Zhao stalked forward.

"Now remind me, how exactly was your ship damaged?"

▽

"So a twelve-year-old boy bested you and your firebenders?" Zhao's eyes glinted with amusement, and a wicked grin plucked at his lips. "You're more pathetic than I thought."

"I underestimated him once, but it will not happen again."

"No, it will not, because you won't have a second chance."

Zuko began angrily, but he was unable to finish speaking. "Captain Zhao, I've been hunting the Avatar for two years, and I–"

Zhao spun to face him, flames trailing in the air as he swiped his arm.

"And you failed!" Zhao walked forward to loom over Zuko, who had been forcibly seated in a chair. "Capturing the Avatar is a task too important to leave in a teenager's hands. He's mine, now."

Zuko growled, low and fierce, before lunging forward. The guards restrained him in an instant, and Shia could only stand by. Iroh had instructed her to remain docile... for now.

"Keep them here," Zhao ordered, before disappearing out the entrance with a final smirk shot at the prince.

Zuko, filled with rage he couldn't act on, struck out with his legs and clipped the table Iroh's tea had been resting on. It splintered into two halves, though luckily, Shia had the teapot and Iroh his teacup.

"More tea, please," Iroh asked politely. Shia poured the fragrant drink into her mentor's cup before taking a respectful step away, her gaze lingering on Zuko out of caution. She had no choice but to cease resistance – after all, where Iroh went, she followed.

That was the nature of a shadow.

▽

"My search party is ready," Zhao said when he entered the tent a few hours later. "Once I'm out to sea my guards will escort you to your ship, and you will be free to go."

"Why?" Zuko hissed, turning to glare at Zhao. "Are you scared that I'm going to stop you?"

The older man chuckled, though Shia knew better than to laugh. "You? Stop me? Impossible."

"Don't underestimate me, Zhao!" Zuko bolted from his seat so fast that it fell over. "I will capture the Avatar before you."

"Prince Zuko," Iroh stood, cautioning his nephew. "That's enough."

"You can't compete with me. I have hundreds of warships under my command." Zhao gestured to the teenager. "And you? You're just a banished prince. No home, no allies... your own father doesn't even want you."

Shia flinched.

"You're wrong. Once I return the Avatar to my father he will welcome me with honour, and restore my rightful place on the throne."

"If your father really wanted you home, he would have let you return by now. Avatar or no Avatar. In his eyes, you are a failure and a disgrace to the Fire Nation."

"That's not true," Zuko denied.

Shia wasn't even remotely close to Zuko, but she couldn't help but feel concerned for him. Surely he felt saddened by the man's words.

"You have the scar to prove it."

"Maybe you'd like one to match!" Zuko lunged forward with an angered yell, though Zhao was unfazed.

Zhao scoffed. "Is that a challenge?"

"An Agni Kai. At sunset."

"Very well," Zhao took a step back. "It's a shame your father won't be there to see me humiliate you... I guess your uncle will do."

With that, he left.

Iroh looked at his nephew with concern. "Prince Zuko... have you forgotten what happened the last time you duelled a master?"

Zuko's face contorted with rage, and he ran his fingertips over his scar.

"I will never forget."

▽

The sunset transformed the sky into a bloody shade of red. Everything about the Fire Nation was an angry, hostile shade of the colour – their clothes, their element and their words. Shia had a feeling that her calmer disposition came from her waterbender heritage. She stood beside Iroh, fully alert, with her guandao at her side.

"Remember your firebending basics, Prince Zuko," Iroh instructed. The prince knelt before him, having shed his armour in favour of a more lightweight set of baggy pants. "They are your greatest weapons."

"I refuse to let him win," Zuko replied heatedly.

Zuko rose and turned to face Zhao. The flame-patterned cloth draped over his shoulders fluttered to the floor, leaving him bare-chested.

The crash of a gong being struck signalled the beginning of the Agni Kai. Zuko and Zhao shifted into the appropriate firebending stance.

Zuko made the first move.

The entire fight was composed of relentless attacks. Both competitors were skilled – Zuko may have been younger, but he trained ceaselessly beneath Iroh. The general was an excellent instructor. At some point, however, Zhao managed to overwhelm the banished prince. Zuko fell. Before he could rise again, Zhao fired a blast. Shia noted that Zuko froze before he reacted – pushing his weight onto his arms, he lifted his body and swept his legs across the ground.

Zhao was knocked over. Zuko attacked with a bout of flame that knocked the commander over once more. This time, Zhao stayed down, pressed down by the threat of Zuko's fist hovering above his face.

"Do it!" Zhao screamed.

Zuko punched the air. Flames lapped at the ground beside Zhao's head. He had missed on purpose.

"That's it?" Zhao sneered, his eyes glinting with malice, "your father raised a coward."

"Next time you get in my way, I promise... I won't hold back."

Zuko turned and began to walk to Iroh. Shia's grip on her guandao tightened. Considering how scummy Zhao was, she doubted he would let Zuko off easy. He would attack while the prince's back was turned. She was certain.

Shia was right.

She'd lunged forward just in time, stepping around Zuko and twirling her guandao to dispel the flames. Her gloves prevented the fire from burning her. She was glad she'd trained with firebenders – the techniques for fighting their flames without getting burnt had been seared into her memory, ironically enough.

It helped that Zuko was merciless when it came to sparring.

At the sound of flames hissing, Zuko turned with wide eyes.

Shia twirled her weapon gracefully and struck Zhao square in the chest with the blunt end, forcing him back a few metres. Zuko stepped forward lividly from behind her, clearly intending to give Zhao a fist to the face for his dishonourable actions, but Iroh moved to hold him back. Shia remained in her ready stance, prepared to remove Zhao's head if he tried once more.

"Prince Zuko, do not taint your victory." Iroh turned, gesturing for Shia to back away. "So this is how the great Commander Zhao acts in defeat? Disgraceful. Even in exile, my nephew is more honourable than you. Thanks, again, for the tea. It was delicious."

Iroh began to walk away with Zuko. Shia shot one last threatening glare over her shoulder at the commander before falling into step behind them.

"Did... did you really mean that, uncle?"

"Of course. I told you, ginseng tea is my favourite."

Chapter Text

▽

❝ The two most powerful warriors are patience and time. ❞

Leo Tolstoy

▽

SHIA WAS SERVING IROHAND ZUKO DINNER WHEN THE NEWS ARRIVED. She'd just placed down a platter of seafood and stepped back to stand guard when one of her fellow soldiers entered the room.

"We've found the Avatar," the soldier informed loudly. Zuko's attention was instantly on him. "He's on Kyoshi Island."

"The Avatar's on Kyoshi Island?" Zuko stood from his seat instantly, nearly flipping the table in the process. "Shia, ready the rhinos. He's not getting away from me this time."

Shia acknowledged the order after Iroh nodded slightly in her direction. By the time she heard her mentor speak, the girl was already partway through the door.

"Are you going to finish that?"

"I was going to save it for later!"

▽

Shia kept a steady hand on the reins to make sure her rhino didn't bolt, using the other to hold her guandao. She didn't particularly enjoy fighting on the back of a steed. She had always felt more comfortable with her feet on the ground.

Shia, Zuko and two other soldiers were on their rhinos at the entrance to Kyoshi Village, where Aang had supposedly been sighted. Zuko halted.

"Come out, Avatar! You can't hide from me forever!"

Zuko waited for a few moments, but when nothing happened, he ordered the other soldiers to search the village. Shia remained at his side, as per her mentor's orders.

It was when Shia heard the pained grunts of soldiers being knocked off of their rhinos that she realised they were being attacked. She was quick to react, swiping her guandao and knocking aside an attacker who had been aiming for the prince. She took a moment to familiarise herself with the opponent – a girl clad in green armour with fans for weapons, her face painted in a distinct fashion. One of the famous Kyoshi warriors.

Zuko attacked the warrior girl with his flames, but another warrior stepped in and blocked the attack with her fan. Shia froze and looked at her suspiciously when the warrior made an uncannily masculine yell – but her attention was drawn away by another attack. Zuko was knocked off of his rhino by the strike, and he was quickly surrounded by the female warriors.

In a split second decision, Shia leapt off of her rhino and used her guandao to vault herself into the centre of the circle. The warriors were forced to stay back lest they have their limbs amputated. Zuko crouched and spun as Shia kept out of his way, utilising a firebending technique to blast the ring of warriors away.

"Nice try, Avatar, but these little girls can't save you!"

"Hey! Over here!"

Shia glanced in the direction the familiar voice had come from, recognising the Avatar, Aang, standing a little way away from them.

Zuko immediately began to launch balls of flame at the boy, setting the rooves of buildings alight with his attacks. Aang deflected most of them before they could hit him, before trading his staff for a pair of fans. A massive gust of wind sent Zuko flying backwards through the wall of a building.

Shia considered following Aang, who flew off immediately afterwards, but instead hurried to the crater where Zuko had fallen. The prince was slightly dazed, but as soon as he realised that the Avatar was getting away he leapt up and sprinted away. Shia sighed, deciding that she would gather the scattered rhinos.

It was clear that he would fail.

▽

"Do you know where my uncle went?"

Shia glanced up at Zuko, who merely scowled at her (as always). Her gaze swept over their surroundings cautiously before she responder.

"He mentioned that he would be taking a bath earlier."

Zuko's frown deepened as he turned and stormed away, muttering all the while. Shia sighed and turned her attention back to keeping guard over the ship.

The crew been pursuing the Avatar for weeks. After the failure at Kyoshi Island, Zuko had only grown more impatient. He leapt at every chance he had instead of biding his time or setting traps. Shia would have told him to be more patient herself, but she had a feeling that he wouldn't take her criticism very well. Zuko would even snap at his uncle, the person he was closest to... there was no telling what he'd do if she were the one to comment on his tactless strategies.

It had been just a few hours after Zuko initially asked Shia about Iroh's whereabouts that he returned to ask if she had seen him since.

"My apologies, Prince Zuko," Shia said calmly, though she was beginning to feel worried as well. "I haven't seen Iroh at all since the last time you asked."

Zuko's lips pressed into a thin line.

"I'm going to check the hot springs. It's been more than half an hour." Zuko turned to leave, before pausing. He didn't look at her when he spoke. "Come with me."

"Oh... alright," Shia responded unsurely. She followed him silently, unwilling to speak. A few members of the crew lingered nearby. She was wearing her helmet, so she doubted they would hear if she whispered, but it was better safe than sorry.

They entered a secluded glade with numerous hot springs speckling the vicinity.

"Uncle!" Zuko yelled, "Uncle, where are you?"

Other members of the ship emerged from the edges of the glade. The seemed to have been combing the area for Iroh prior Zuko's arrival.

"Sir, maybe he thought you left without him," one of the men suggested.

"Something's not right here..." Zuko glanced around, and his eyes fell upon a stack of stones positioned oddly. "... That pile of rocks!"

"It looks like there's been a landslide, sir," the same soldier suggested. Zuko moved forward to inspect the stones suspiciously.

"Land doesn't slide uphill. Those rocks didn't move naturally." The prince stood back up, before declaring his discovery. "My uncle's been captured by earthbenders!"

Shia withheld a sigh. What had her mentor gotten himself into? 

▽

"You're going to fall off of the rhino if you don't hold on," Zuko retorted hotly. Shia reluctantly placed her hand on the small of his back, inwardly expecting it to somehow combust. It didn't, thankfully. She liked having two hands.

Shia and Zuko had set off to track Iroh and his captors down immediately following his declaration. The journey took them from afternoon to dawn the next day, following the tracks left by the Earth Kingdom's soldiers without rest. Along the way, Shia had removed her helmet.

Somehow, Zuko was more agreeable when he was tired. Shia frowned when a shadow fell over them, and looked up to see a furry cloud flying past. The Avatar's bison. Zuko had seen it, too – he tugged on the reins, turning the rhino so that they could catch a prolonged glimpse of the bison flying in the direction opposite of Iroh.

"The Avatar..." Zuko murmured. Shia stayed silent, her gaze probing the prince's intentions. Would he pursue his honour or his family? If he chose the former, Shia would track Iroh herself. She didn't mind that – it'd be less painful than sharing a ride with the personification of rage and teenage angst... though a tiny part of her hoped that he'd choose the latter.

"... don't look at me like that," Zuko muttered irritably. "I can catch the Avatar anytime. We're going after my uncle."

Shia's gaze shifted to questioning, and Zuko huffed.

"I can feel you glaring at me. Don't, it's annoying."

"Oh. My apologies, Prince Zuko."

Shia withdrew her gaze and stared at a random tree instead. The rhino continued to trod on, ignorant to the awkward silence between the prince and the soldier.

▽

In a dark ravine that snaked through the forest, there stood five earth-bender soldiers and a partially naked Iroh. The latter was weighed down by iron chains, hands spread out on a boulder, as one of the soldiers spoke:

"These dangerous hands must be crushed."

The one to speak gestured for another man to step forward, and with a heaving motion, he bent a boulder into the air. Iroh seemed fairly relaxed for a man about to have his arms broken. Just as the soldier hammered his fist downwards, a blur of dark red launched itself out of the surrounding undergrowth. Zuko kicked the boulder aside mid-air with a yell, landing neatly before turning to glare at his opponents. Following shortly after was Shia, who landed beside Iroh and crushed the chains binding him with a strike of her guandao.

"Excellent form, the both of you," Iroh complimented proudly.

"You taught me well," Zuko retorted. He'd already settled into a ready stance, and was circling with his back to Iroh. Shia was wearing her helmet once more, and acknowledged the man's comment with a brief inclination of the head. She then turned her attention to the surrounding soldiers.

"Surrender yourselves," the leader of the little group spoke. "It's five against three. You're clearly outnumbered."

Shia rolled her eyes.

"Ah, that's true," Iroh murmured. Shia heard the jingle of the chains as he lifted them. "However, you're clearly outmatched."

"Hyah!"

The earth below them upturned as the surrounding earthbenders raised boulders and fired them in unison at the Fire Nation side. Shia heard the snap of Iroh's chains as he crushed the boulders. She destroyed a few herself, and sent the ringleader flying with a sweep of her guandao. Zuko had already taken care of two others.

Iroh entangled a massive boulder which had been hurtling in the prince's direction with his chains, and used the momentum to spin and send it back at the soldiers. Shia heard a groan and saw that the one she'd knocked over had gotten back to his feet, and was performing a few quick movements to raise more boulders. She ducked beneath one and dashed forward, dodging boulders, before vaulting herself over him and delivering a swift kick to the back of his head. He was down for the count.

Now, the three were standing in the centre of a ring of collapsed enemies. Shia shifted into a more comfortable standing position, leaning on her guandao, and watched as Zuko shuffled forwards sheepishly to place a hand on Iroh's shoulder. The two smiled at each other.

"Now, would you please put on some clothes?"

Chapter Text

▽

❝ Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: you don't give up. ❞

Anne Lamott

▽

THE MOON WAS LOW IN THE SKY WHEN THE TRIO FINALLY REACHED A VILLAGE. At Zuko's insistence, they'd headed straight towards the Avatar – much to Shia's chagrin. She'd been sandwiched between the two royals for a while, and sleeping was difficult when the only viable headrest was Zuko's back (Shia wanted to keep her life, so she forced herself to stay awake). As a result, this was her third day of sleeplessness. How were Zuko and Iroh still alert?

Shia's attention returned to their surroundings when the rhino lurched to a halt and Zuko sprung to the ground. Reluctantly, Shia got down and took the reins from the prince so that the animal would stay put. Iroh stayed in his seat as Zuko turned wordlessly to approach a home – judging by its size and position, it was the home of the village chief.

It didn't take too long for a man to emerge from the dwelling. Shia couldn't see his face, but she had the nagging feeling that Zuko was smirking.

"Having trouble sleeping?" Zuko shoved the man back and stepped in after him, his voice dripping with venom that Shia could sense even from afar. "Have you seen the Avatar lately?"

▽

After he'd interrogated the village chief for information regarding the Avatar, Zuko had demanded that they return to the ship. Shia guided the rhino back to their ship, which took far less time than it had before since they knew where they were headed. When they returned, Iroh retreated below deck to clothe himself and Zuko began to belt orders left and right. Shia returned the rhino to its stall below deck and rewarded it with a meal, before taking a short nap in her room. When she awoke and returned to the upper deck, it was afternoon, and Iroh was admonishing Zuko.

"Sailing into Fire Nation waters?" Iroh gestured wildly, "Of all the things you have done in your sixteen years, Prince Zuko, this is the most foolish!"

Shia paused behind Iroh and watched the interactions between him and his nephew with a bemused expression. Zuko was standing at the rail, squinting through his spyglass with his back to them. "I have no choice, Uncle."

"Have you completely forgotten that the Fire Lord banished you?!" Iroh responded hotly, "what if you are caught?!"

Zuko finally looked away from the instrument in his hands, his ponytail whipping about wildly in the breeze. "I'm chasing the Avatar! My father will understand why I'm returning home!"

"You give him too much credit," Iroh retorted, crossing his arms, "my brother is not the understanding type!"

Zuko didn't respond, and turned back to the spyglass to continue his pursuit of the Avatar.

"Helmsman! Full steam ahead!"

The humming of the ship's engine beneath their feet increased, and they ploughed through the water at an even greater speed than before. Shia watched as the centre of the deck split in two and a catapult rose from within the ship. Zuko turned to her, having finally parted from the telescope.

"Cut the rope on my signal."

Shia glanced at Iroh out of the corner of her eyes before inclining her head slightly to convey that she understood, easing her guandao to rest over the rope that bound the catapult.

"Ugh..." Iroh wrinkled his nose and whipped out a fan from his sleeve, beginning to wave it in front of his face. "Really, Prince Zuko? Couldn't you shoot them down with something more fragrant?"

Zuko ignored his uncle and blasted a fireball at the projectile. It set alight immediately. Shia noticed him glance at her as he raised an arm.

"On my mark..." Zuko reminded her, "... fire!" 

Shia slashed the rope, launching the flaming missile at the flying bison far ahead of their ship. He dodged. Immediately, Zuko prepared to have another projectile loaded, but his attention seemed to be caught by something ahead of them.

"A blockade...!"

In the distance, massive Fire Nation warships that made their own look like a midget were lined up to block them from delving further into Fire Nation waters. Shia shifted her weight nervously.

"Technically, you are still in Earth Kingdom waters," Iroh reasoned. "Turn back now and they'll have no reason to arrest you."

Zuko scowled and glared up at the bison, who only seemed to speed up as he raced towards the blockade.

"He's not turning around."

"Please, Prince Zuko..." Iroh pleaded, "if the Fire Nation captures you, there's nothing I can do! Do not follow the Avatar!"

Zuko seemed to be conflicted for a moment – clenching his fists and looking away from his older relative. Shia frowned.

"I'm sorry, uncle," Zuko said finally. He opened his eyes and straightened his shoulders, before yelling to the helmsman above, "run the blockade!"

The soldiers who made up the blockade began to launch their own catapults. They were aimed at the Avatar's bison... however, because their ship was in the same direction, many landed far too close for Shia's comfort. Steam erupted from the ocean, and the waves rose up high enough to wash over the deck. Shia hooked her guandao around the rail to keep herself steady, and Iroh was fine where he was, somehow. Zuko had latched onto the catapult.

One of the ship's engineers clambered up onto the deck from the lower floors, drenched in water. "Prince Zuko, our engines are damaged! We need to stop and make repairs!"

A nasty glare settled onto Zuko's face, and he ignored the poor man's words. Instead, he turned, and said aloud, "do not stop this ship."

The barrage of attacks from the blockade continued, and Shia grimaced as the drew closer to the ships. They were aiming to squeeze between two of the metal monstrosities, but no one seemed to be planning to stop anytime soon. They'd be crushed...

"We're on a collision course!" Iroh yelled to his nephew.

"We can make it!" Zuko retorted blindly, clenching his fists as though his anger alone could carry them through. Shia gritted her teeth and braced herself to interfere. She wouldn't stop the ship... but she could potentially use her abilities to get them out of there unharmed, if needed.

Just as they entered the danger zone between the two ships, the ships on either side of them stopped moving. Shia let out a quiet sigh of relief as they glided through the gap unharmed. Now that she looked back to the rear end of their ship, she could see a plume of thick, acrid black smoke streaming out behind them. She looked back to Zuko, who was glaring up at a familiar man standing atop one of the ships.

Commander Zhao.

"What's he up to, Uncle?" Zuko gripped the railing hard enough that his knuckles turned white. "Why didn't Commander Zhao arrest me?"

"Because he wants to follow you," Iroh said wisely. "He knows you'll lead him to the prize you're both after... the Avatar."

Shia expected Zuko to start throwing a tantrum (as usual), but surprisingly, he stayed calm.

"If Zhao wants to follow our trail of smoke... then that's exactly what we'll let him do."

▽

The temple was dark and eerie. Shia crouched in the dark shadows at the top of a dragon pillar, gazing down at the Avatar and his friends. Zuko had been insistent on pursuing the Avatar alone, and had left Iroh and the rest of the crew to lure Zhao away from the Avatar. Iroh had sent Shia after his nephew on a small boat of her own (without Zuko's knowledge, of course,) and so now she was watching him stalk the Avatar disinterestedly.

At the moment, the Fire Sages were fighting with the Avatar and his gang. One of the sages had betrayed his companions by guiding Aang into a room sealed shut by a lock only multiple firebenders could unlock – then, they had sent their lemur into the room through the pipes, tricking the sages into unlocking the door. The sages had been ambushed and restrained, though Aang was hesitating.

"Aang," Katara yelled to the Avatar, who was standing just below Shia, "now's your chance!"

Zuko crept up behind the Aang slowly, grabbing onto his wrists and shoving him out from behind the pillar. Katara and Sokka were visibly taken aback.

"The Avatar's coming with me," Zuko said, before he shoved Aang towards the staircase that led outside. Shia watched as the Fire Sages twisted out of the restraints that their shocked captors had them in, capturing them whilst they were subdued. Zuko barked an order to them. "Close the doors, quickly!"

The Fire Sages followed his orders blindly. Shia remained still for a moment longer, and tensed when she saw the Avatar shove Zuko into the wall before hurling him down the stairs with a blast of air.

Shia would have intervened, but the Avatar didn't seem interested in continuing the fight – instead, he turned tail to bolt towards his companions. Katara yelled at him, telling him to go to the chamber, which was nearly sealed again.

Aang, though reluctant, gave in to her demands. He somersaulted over the sages and slid between the doors, disappearing from sight as they clicked shut once more.

Then their world turned blue.

Shia covered her eyes instinctively, and only uncovered them when she could tell that the searing blue light had receded. A stunned silence filled the room, and it stayed as such until Zuko clambered out of the stairwell with rage burning in his eyes. Shia stayed where she was, gaze flickering between him and the sages. Iroh had told her to interfere only when the prince was in danger.

The Fire Sages assembled in front of the locking mechanism and funnelled their flames into the open maws of the serpentine pipes – but beside dark, acrid smoke, the doors remained sealed.

Zuko screamed. "Why isn't it working? It's sealed shut!"

"It must have been the light," a Fire Sage responded wearily. "Avatar Roku doesn't want us inside."

▽

"Why did you help the Avatar?" Zuko hissed at the traitorous sage. Shia winced sympathetically as the sage was forced to kneel in front of the seething prince, his hands bound behind his back, at the centre of a circle of irate sages.

"Because it was once the sage's duty..." The elderly man glared up at Zuko, defiance in his eyes. "It is still our duty."

"What a moving performance..."

Shia's eyes widened as she looked to the entrance of the chamber, where a squadron of soldiers stood behind a newcomer. Zhao entered the room clapping slowly, a wicked glint in his eyes as he came to a stop behind Zuko. Zuko turned hastily, eyes wide, before glaring at the man heatedly.

"I'm sure the Fire Lord will understand when you explain why you betrayed him."

"Commander Zhao," one of the sages dipped his head in greeting. Shia's grip on her guandao tightened as she noticed the soldiers move to encircle Zuko and the sages.

"And Prince Zuko," Zhao began, "it was a noble effort, but your little smokescreen didn't work. Two traitors in one day? The Fire Lord will be pleased."

A soldier came up behind Zuko and grabbed his arms like he had Aang's, though the prince merely continued to speak as though nothing had occurred.

"You're too late, Zhao!" Zuko hissed, "the Avatar's inside, and the doors are sealed."

"No matter," Zhao replied smugly, "sooner or later... he has to come out."

Shia was glad that being so high up meant the light of the braziers couldn't reach her. She'd use this time to release Zuko – but first, she needed a distraction.

▽

Once more, brilliant blue illuminated the fire temple. Shia turned her attention to Zuko. He had been chained to the column with the dragon head embellishment she was perched upon, so she could use this as an opportunity to free him. Zhao and his soldiers were already poised to strike, prepared to blast the Avatar with everything they had.

This was Shia's opportunity.

Zuko had his eyes shut when she leapt down and shattered the chains with her guandao, so he didn't realise it had happened till moments later. The sound of the doors grinding open was loud enough to mask the clang of the chains falling to the ground.

"Ready?" Zhao yelled to his soldiers.

"No, Aang!" Katara's voice overrode the others, but even her struggling did not draw their attention.

"... fire!"

Shia didn't look to see what was happening. It didn't matter. The Avatar was of no concern to her. Grabbing hold of Zuko's wrist, she pulled the prince behind a column just as a blast of flame was hurled at Zhao and his soldiers.

Zuko squinted at her suspiciously, before his eyes widened with realisation and his brows furrowed. Shia withheld a grimace when she recognised his anger, and offered him an awkward smile.

"Let's go."

With that, she tugged the prince down the stairs and away from the Avatar. 

Chapter Text

▽

❝ Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a harder battle. ❞

Plato

▽

TODAY WAS A GOOD DAY TO BE AT SEA, Shia decided, gazing out over the brilliant azure waves. Though she couldn't feel the breeze against her face because of her helmet, she appreciated it anyway.

A day had passed since the events at the Fire Sage temple, and Zuko had been pretty angry about what'd occurred. Surprisingly enough, however, he didn't get angry at her (besides a bit of sulking on the return to the ship). It was a better result than Shia had predicted, given that Zuko was fiercely independent.

Instead of taking his anger out verbally, the prince had been hellbent on training.

"Shia, you're up next," Lieutenant Jee appeared beside her, patting her shoulder in a friendly manner. Shia placed her guandao safely on the deck, alongside the wall, and moved towards Zuko, who was waiting to begin impatiently. He'd shed his usual armour, replacing it with a deep red sleeveless shirt.

Before they could start the training match, however, the ship lurched to the side; sending Shia, Zuko, and Lieutenant Jee crashing into the railing. Shia managed to keep her helmet on, miraculously, and hooked her foot around her guandao before it could slide overboard.

"Someone's changing our course," Zuko seethed, glaring up at the control deck with a suspicious glint in his eyes.

Shia had a feeling that she knew who it was, so it was no surprise that she ended up following Zuko. The prince stormed up to the control room, demanding heatedly, "what's the meaning of this mutiny?! No one told you to change course!"

Shia glanced over to Iroh, who was seated in front of his favourite board game with some of the other soldiers on board. Iroh smiled at her mischievously before speaking.

"Actually, someone did," Iroh began. Zuko spun around to glare at Iroh, clenching his fists. He reminded Shia of an angry cat puffing its fur out. "I assure you, it is a matter of upmost importance, Prince Zuko."

"Is it something to do with the Avatar?!" Zuko mood switched abruptly, his tone shifting from irritation to anticipation.

"Even more urgent!" Iroh brought his hand to his face with a distraught look in his eyes. "I've lost my lotus tile..."

Shia watched as Iroh slid a piece across the board. Zuko's face fell.

"... for my Pai Sho game," Iroh explained. Shia smiled beneath her helmet. "Most people think the lotus tile to be insignificant, but it is essential to the unusual strategy that I employ."

Shia knew that to be true; she'd been defeated in Pai Sho too many times by Iroh's tactics. She'd actually even played with Zuko once (though the prince had flipped the table partway through).

"You changed our course for a stupid lotus tile?" Zuko exclaimed, evidently exasperated.

"See—" Iroh gestured to Zuko, "— you, like most people, underestimate its value. Just give me ten minutes to check the merchants at the port. Hopefully they'll have the lotus tile in stock and I can get on with my life."

Shia smirked at Iroh's words, her attention returning to Zuko when she heard him breathe in deeply. Then, he released his breath with a low growl – exhaling flickers of flame. As smoke filled the room, Iroh smiled widely, eyes squinting.

"I'm lucky to have such an understanding nephew."

▽

Shia treaded behind Iroh dutifully as he browsed the seaside stores for a white lotus piece. So far they'd seen nothing – which meant that checking every single store in the area had been pointless, and a waste of time.

Zuko was going to blow a fuse.

Iroh came to a stop between two stores, where Zuko stood. The prince could have passed off as a statue, to be honest, standing with his feet apart and his arms crossed over his chest. It was terrifying.

"I've checked all the shops on this pier," Iroh explained cheerily, "not a single lotus tile in the entire marketplace!"

"It's good to know this place was a complete waste of time for everyone," Zuko hissed, turning to lean in and glare at his uncle.

"Quite the contrary," Iroh replied, "I always say that the only way to find something you're looking for... is finding something you weren't looking for at a great bargain!"

Soldiers from their ship walked past them with piles of various items in hand. Amongst them, Shia spotted multiple vases, scrolls, and a brass horn. She didn't know what any of the items were for, but she hadn't questioned Iroh when he decided to purchase them.

"You got a Tsungi horn?" Zuko questioned.

"For music night on the ship!" Iroh beamed, "now, if we only had some woodwinds... Shia, if I recall correctly... you play the flute, don't you?"

"She plays?" Zuko asked incredulously, as he turned to face the girl. Though he couldn't see her face due to the helmet, he could tell from her posture that she felt awkward/

"... I do," Shia whispered, just loud enough for the two to hear. "Not very well, though..."

"Nonsense!" Iroh laughed heartily, clapping the girl on the back, "you play beautifully!"

Shia's face heated up at the compliment. It was uncommon for people to compliment her on anything that wasn't combat-related.

"... thank you for the compliment."

Zuko stared at her for a moment, and it felt as though he were trying to see through the visor of her helmet. Shia tensed. Then Iroh stepped between them, and his nephew's piercing gaze was broken. Shia released a quiet sigh of relief before following.

"This place looks promising!" Iroh pointed at a ship anchored by the pier. Shia squinted at it through her visor. To her, it looked somewhat... shady. It had red sails, and the wood was painted dark. Metal spikes jutted out of the sides – she imagined that they were used in ship-to-ship combat.

'I have a bad feeling about this...'

▽

"Oh, my..." Iroh cooed appreciatively, rubbing a statue which had rubies embedded in its surface, "... this is quite handsome! Wouldn't it look magnificent in the galley?"

Shia raised a brow at the sculpture. On the other side of Iroh stood Zuko, his expression stony. Before Iroh could turn to his nephew, their attention was caught by one of the ship's crew talking to the man at the counter.

"... we lost the Water Tribe girl, and the little bald monk she was travelling with," he claimed. Shia frowned and looked over to Zuko, only to realise that he was already walking over to the two men.

"This monk," Zuko began, placing his hand on the counter, "did he have an arrow on his head?"

Resisting the urge to sigh, Shia decided to ignore Zuko's obsession with the Avatar and returned her attention to Iroh, who was making funny faces at a toy monkey.

▽

The rocking motion of the ship was familiar and comforting, even though they were surrounded by pirates. Shia stood on the deck behind Zuko, who had just finished negotiating a deal with the Captain of the crew.

It turned out that Shia's apprehension regarding the ship had been all too justified; the ship was the property of a group of notorious pirates who stole valuables and sold them to the unsuspecting passer-by for profit. Zuko had been quite enthusiastic about the chase (in his own little way), and they'd returned to the ship to fetch a smaller boat before heading out to journey down the river where the Avatar had been sighted.

"Shouldn't we stop to search the woods?" the captain, a burly man with a colourful parrot on his shoulder, asked Zuko.

"We don't need to stop," Zuko responded confidently. "They stole a water bending scroll, right?"

The Captain responded with an affirmative hum.

"Then they'll be on the water."

▽

By the time the crew had finally found – well, heard – signs of another person's presence, the sky was dark. Shia recognised the voice from the few times she'd heard it; Katara, the water bender.

With a groan, the ship released its anchor and pulled up alongside the riverbank. Zuko didn't bother waiting for the plank to lower, instead launching himself over the side – left without a choice, Shia could only follow. Zuko had already disappeared into the thick greenery, so Shia decided to simply follow Katara's voice. It wasn't long before she emerged from the bushes and caught sight of the younger girl, standing just ahead of her.

Shia crept towards Katara, only to pause when a brawny pirate appeared and attempted to grab the girl. Katara splashed him in the face with water from the river and turned to run – only to fall straight into Shia's waiting arms. Shia locked her fingers around Katara's wrists with ease. Katara flailed wildly, but Shia ignored her attempts at resistance and waited silently until Zuko emerged from the treeline with a smirk on his lips.

"Don't worry," Zuko grinned wickedly, "we'll save you from the pirates."

▽

"Tell me where he is, and I won't hurt you or your brother."

Shia resisted the urge to yawn, leaning against her guandao tiredly. Beside her was Iroh, and ahead of them Zuko, interrogating Katara (who'd been tied to a tree). On the riverbank stood the pirates, eyeing them distrustfully, and at the treeline stood the other soldiers.

"Go jump in the river!" Katara snapped at him, her crystalline eyes glinting silver in the moonlight. Shia watched Zuko step forward, uncannily calm, as he began to circle the girl like a shark.

"Try to understand," Zuko began gently, though there was an undercurrent of fierceness beneath his facade, "I need to capture him to restore something I've lost... my honour. Perhaps, in exchange, I can restore something you've lost."

Zuko lifted his hand, revealing to Katara and those in the surroundings a necklace with a deep blue strap and a pale silver pendant. Clearly, it was of Water Tribe origins. Shia frowned. When had Zuko taken that?

"My mother's necklace!" Katara jolted. Her eyes wide, she glared at Zuko furiously. "... how did you get that?!"

"I didn't steal it, if that's what you're wondering," Zuko smirked, and pulled away from Katara with the necklace pinched between his fingers. "Tell me where he is."

"No," Katara replied firmly. Shia felt a brief flash of admiration for the girl overcome her, before she averted her gaze silently.

"Enough of this necklace garbage!" the pirate captain began gruffly, "you promised us the scroll!"

Zuko smirked and held out a hand to Shia, who passed him the scroll reluctantly. It contained water bender techniques that she'd never seen before – and that she'd probably never have access to again. She couldn't refuse to hand it over, though, unless she wanted Zuko to kill her.

Besides, Shia had already snuck a peek earlier. The scroll's contents had been memorised.

"I wonder how much money this is worth," Zuko began cunningly, lifting the scroll as he lit a flame on his fingertip. The pirates all instantly tensed up. "A lot, apparently... now, if you help me find what I want, you'll get this back, and everyone goes home happy. Search the woods for the boy and meet back here!" 

Chapter Text

▽

❝ We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses. ❞

Abraham Lincoln

▽

THE AVATAR HAD BEEN CAPTURED.

After a whole night of alertness, Shia wanted nothing more than to sleep. None of the soldiers had been able to rest, thanks to Zuko's insistence that the Avatar could be brought in at any moment. The boy had been captured, eventually; though it was now sunrise, and they'd spent the entire night waiting for him to be found.

Shia held in a yawn, her eyes tearing up slightly. If Iroh weren't out there with them, she'd have ignored Zuko's demands entirely.

Katara was still tied to the tree, too. Shia felt bad for her, but she ignored her guilt as she turned her attention to the pirates, who were walking upstream with Aang and Sokka in tow. Sokka was squirming, but a threatening glare from a pirate coupled with a swing of his sword caused the boy to freeze. Aang, on the other hand, seemed more confused than anything.

"Nice work," Zuko shot the Captain an appreciative look. Zuko's posture alone conveyed his eagerness to have the Avatar in his grasp.

"Aang," Katara began softly, "this is all my fault."

"No, Katara," Aang reassured her, "it isn't."

"... yeah, it kind of is," Iroh interrupted them flatly. For a moment, the scene seemed humorous – at least, until Zuko spoke up.

"Give me the boy."

"You give us the scroll," the Captain retorted.

"You're really gonna give up the Avatar for a stupid piece of parchment?!"

Sokka's eyes had widened to the point that his expression was almost comical, though Shia detected a trace of cunning lurking in the depths. Ignoring how he behaved, it was clear that he was the actual brains behind the group.

"Don't listen to him!" Zuko hissed at the Captain, "he's trying to turn us against each other!"

"... your friend is the Avatar?"

Sokka's lips curled into a smirk as he shuffled over to the Captain. "Sure is! I bet he'll fetch a lot more on the black market than some fancy scroll!"

The captain seemed to be considering the boy's words for a moment, but then Zuko interrupted (as usual, in a furious tone):

"Shut your mouth, you Water Tribe peasant!"

Zuko was truly becoming more and more sporadic. Sometimes, unnervingly calm; others, brash and fiery. Shia found his behaviour to have deteriorated greatly since they first met each other when his journey commenced. It was as if he'd been simmering within the ship, and each day was one closer to his boiling point...

"Yeah, Sokka," Aang said, shooting his companion an irritated look, "you really should shut your mouth..."

Shia blinked. Did Aang not realise Sokka's plan? By revealing Aang's identity, he was planting seeds of discord amongst the pirates and Zuko.

In other words, he was orchestrating their escape.

"I'm just saying, it's business sense. Just imagine how much the Fire Lord would pay for the Avatar..." Sokka trailed off with a knowing look on his face as the pirates developed delighted expressions. "You guys would be set for life!"

"Keep the scroll," the Captain said finally, turning to leave with his crew and the captives, "we could buy a hundred with the reward we get from the kid."

Zuko's face twisted, before he hissed, "you'll regret breaking a deal with me."

Immediately, Zuko and two of the soldiers crouched into bending stances and shot blasts of fire at the pirates.

Shia twirled her guandao and vaulted over them to rush at the pirates. One of them, clad in green, ran at her. Shia noted the presence of a few stone-like items in his hands, and prepared to deflect them. He threw them deftly, and she successfully managed to redirect one so that it fell harmlessly into the river. A few others landed behind her, immediately releasing thick black smoke into the air. The culprit disappeared into the smoke, cackling all the while.

Shia couldn't see the other soldiers, nor Iroh, Zuko or Katara. She'd delve into the smoke, but with her mid-range weapon fighting would be disastrous. Her interference would only end up hurting the other soldiers. Luckily, three pirates sprung from the smoke at her all at once. Keeping both hands on the shaft, Shia planted a firm kick in the chest of the first, before falling into a low crouch and entering a spinning low kick. Together with her guandao, she knocked the other two onto their backs before returning to a standing position.

"Are you so busy fighting that you cannot see your own ship set sail?!"

Shia blinked once, then twice, before looking to the riverbank. Iroh was right. The pirate's boat was being stolen.

"We have no time for your proverbs, Uncle!" Zuko yelled. They were somewhere behind the fading smokescreen, so Shia couldn't see them, but it wasn't too difficult to visualise the two males.

"It's no proverb!" Iroh retorted sassily.

The pirate Captain cursed and immediately began to sprint after the boat with his lackeys, leaving Shia to make her way over to her mentor. Zuko was laughing hysterically at the comical sight of the pirates chasing their boat, but his laughter was cut off abruptly when he noticed his own boat trailing after it, with the pirates on board snickering and making faces at the prince.

"Hey! That's my boat!"

"... maybe it should be a proverb," Iroh said to himself with a thoughtful expression. Shia was unable to contain her laughter.

"Come on, Uncle, Shia!" Zuko called over his shoulder, having already begun to sprint after the captain. Shia broke into a controlled jog after the prince, with Iroh right behind her complaining about how he was out of shape. Up ahead, further down the river, Shia could sense that the water dropped abruptly. A waterfall.

'Looks like we'll be walking back to the ship,' Shia thought to herself glumly. By the time they'd made it to the cliffside, the boat had already tipped over the edge and been crushed. The groaning and the sound of wood splintering assured her that they wouldn't be recovering it anytime soon.

"My boat!" Zuko wailed, throwing his arms into the air exasperatedly. Shia stopped behind him and looked over to Iroh, who was panting with his hands on his knees.

When Iroh finally recovered his breath, he laughed to himself quietly.

"Prince Zuko, you're really going to get a kick out of this—" Iroh reached into his sleeve and retrieved a wooden tile from within it, "—the lotus tile was in my sleeve the whole time!"

Shia's shoulders trembled with silent laughter as Zuko began to breathe in and out deeply. He was livid. Turning, the prince snatched the tile from his uncle's hand, before hurling it over the cliff with an enraged roar.

Sure, things were tough, but at least Shia had company. Life on the ship wasn't all that glamorous in comparison to her room back in the Fire Nation... but here, she wasn't alone. She had a mentor in Iroh, and although they knew nothing of her, the other soldiers were welcoming... and she had someone she could relate to in Zuko, even if neither of them knew it.

Shia was happy, chasing the Avatar and his group of friends, not knowing what the future held for her.

In her opinion, uncertainty was better than isolation.

▽

The woods were bathed in the deep blue of late-night, with a plethora of crickets and other creatures chirping and making a ruckus in the background. Shia breathed, first in then out, before allowing the tension in her shoulders to dissipate.

She felt calm at night.

This was especially true when Shia could see the moon as she could now – floating in a sea of inky darkness, soothing her mind and enhancing her powers. Water benders thrived in the moonlight, and although she was concealing her heritage her mind still embraced that aspect of her.

It was a secret that only she knew of, a secret she'd take to her grave.

The rest of Shia's companions were scattered across the clearing, resting silently. The prince had been reluctant to 'waste time' resting when he could have been chasing the Avatar, but his uncle had insisted that they recuperate after losing sleep for so long.

Thankfully.

Shia would have fallen asleep while they were walking if they hadn't stopped. She couldn't remove her helmet since there were others around, and ended up falling asleep seated upright, her back leant against a tree. Laying in her lap was her guandao, the blade glinting in the moonlight, crimson tassel swaying in the breeze.

Aa little way away from the soldiers, in a clearing with a single tree, sat Zuko, who was sulking like a whiny child. He seemed uninterested in rest and was instead glaring at the sky heatedly as if he believed that Aang would fly by at any given moment.

"Prince Zuko," Iroh stepped into the clearing, gazing at his nephew, "you must rest. We have a while yet before we return to the port."

"... this is a waste of time," Zuko gritted, turning his gaze on his uncle, "we should be on the move."

"Now, now," Iroh smiled and sat down beside Zuko, his legs crossed, "everyone is exhausted. No one got to sleep last night, and we need them rested in case we run into anyone... even Shia's fallen asleep, though she hasn't taken her helmet off..."

At the mention of the mysterious girl, Zuko's eyes took on a calculative edge. This was his opportunity to squeeze information about her out of Iroh. The fact that he knew next to nothing about someone who was potentially a threat to him bothered him significantly. After all, he hadn't realised that Shia was a she for two years! What right did his uncle have to hide something like her identity? What was she, a fugitive? A killer?

"Speaking of her," Zuko began, "why are you mentoring her? There are plenty of other people who wanted to be taught by you..."

"... I can't say I picked her myself," Iroh said finally, his usually cheerful disposition fading slightly. "Her family is regarded highly by the Fire Lord."

"So... she used her status?" Zuko questioned curiously. That was odd; if her family was so highly regarded, why was she a soldier?

"No, no," Iroh shook his head, "not that. She was sent to me by her grandfather. I guess you could say that her relationship with her relatives is... estranged."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"... it's not my place to say, Prince Zuko," Iroh said softly. "If you want to know, you must ask her yourself. Just know this... the two of you aren't as different as you may believe."

Iroh stood and made to leave. As his uncle's figure disappeared into the woods, Zuko frowned, and his hand moved to brush against the scar marking his face.

"She wants to regain her honour?"

Chapter Text

▽

❝ Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that. ❞

Martin Luther King Jr

▽

THE SKY WAS A BRIGHT SHADE OF BLUE, though there was a slight chill in the air.

"There's a storm coming," Iroh said aloud, gazing up at the sky. "A big one."

Shia glanced at her mentor from the table she was seated behind in seiza, her legs tucked beneath her and a tea kettle cradled in her gloved hands. Considering she was still in her Fire Nation armour and helmet, and how buff the armour made her look, the image was ridiculous.

"You're out of your mind, Uncle!" Zuko retorted, collapsing the spyglass in his hands before gesturing to the blue skies above. "The weather is perfect! There's not a cloud in sight!"

"... A storm is approaching from the north," Iroh continued. Shia nodded to herself, having noticed the presence of an unusual amount of water in the sky from that direction. "I suggest that we alter our course and head south-west."

Zuko scowled deeply and moved forward, clasping his arms behind his back. He looked like he was about to deliver another lecture.

"We know the Avatar is heading northward, so we will do the same."

Iroh, wise as always, continued to urge his nephew. "Prince Zuko, consider the safety of the crew!"

"The safety of the crew doesn't matter—" Zuko began, only to cut himself off when he noticed Lieutenant Ji coming up the stairs onto the deck. Ji shot him a disapproving look, making it clear that he'd heard what Zuko had said.

Zuko seemed somewhat intimidated by the older man, before regaining his usual boldness and taking a few short strides forward to glare at him face-to-face. "Finding the Avatar is more important than the individual's safety."

Zuko then turned tail and stormed off to the control room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Sighing internally, Shia poured a second cup of tea before rising and offering it to the Lieutenant, as if the herbal blend was supposed to resolve what had just occurred.

"He doesn't mean that," Iroh told the man, nodding towards Shia appreciatively, "he's just worked up."

Ji took the ceramic cup from Shia, if only out of respect, and sipped it quietly.

The ship's soldiers had a good impression of Shia, even if she wasn't aware of it. Despite being silent and unseen, she'd built a strong rapport with her crewmates. His actions alone built the image of a solid, reliable person.

"Thank you," Ji told her, though Shia could sense that his mind was elsewhere.

▽

Shia peered up at the storm clouds gathering above the ship, breathing in the cool air, wishing that she could remove her helmet. Ji and some of the other men aboard the ship were muttering to themselves about Zuko's words from earlier whilst Iroh tried to soothe their nerves.

"Huh," Ji began when Zuko returned to the deck, "looks like your Uncle was right about the storm after all!"

"It was a lucky guess," Iroh lied. He was attempting to diffuse the situation, but both of the other men acted as though he hadn't spoken at all.

"Lieutenant!" Shia watched with wide eyes as Zuko turned around with one of his award-winning scowls, stomping over to Ji until they were chest-to-chest. "You better learn some respect, or I will teach it to you."

Shia grimaced at his words. Zuko's reputation was deteriorating with every word that came out of his mouth. The soldiers disliked Zuko enough already; every time he gave an order, they would follow it begrudgingly... but he was tipping the scales towards mutiny with every action (and inaction) he made.

Just as Zuko turned to walk towards the bow of the ship, Ji spoke.

"What do you know of respect?!"

Zuko paused. Shia just knew that he was glowering at the horizon the way he always did, probably with the corners of his lips downturned. "The way you talk to everyone around here, from your hard-working crew to your esteemed uncle, shows you know nothing about respect. You don't care about anyone but yourself!"

Shia noticed Iroh crossing his arms in an 'x'. He was trying to discourage Lieutenant Ji from scolding Zuko. Sadly, neither of the two were looking in his direction.

"... then again, what else should I expect from a spoiled prince?"

Even from so far away, Shia could sense Zuko's mood worsening. She would bet a thousand Ban that his eyebrow was twitching.

Zuko spun on his heel, hands moving upwards into an open-palm firebender stance. Shia felt the atmosphere grow even more tense as Ji responded similarly.

"Easy, now..." Iroh cautioned. It was almost too late for him to interfere. In moments it would become a matter of honour... and everyone knew how seriously Zuko took that subject.

Shia readied herself to interfere, knowing what Iroh's intentions were, and stepped forward.

Ji and Zuko both moved slash at one another, forearms crossing in a distinct 'x' as they collided. Shia heard a sizzle. Smoke rose from their connected limbs.

"Enough!" Iroh demanded. He slapped their arms to force them apart, and Shia quickly brought her guandao between them to ensure they stayed that way. "We all are a bit tired from being at so long... I'm sure that, after a bowl of noodles, everyone will feel a bit better."

Zuko's face was reminiscent of an angry cat's, and Ji was no different. They both turned away from one another, and Ji walked away immediately with a quiet growl – prompting Shia to return her guandao to standby. She trailed after Iroh, who was beside Zuko.

"I don't need your help keeping order on my ship," Zuko hissed. Iroh placed a hand on his nephew's shoulder comfortingly, only for the prince to pull himself away with an enraged growl. Shia began to unconsciously relate him to a cat in her mind.

Shia watched as Zuko turned to stare broodingly at the horizon, moving to stand at the bow of the ship once more. Iroh watched him go sadly. It hurt Shia to see that her mentor was upset.

Iroh had been more to a parent to her than anyone else; and under his tutelage, she'd grown a lot. Perhaps that was why she carried some strange respect for Zuko. The prince was someone Iroh had always spoken highly of, and Shia had been shocked on the first day of their voyage on the boat when Zuko turned out to be the most hot-headed person she had ever met. But she also knew that his motives were much like hers; to gain the love of his parent.

However, unlike the prince, Shia had given up on that ideal. She had realised that love from a parent didn't need to be earnt.

That was the way she saw it, anyway.

Shia took a deep breath and moved to stand beside Zuko. They were quiet for a moment, with only the hum of the engine below their feet and the lapping of the waves against the hull to accompany them. The other soldiers and Iroh had already retreated to below deck.

"Why are you here?" Zuko began in a harsh tone, voice low and tense with anger. He was clearly struggling to keep his temper in check (not that he ever did that).

"... the view from here is nice."

Zuko's bafflement was almost tangible.

"There is literally a storm cloud above us, and you're interested in the view?"

Shia almost laughed, but she managed to keep a cool, neutral tone. "The storm doesn't detract from the sea's beauty, does it?"

"Don't tell me that's one of my Uncle's proverbs," Zuko rolled his eyes.

Shia looked to him with an unseen smile. "It isn't."

Then began the downpour.

"Still think the view is nice?" Zuko inquired dryly.

Before Shia could say anything, he turned tail and left. She waited for him to disappear through the door before she made for her own room. She'd finally be able to remove the armour and take a nap now that the storm had arrived, and no one else would be out. Shia's footsteps echoed in the dark halls, and the subtle patter of water droplets dripping from her armour made it seem all the more disturbing. At night, the ship felt almost abandoned – Shia hated wandering around at this time, when all the crew members were either asleep or safely tucked away sharing a drink or two.

It was too... quiet. The silence was deafening. Sure, there was the rainfall and the waves and the engine; but those weren't people.

Shia had, admittedly, developed a phobia of being alone. It was due in part to her childhood. She never wanted to go back to living that way. Becoming Iroh's apprentice had chased the silence away, but every time there was a dip in the noise Shia feared she'd awaken from her dream and return to that life. 

Chapter Text

▽

❝ Man is the only predator who hunts his own. ❞

Kenneth Eade

▽

THE DELICATE AROMA OF TEA permeated the air inside the room.

"Mmn...." Iroh hummed appreciatively, sipping from his tea cup, "see, Prince Zuko? A moment of quiet is good for your mental wellbeing."

Shia and the two royals were seated around the table in the prince's meditation room, which was pretty ugly in Shia's humble opinion. As if trying to make up for the dull metal walls, a few crimson tapestries sporting the emblem of the Fire Nation had been draped in the corners. Behind Shia was another table, with four lit candles and a giant wooden carving of a dragon hung up on the wall behind it.

Overall, the room left her questioning Zuko's interior designer.

As her mentor spoke, Shia poured the prince his own cup of tea. She had removed her helmet for the time being, since none of the other soldiers entered the room (unless they were invited in).

Of course, she'd left her mask in place. She wasn't quite ready to take it off in front of other people.

After Shia had placed the pot down, Zuko lifted his cup and looked at its contents apprehensively.

Shia was trying so hard not to laugh at him. Combined with Zuko's pose – sitting cross-legged, spine stiff, one hand resting on his thigh with the elbow jutting out – it was nearly impossible not to.

Shia's attempts to remain neutral were foiled when the ship jolted just as Zuko made to take a sip. The cup swung upwards, almost in slow motion, before emptying its contents onto Zuko's face. He spluttered, taking a moment to register what had occurred, and pushed his dripping ponytail (which had flopped over) away from his face. Then Zuko got up, growled, and stormed off to investigate the source of his humiliation.

Iroh looked over to Shia fondly, as she began to laugh as soon as Zuko was out of sight.

"We should see what the commotion is about," Iroh smiled and placed his teacup on the table, eyes crinkling at the corners.

After finally reining in her laughter, Shia regained her usual composure. She stood and put her helmet on, but not before turning to her mentor.

"You have to admit, that was funny..."

Iroh grinned mischievously. "It certainly was."

▽

When they got above deck, the two ended up behind Zuko, flanked by the ship's soldiers. Shia had snagged her guandao on their way up and was already prepared to stab whatever came at them.

"Look out," one of the men ahead of Zuko warned, just as a blur of brown fur leapt onto the deck. Shia stared at the odd, mole-like creature for a moment before noticing the dark-haired woman atop it. Was she here to attack them?

"Get back!" the woman yelled. The mole-creature she was aboard stomped forward. It was massive – taller than all of the soldiers aboard, at least, and as long as three men laying down. Shia's grip on her weapon tightened in anticipation. "We're after a stowaway."

Zuko seemed offended by the notion, as he replied immediately, stepping forward, "there are no stowaways on my ship!"

Ignoring him, the creature suddenly dipped its head and ripped the metal floor up with a snarl. It then threw the remaining metal at them. Shia squeezed between Iroh and Zuko in time to kick the metal aside before it could strike them. The beast shoved its head into the hole it had created, grunting when an older man clad in green suddenly clambered out of the gap. He ran straight towards Shia, the panic in his eyes evident. Before he could reach her the animal lashed out with its barbed tongue and knocked him to the floor. He seemed unable to move.

"He's paralysed..." Zuko murmured.

"Only temporarily," the woman leapt off her steed and reached over to grab the man she'd hunted down. With surprising ease, despite her slender physique, she lifted him by the collar of the shirt and slung him over her shoulder. "By then, he'll be in jail, and I'll have my money."

The woman – a bounty hunter, Shia realised – turned to leave.

"But how did you find him on my ship?" Zuko interrupted. The bounty hunter paused as she made to get onto the saddle.

"My shirshu can smell a rat a continent away," she said, patting the creature's side fondly.

"Well," began Iroh as the woman lashed her whip, "I'm impressed."

The shirshu sprung over the rail and raced away, claws pounding against the wooden dock.

"Very impressed..." Iroh continued with a certain look in his eyes. Shia and Zuko raised their brows at the retired general, before looking to one another as if they knew what was going through his mind.

▽

Shia made sure the straps securing her guandao to her back were fastened properly before following Zuko and Iroh into the bar. It was an odd establishment, built alongside the river, so deep in the woods that she was surprised anyone would bother travelling to it. They were there to have the bounty hunter from earlier in the day track down the Avatar with Katara's necklace.

In order to avoid garnering the suspicion of patrons, Shia had shed her helmet. They wouldn't react well to Fire Nation armour, let alone the imposing helmets which the soldiers wore – not to mention, it was nice to feel the air on her face.

Well, the upper half of her face, at least. As always, her dark mask hugged the skin of her lower face, concealing her visage from the world.

When the trio walked into the crowded building they found the hunter at the centre of a ring of men, competing in an arm wrestle with a muscular man. They'd already known she'd be inside after spotting the slumbering shirshu outside the building.

"Out of my way," Zuko demanded, shoving one of the men aside ruthlessly. "Step aside, filth!"

"He means no offence," Iroh insisted as he trailed after his nephew, "I'm certain you bathe regularly."

One of the men made a growling sound and stepped towards Iroh's retreating back, seemingly planning to launch an attack. Shia shot him a heated glare. When his eyes met with hers, he seemed to reconsider attacking, and backed off.

By the time Shia re-joined her mentor and the prince, the crowd had grown even more excited.

"I need to talk to you," Zuko began hotly, glaring down at the seated woman.

"Well, if it isn't my new friends... angry boy, uncle lazy and... who might this be? A cute girl?"

Iroh laughed heartily out of delight that the woman recognised him, whilst Zuko seemed irritated by his new title. Shia just stared at her questioningly. Abruptly, the woman slammed her hand down and ended the competition with an undeniable victory. The crowd went wild and began throwing money onto the table.

"Your beast trashed my ship," Zuko said harshly, "you have to pay me back!

"Aw... I'd love to help you out, but I'm a little short on money," the woman grinned at him mischievously, gathering up the money she'd received by winning into a pile. "Drinks on me!"

The bar erupted with more cheering. Zuko looked ready to implode. Shia wondered if the table would make a good shelter in the event that he did combust. Probably not. The woman went to take a sip of her drink, only to have Zuko grab her wrist.

"Money isn't what I had in mind."

▽

"I need you to find someone," Zuko held Katara's necklace up to June, the bounty hunter.

"What happened?" June leant against the shirshu, a smirk on her lips, "your girlfriend run off on you?"

"It's not the girl I'm after," Zuko replied. He wasn't even slightly fazed by the suggestion that he was dating Katara. "It's the bold monk she's travelling with."

"Whatever you say."

"If you can find them, I'll consider the damage to my ship paid for."

June chuckled and turned to climb onto the saddle. "Forget it."

"Plus, we'll pay your weight in gold," Iroh suggested. June stopped and turned with a smile, and Shia realised that this was her plan the entire time.

"Make it your weight in gold, and we've got a deal," she said. Shia tensed when June's sharp gaze shifted to the girl.

"You got it—"

"And, I get to see her face."

Iroh froze. Zuko looked incredulous. Shia shifted uncomfortably, but from the look June was giving her, she wouldn't be moving until the deed was done. Zuko would have her head if they lost this opportunity.

Sighing inwardly, Shia stepped forward and angled herself away from Zuko and Iroh. She'd rather not have to answer any of the prince's questions later on, so it was better her face remained unseen. June grew impatient and stepped forward to snag the cloth, tugging it down so that the fabric bunched around Shia's neck instead.

A smirk curved the woman's lips upwards as she analysed Shia's appearance closely, her gaze lingering slightly before she looked back to Shia's eyes.

"Ha!" June winked at Shia, who flushed crimson, "I knew it! My cute girl sensor is never wrong!"

Shia tugged her mask back up with a tell-tale tinge of pink staining her features, crossing her arms. "Was... was that it?"

"Yep!" June sashayed past her and snatched the necklace off of Zuko, presenting the item to her shirshu. As the creature sniffed it, the Fire Nation trio got onto the saddle. Iroh was insistent on being in front (probably because June would be), so Shia ended up at the very back behind Zuko. June leapt up gracefully and grabbed the reins.

Then the world around them turned into a blur.

▽

They travelled throughout the night nonstop, and that made things difficult for Shia (a devout lover of sleep). Much like the time she and Zuko had rescued Iroh from the Earth Kingdom soldiers, she nodded off multiple times – nearly using the alert prince as a pillow. She was thankful that they did stop, albeit shortly, for Iroh to use the bathroom. She'd used the opportunity to splash her face with cold river water.

Later in the day, when the sun was above them, the group came along an Earth Kingdom village. Many of the villages ran away screaming as the shirshu came to a halt in front of a massive building with ornate doors. At the entrance was an austere-looking elderly woman wearing fine robes and jewellery. She was completely unfazed by the appearance of the panting beast and its riders.

"Why are we stopping?" Zuko yelled to June.

"Because the girl must have spent a lot of time here," June replied, looking around the village from her vantage point.

"We have no time for this!"

Zuko reached past Iroh and snatched the necklace from June, moving to stand in front of the shirshu. It snorted at the scent which it had been tracking, before lashing it's tongue out at Zuko. The prince dodged just barely.

"Hey, watch it!"

Iroh laughed at the sight as June remarked, "Oh look! He likes you."

The elderly woman came to stand beside the shirshu, though her attention was only on Shia's mentor.

"Care to hear your fortune, handsome?"

Shia felt as though she'd just thrown up in her mouth. The expression on her face was mirrored by Zuko, who pulled himself back up onto the shirshu in front of her.

"At my age, there is really only one big surprise left," Iroh began wisely, though Shia could see he was saying it to impress the lady. "I'd just as soon leave it a mystery."

▽

Trees whipped past them as they raced through the woods, the shirshu growing more and more frantic the closer they got. Just minutes ago they'd burst into a monastery where the residents were manufacturing perfume – they'd continued chasing the scent trail, which grew stronger and more potent the closer they got.

Then they were upon the two; Katara and Sokka. The Water Tribe siblings had been trekking alone through the woods when the shirshu leapt up in front of them. Shia could feel the growl it let loose vibrate throughout its body.

"So this is your girlfriend?" June asked curiously. "No wonder she left... she's too pretty for you."

Ignoring the bounty hunter, Zuko leapt down and strode towards the two purposefully.

"Where is he?!" he snarled, "where's the Avatar?!"

"We split up," Sokka replied defensively, shoving his sister behind him, "he's long gone!"

"How stupid do you think I am?"

"... pretty stupid. Run!"

Sokka grabbed Katara's wrist before they both made a break for it. Before they could get far, the shirshu lashed out with its tongue and paralysed them both. They crumpled to the ground uselessly.

"What are we supposed to do now?" Zuko asked. The shirshu lashed its tail back and forth, excited that it had captured the prey it was tracking. June clicked her tongue, and it prowled forward to sniff Katara and Sokka.

"It's seeking a different scent," June informed the three aloud. "Perhaps something that the Avatar held."

The shirshu snuffled around Sokka's backpack, knocking a scroll loose from the top. It immediately stilled before lifting its head to sniff the air. June got down and hoisted the two siblings up, throwing them onto the shirshu's rump with ease. Then, they bolted.

"Hey!" Zuko yelled, realising that they were taking off without him, "What about me?!"

Shia managed to grasp his raised fist just in time, pulling the prince onto the saddle. Zuko shifted until he was seated safely in front of her. Shia realised that she was still holding his hand, and released it hastily, instead resting her hands on the sides of the saddle.

That would have been awkward (well, more awkward than it already was).

"... thanks," Zuko said curtly.

They burst back into the monastery before Shia could reply. The residents of the place all began to scream and cower behind the clay pots that lined the open space, leaving the shirshu to circle about the area anxiously.

"Why's it going in a circle?!"

Before June could reply, Shia looked up and saw the Avatar above them. His staff was keeping him aloft in the air; as soon as they realised he was there, he swooped down towards them. Shia had a bad feeling that she'd be thrown to the floor soon.

She was right.

Aang pulled upwards just before the creature could get him, causing it to rear back and throw all of its passengers off. Shia tucked into a roll, instinctively grabbing her guandao as she pulled up into a standing position.

June leapt back onto the shirshu quickly, lashing her whip to hasten it, only for both steed and rider to be thrown into a wall by a headbutt from Aang's bison. Aang looked pleased, but his smile faded when he looked back to see that Zuko had risen. Shia, on the other hand, was busy helping Iroh up. The two Water Tribe siblings had been taken from the scene by two drably dressed citizens.

Shia didn't pay much attention to the actual fight between Zuko and Aang, but at some point, they caused a huge explosion that launched both into the rooftops.

"Should I interfere?" she asked her mentor.

"No, my nephew will be fine," the older man replied plainly.

Iroh recovered and went to check on June, who seemed to have fallen unconscious – she reawakened quickly, though, and lashed her whip at the collapsed shirshu once more. It got to its feet and both darted off towards the Avatar with even more motivation than earlier. The bison tried to attack them once more but was struck by the shirshu's barbed tongue mid-leap, forcing it to the ground. Shia didn't bother watching the remainder of their fight, but she did notice that the bison got back up, and June got thrown off again.

Aang and Zuko were engaged in a rooftop battle wielding their individual elements, Zuko with fire and Aang with air. Shia followed Iroh. He was admiring a few brightly coloured vials to the side; perfumes.

Zuko had begun chasing Aang around a well. When Aang hid behind the wooden pillars holding the roof over the well up, Zuko destroyed them. They started to fight whilst balancing on the wall bordering the well, only for Aang to kick the prince away and snag Katara's necklace with his foot. He then leapt down the well. Zuko jumped back onto the wall and sent a blast of fire down with an angry shout, but Aang waterbended Zuko into the air. The prince ended up landing on his face, dripping with water, his ponytail sopping. Before he could attack, the bison came to defend Aang. It was once more attacked by June and the shirshu.

Unable to handle the poison in his system, the bison collapsed. The battle continued with Zuko, June and the shirshu against Aang. Shia was glad she didn't need to participate. She had no interest in hurting the Avatar or his friends.

Iroh was her priority.

Maybe Zuko, too, since Iroh was so close to him.

An intense scent swamped the area. Shia looked to where the other two members of Aang's group had been and saw that the perfume brewers were lining the clay pots up behind Katara. The girl herself began to waterbend the perfume into a giant wave that collided with the shirshu. It snarled and began to shake its head violently, no doubt overwhelmed by the scent. Even Shia felt light-headed at how potent it was.

Zuko, at some point, had returned to his uncle's side. The shirshu lashed out abruptly with its barbed tongue, striking the prince in the chest – Shia switched her guandao to her right hand only and managed to catch Zuko before he face-planted the floor (again). When Shia looked up, June was in front of them, trying to calm her beast. It lashed out again and hit her accidentally.

"June!" Iroh exclaimed, moving to catch her in slow motion, "Nooooo!"

"Iroh," Shia began frantically, "don't!"

Too late. Luckily, he was spared from the shirshu's attack. Problem being, he was now happily pinned to the ground by June, which made Shia feel mildly disturbed. The shirshu continued to thrash before bolting off, knocking pots to the ground, and breaking through a wall.

"Uncle?" Zuko asked as Shia adjusted her hold on him, "I didn't see you get hit...?"

"Shh," Iroh hushed his nephew with a discreet smile. Zuko looked confused.

Shia noticed the angry look on June's face. Setting down Zuko so that he could lay limply on the floor (somehow his face still looked angry, though that was probably something that could never be resolved) she helped the paralysed woman by pulling her away from Iroh and setting her down by herself. Iroh sighed disappointedly.

"So..." Shia trailed off, looking to Zuko (Iroh was being unreasonable, so she wasn't going to bother). "... I guess we'll have to wait for the venom to wear off."

Chapter Text

▽

❝ It gives me strength to have somebody to fight for; I can never fight for myself, but, for others, I can kill. ❞

Emilie Autumn

▽

NIGHT DESCENDED UPON THE FIRE NATION CAMP SWIFTLY, leaving Zhao to speak with his council of advisors about their next move.

"He's heading north, to the Northern Water Tribe," Zhao muttered, turning his attention away from the faded map on the wall to survey the men behind him, "the Avatar needs to master water bending. He's looking for a teacher."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Captain Lee questioned, raising his fist aggressively, "let's go get him!"

"Patience, Captain. This isn't just some little Earth village that we can march into. The Water Tribe is a great nation," Zhao paced the length of the tent, continuing, "the frozen tundra is treacherous. The landscape itself is an icy fortress... we'll need a massive invasion force."

▽

Shia watched the flames flicker within the brazier broodingly, contemplating the events of the past few days. After the paralysis had worn off she's returned to the ship with Iroh and Zuko, leaving June and her shirshu at the bar. After a day of travel, they'd finally dropped anchor for the night at an isolated dock. As usual, Zuko was sulking in his room, upset about having missed his opportunity to capture the Avatar again. Iroh was making merry with the other soldiers, whilst Shia watched on sleepily. The singing was just about to begin.

Lieutenant Ji gently strummed his instrument as two of the other soldiers, dressed casually now that they were off duty, worked up a beat with a pair of small drums. Iroh began to sing along to the music jovially, swaying to the beat.

"Winter, spring... summer and fall~ Winter, spring.... Summer and fall~  Four seasons.... Four loves~ Four seasons.... Four loves—"

Iroh was cut off by the clank of metal against the floor of the ship as a group of three soldiers marched onto the ship. Shia rose to her feet hastily, grabbing her guandao, as her companions followed suit. It was only once the other group had approached the flames that she was able to discern the identities of the intruders: Commander Zhao and his soldiers.

▽

Zhao had come to transfer the soldiers aboard to his own fleet. He'd been promoted to the rank of Admiral, which granted him the authority to take everyone on board – besides the royalty themselves, and those who served directly beneath them, like Shia. Now she was accompanying Iroh and Zhao to Zuko's room.

Shia knocked lightly to alert Zuko, before pushing the door open. She struggled to find his figure in the darkness – why did he insist on doing his brooding in the dark, again? It was a terrible habit. Shia ignored her own thoughts and stepped to the side, allowing Iroh to enter nervously. He seemed to already know where Zuko was, looking to the corner of the room. Following his gaze, Shia realised that Zuko was leaning against the wall sulkily, his arms crossed over his chest with his legs outstretched across the floor.

"For the last time, Uncle," Zuko began irritably, looking up from the floor to glower at them, "I'm not playing the tsungi horn."

Shia would have laughed if the situation hadn't been so dire. Zuko, playing the tsungi horn? The thought alone was worth millions.

"No," Iroh began hesitantly, "it's not about that.... it's about our plans. There's a bit of a problem..."

Zuko's frown deepened at the words, but his expression quickly shifted to wide-eyed shock when Zhao entered the room. The way Zhao walked alone was enough to convey his smugness at the fact that he'd stolen the crew from Zuko, and his insufferable smirk made Shia want to shove a tsungi horn down his throat.

"I'm taking your crew," Zhao announced. Zuko bolted upright and got to his feet in an instant, taking a few threatening steps forward so that he could glare up at the admiral.

"What?!"

"I've recruited them for a little expedition to the North Pole," Zhao continued calmly, though Shia could sense an undercurrent of anticipation in the man's voice. He was clearly looking to provoke Zuko; their previous encounters were more than enough to indicate that he loathed the prince's existence. Though she couldn't step in, Shia took the time to send a scathing glare at the back of Zhao's head. 

"Uncle," Zuko's gaze shifted to Iroh, probing the man for answers, "is that true?"

"I'm afraid so," Iroh raised his sleeve to dab at his eyes daintily, pouting childishly, "he's taking everyone... even the cook."

Shia's shoulders fell slightly at the reminder. The other soldiers were already packing their belongings under the supervision of Zhao's henchmen, leaving her and Iroh to deliver the news to Zuko. The realisation that the soldiers were leaving left Shia with a deep ache in her heart. After more than two years together with them, she couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie towards the other soldiers... even if they knew nothing about her, they accepted her.

"Sorry you won't be there to watch me capture the Avatar," Zhao began smugly, adding om in a condescending manner, "I can't have you getting in my way again."

After a whole two years listening to Zuko whine and experiencing his temper tantrums, Shia was fully aware that he'd lash out at Zhao. However, that was something Iroh would not want – which meant that she, too, didn't want for it to occur. Even if Zhao was a nasty piece of work, he had a lot of power. Angering him would only be detrimental to their cause.

Because of that, Shia was the one to catch Zuko's wrist before he could strike Zhao. Zuko glared at her through the visor of her helmet, but his anger quickly fizzled out as he glanced over her shoulder to where Zhao was. Shia spared a glance in the direction he was gazing and saw that Zhao was observing a pair of broadswords hung on the wall. The admiral was silent for a time, before he reached out to unhook one from the display. 

Shia felt Zuko's forearm tensing beneath her gloves, as though he were concerned about something. She released her hold on him and took a silent step away so she could keep a steady eye over everyone in the room and interfere if anything else occurred.

Zhao slashed the sword in his hand through the air experimentally, prompting Shia's hold on the shaft of her guandao to tighten. "I didn't know you were skilled with broadswords, Prince Zuko."

"I'm not," Zuko lied, looking away from Zhao's intense stare. "They're antiques... just decorative."

Both Shia and Iroh knew that was a lie. Sword-fighting was one of Zuko's talents – the question was, why did he want to hide that from Zhao?

"Have you heard of the Blue Spirit, General Iroh?" Zhao's attention shifted to Iroh all of a sudden, as he changed the topic abruptly.

"Just rumours," Iroh began, his gaze unwavering, "I don't think he is real."

"He's real, alright," Zhao moved to stand in front of the three, offering the handle of the sword to Iroh. "He's a criminal, and an enemy of the Fire Nation... but I have a feeling that justice will catch up with him soon."

Iroh took the sword, leaving Zhao to leave the room with a suspicious glint in his eyes. He stopped at the threshold of the room, his back turned to them.

"General Iroh, the offer to join my mission still stands... if you change your mind."

Zhao closed the door behind himself.

Shia knew that Zhao had something planned. He wouldn't have sounded so confident, so sure of himself, if he hadn't come up with an evil scheme. She was certain that Iroh had picked up on it too.

"...I really hate that man," Shia muttered to herself. To her surprise, Zuko replied.

"I do, too."

▽

Zhao sat in his tent behind his desk, face illuminated ominously by a flickering lamp.

"You all seem highly qualified for the mission I have in mind," he began, nodding to the small chest on the desk in front of him. The man Zhao was speaking to was familiar: the pirate captain Zuko had made an enemy of not long ago, alongside his lizard parrot and the remnants of the crew. At Zhao's gesture, the captain opened the chest, his eyes lighting up with greed as he eyed the glittering piles of gold held within. After drinking in the sight, he snapped the chest shut and shoved it aside, leaning over the table towards Zhao secretively.

"What do you need us to do?"

The unpleasant darkness in Zhao's eyes only grew more prominent as his lips lifted into a wicked smile.

"I believe you know Prince Zuko."

▽

"Well..." Lieutenant Ji shouldered the bag containing his belongings, looking towards Shia and Iroh with a small smile. "It was a pleasure working with you both. I'm sure we'll cross paths once again someday."

Since the moment she'd realised Zhao was transferring the soldiers, Shia had been debating about whether or not to reveal herself. The crew had been good to her, despite her ambiguous identity. When she'd mentioned her temptation to Iroh, he'd encouraged her to be true about her identity towards them – her mentor's approval was the final nail in the coffin.

"... Lieutenant Ji."

The lieutenant froze at the feminine voice and looked about curiously, though he couldn't see anyone on the deck who could've spoken. No one seemed to realise that it was Shia; who would? They were under the illusion that she was a male, not a female.

"Who was that?"

Shia was trembling. It was barely perceptible with her armour concealing the majority of her frame, but she was about to reveal a secret she'd kept from them for years. She was terrified.

Nevertheless, Shia forced her arms to rise and remove the helmet. She'd removed her mask in preparation of this moment.

"... I'm, uh... sorry, that I didn't tell you sooner."

Ji and the other soldiers looked thoroughly shaken. Shia glanced towards Iroh, whose calm expression calmed her down somewhat.

"You were a girl the whole time?!" Lu, one of the engineers, exclaimed. Shia was torn between keeping her head upright and looking at the floor.

"I always had a feeling something was different about you," Ji said finally. Shia was preparing herself for the worst, but tensed when the man wrapped her in a fatherly embrace instead. "I'm sorry you felt the need to hide it from us, but I'm glad you trusted us enough to reveal yourself. It's wonderful to finally put a face to your name."

Shia didn't speak. She was afraid her voice would break if she said anything in response.

"Yeah! Group hug!" Lu cheered from somewhere behind Ji. Suddenly they were both being crushed from all sides by the other soldiers, who jostled and laughed and cried (though no one would admit that last bit).

▽

"Prince Zuko?"

Shia paused in front of the door to Zuko's chamber, knocking lightly on the metal before stepping back awkwardly. She wasn't even sure he was awake or if he was sulking (as per usual). She hadn't seen him since before her revelation to the other soldiers, after which she'd been gathering herself in her own room.

Now, Shia was looking for Iroh. 

There was silence for a moment, before Shia heard an irritable groan resounding from the other side of the door.

"What is it now?" Zuko huffed. Shia watched the handle to the door twist as the prince opened it, glowering at her irritably. Shia smiled awkwardly beneath her mask, the corners lifting slightly.

"Sorry to bother you, Prince Zuko, but I wanted to ask if you knew where Iroh was. I checked everywhere for him, but..."

Zuko crossed his arms and leant against the frame of the door, the sullen expression on his face unchanging. "My uncle went on a walk outside. He should be back soon—"

Shia's gaze snapped towards the other end of the hallway, from where she'd heard a distant clang. Her brows furrowed as she glanced towards Zuko, who'd uncrossed his arms and straightened his posture, glaring towards the source of the sound.

"Iroh?" Shia called suspiciously, taking a step away from Zuko so she could probe the darkness more deeply. When no response came, Zuko pushed past her to head down the hallway. Clearly, he intended to investigate.

Shia followed Zuko closely, leaving her guandao fastened to her back out of consideration for the narrow hallway, straining to hear anything else out of the ordinary. It felt as though every corner hid a threat, and Zuko leaping around the bends like a fool wasn't helping. Shia considered going ahead of him, but reconsidered when she realised that'd put them both at greater risk. They could at least look out for one another if they were together... though that wasn't really Zuko's style. 

They ended up inside the empty control room, at the highest point in the ship besides the watchpoint. This specific room was a popular location for Iroh's Pai Sho games, so Shia found the massive glass windows and metallic control board to be rather familiar. It wasn't the room that was out of ordinary – but there was something odd outside, perched atop the railing.

A lizard parrot.

Shia frowned as she watched the bird spread its wings and launch itself into the air, screeching as it did so.

Then, there was the scream of metal being torn and a searing white flash of heat. Shia heard glass shattering and a muffled scream – Zuko's scream – before she was engulfed by ice cold water. For a moment she was still, barely registering the fact that her shoulder was searing with pain and she was slowly being pulled deeper and deeper beneath the surface of the ocean; for a moment, she hadn't realised that the ship had exploded.

Then, Shia regained her wits. Kicking her legs, she rose to the surface hurriedly, taking a deep, shuddering breath of oxygen in as soon as she broke through the waves. Her eyes teared up in response to the salty water, and she couldn't help coughing as she breathed in thick black smoke from the explosion. Burning pieces of metal littered the surface of the water, making her vision hazy and unreliable.

Shia took in a deep breath, hooking her arm over a piece of floating debris, before cupping a hand around her mouth and yelling.

"Prince Zuko?!"

No response. Shia whipped her head about frantically, searching the surface of the water for any sign of the prince, before noticing the prince's prone figure barely hanging onto a piece of metal, bobbing amongst the waves. Shia steadied her breathing before kicking away from her own piece of debris, using a burst of waterbending to push herself towards him faster. By the time she'd reached him, Zuko was already beginning to slip into the water – prompting Shia to sling his arm over her shoulder, before hastily beginning to paddle to shore.

Shia was exhausted by the time she reached the shore, lugging Zuko onto the sand before plopping down, panting heavily. She could already hear Iroh yelling as he ran towards them from the treeline, and so she was able to collapse without worry.

Only one thought lingered in Shia's mind as she faded into unconsciousness.

She really, really hated Zhao.

Chapter Text

▽

❝ Heavy hearts, like heavy clouds in the sky, are best relieved by the letting of a little water. ❞

Christopher Morley

▽

IT WAS DARK IN THE BELLY OF THE SHIP. Iroh, wearing the crimson robes of a general, walked down the hall of a ship silently. Beside him was none other than Shia in her usual armour, quiet as ever. Another soldier passed them in the hallway, and they all stopped momentarily.

"Our plan is working perfectly," Iroh whispered. "Zhao doesn't suspect a thing."

"You didn't have to do this..." Zuko replied quietly, removing his faceplate to reveal the injuries he'd obtained as a result of the explosion.

"No nephew of mine is going to stow away on a ship without some backup," Iroh insisted. He gestured to the armoured girl beside him, prompting her to chime in softly.

"I don't mind," Shia began, her voice muffled by her helmet. "Besides, Zhao's a jerk."

"Thank you, Uncle..." Zuko began, before he continued (to the girl's surprise). "... and you, too, Shia."

Metal clanged somewhere down the hall.

"Someone's coming," Iroh warned. Zuko slipped the faceplate back into position. "Stay hidden until we get to the North Pole, and the Avatar will be yours. Good luck."

Then the three walked away from each other, as though nothing had occurred.

▽

"My fleet is ready," Zhao smirked to himself, gazing over the fleet of ships from his vantage point at the top deck. Beside him stood Iroh, his arms hidden in his sleeves. Zhao raised an arm into the air, bellowing, "set a course for the Northern Water Tribe!"

The battleship's speed began to increase exponentially as the engines roared to life, smoke streaming from the smokestacks. As if this was the cue, the fleet of Fire Nation cruisers around Zhao all ignited their engines and began to pump acrid smoke out into the atmosphere. All of the smoke produced combined above them, turning the sky sickly grey with smog, as if even the heavens sensed the turmoil below them.

The worst, however, had yet to come.

▽

Shia gazed out over the icy landscape from her position within one of the ship's many launch points, her lips pursed. She was aware of Zuko's plan (or rather, the lack thereof), and had been able to catch the tail end of his conversation with Iroh in this very location just a half hour ago. She was aware of the risks he'd face, and even more so, the heartbreak Iroh would have to face if anything happened to the prince. Zuko was all he had left, after all.

And that was why Shia planned to follow Zuko herself. Iroh had been far kinder to her than her own relatives, and that alone was reason enough for her to feel indebted to the man; keeping an eye on his hot-headed nephew was the least she could do. Iroh was unable to do so himself, because of his position as Zhao's new advisor, so Shia could only seek to do what she could for him from the shadows.

Darkness had settled across the Northern Water Tribe, and the battle had fallen silent with the rise of the moon. Even Zhao would never dare to battle with waterbenders on their own soil when the full moon was empowering them – a fact that would only make Shia's job easier.

The jolt of the boat as it dropped anchor for the night shook Shia out of her thoughts. She grimaced slightly, before glancing over her equipment one last time. First was her guandao, which had been with her during the explosion. She'd covered the blade with some fabric to keep it from cutting her, leaving her free to move about as needed.

It'd taken some effort on her part, but Shia had also managed to gather some clothing better suited to the Northern environment before they'd joined Zhao: a bottom layer of warm, skin-tight clothes, dark boots, thick fingerless gloves, and a white outer robe to better camouflage her in the snowy terrain. Out of consideration for the fact that she'd no doubt freeze solid if she were to simply run about with such meagre provisions, Shia had hastily grabbed a fur-lined hooded coat that seemed to be of Water Tribe creation. It'd help her blend into the city, at the very least.

If this wasn't prepared, then Shia didn't know what was – she'd even snagged a belt from the ship's armoury which had attachable water-proof satchels to hold some food and first aid items. The loop on the side held a bottle of fresh water, though Shia doubted she'd need it. They were surrounded by water, after all.

Lastly, of course, was Shia's beloved cloth mask. She couldn't bear to part with it, and had kept it with the excuse that it would keep her face warm.

Staring down at the dark waves lapping against the side of the boat, Shia reassured herself quietly.

"Everything will be fine."

Then, she leapt into the ocean. As she fell, she gestured with her hands sharply, forcing the water to form a pocket of air to hold her -- she'd travel faster and more discreetly this way, beneath the surface of the ocean. The water surrounding her began to spiral, before propelling her towards the Northern Water Tribe's city.

The residents of the city were busy repairing the glacial wall shielding their city, rushing to complete their duties before the Fire Nation resumed its attacks. There were soldiers patrolling the fringes of the city and surveying the water with hawk-like eyes, so Shia would occasionally have to resurface and hide behind the icebergs peppering the area. She could use her bending to tunnel into the city and then close the hole up: there was no point helping the Fire Nation invade.

Especially since Zhao had gone out of his way to hire people to assassinate them.

As Shia clambered up onto one of the floating chunks of ice, she wondered how Zuko planned to enter the city. Judging from her experiences with him, he'd probably pull some dangerous stunt. 

Feeling nervous when she considered the possibility that the short-tempered teenager had injured himself, Shia began to act with a bit more urgency. She ended up diving back into the depths of the ocean, tunnelling beneath the wall with her bending. When she eventually broke through into one of the many canals navigating the city, Shia was drenched with icy sea water, shivering as she crawled into the dark recesses beneath an ice bridge. A swift flick of her hands siphoned the water from her clothing and into the canal, leaving her feeling less cold, before Shia turned tail to set off for the palace.

Hopefully that was where the Avatar (and, in extension, Zuko) was.

▽

Eventually, Shia's investigation led her to an oasis cradled between two walls of ice. It was nearby to the palace, and the footprints imprinted in the snow all seemed to lead to the location – prompting Shia to follow cautiously. Her intuition had paid off, Shia realised, when she came to find Katara's unconscious body crumpled in the snow. Shia knelt beside Katara and checked her pulse, exhaling softly when she found it. Katara would be fine, if not a little embarrassed by her defeat at Zuko's hands. Shia glanced around at the puddles of water and the scorch mark on the cliffside, rolling her eyes inwardly. Zuko was only making her job easier with his recklessness – he left signs of his presence everywhere, knowingly or not. The location itself was like a speck of paradise in the arctic tundra, a patch or greenery ringing a circular pool containing two koi fish. Shia watched the fish circle one another for a moment, entranced, before her gaze shifted to the cliff above them.

Even ignoring the obvious footprints disrupting the snow in that direction, Shia had a feeling that Zuko had gone in that direction. It was the only way to avoid the Fire Nation with the Avatar still in custody, and it seemed exactly like the kind of stupid decision the prince would make.

Shia sighed inwardly, before she began to make for the cliff.

"Wh... who are you?"

Shia looked back and saw that Katara had regained consciousness, though her slight swaying indicated that she was disoriented.

"I'm Shia," the girl responded softly. "I'm not here to hurt you."

Katara seemed to understand that despite being dazed, and slowly got to her feet, her gaze fixated on Shia. Shia shifted uncomfortably, pursing her lips beneath her mask.

"I should get going now."

"Wait!" Katara called after her, "you... you're from the Fire Nation, right? You're with Zuko?"

Shia nodded, not looking at Katara.

"Like I said, I have no intention of hurting you. I'm just here to protect the prince for his uncle."

Leaving those final words lingering between them, Shia left.

▽

Everything was grey.

Shia hated it. The soot from the Fire Nation's ships had turned the sky a hideous, dull colour, and the ashen snow that fell carpeted the ground like a signal of the battle to come. Distant yelling and booms alerted her to the commencement of the navy's next attack.

They were landing, which meant she had even less time to track down Zuko. In this weather, together with the Avatar, she doubted he'd survive alone.

Luckily, Zuko sucked at not leaving tracks. He seemed to have been dragging the Avatar's unconscious body through the snow, leaving a distinctive trail for Shia to follow. She ended up breaking into a jog so that she could catch up to him before the snow covered his tracks completely.

After a good ten minutes of blindly racing through the snowstorm, Shia came to a place where the ice had fractured and given way. The tracks stopped there, but she doubted Zuko had fallen in. In the distance, Shia's eyes caught onto a pocket of darkness. A cave.

Shia's lips curled into a small smirk as she noticed the glow of firelight within the recesses of the cave.

"So predictable." 

Chapter Text

▽

❝ One of the best lessons you can learn in life is how to remain calm. ❞

Bruce Lee

▽

"I DON'T NEED TO REMIND you that we have a time limit," Iroh said to Zhao, tucking his hands into his sleeves. "If we don't defeat the Water Tribe before the full moon rises, they will be undefeatable."

Zhao remained as confident as ever, surveying the carnage from afar with a smug smile. "I assure you, I have everything under control. I intend to remove the moon as a factor."

▽

Zuko pursed his lips as he wrapped his arms around himself more tightly, attempting to conserve what little heat he had. The heat given off by the small fire he'd started was weak and overwhelmingly little in the face of the bitter cold of the north, leaving him with frozen fingertips and misty breath. Aang was unconscious, still, breathing deeply as his tattoos glowed an eerie white. Zuko cast a suspicious glance over Aang, eyes weary, before returning his gaze to the blizzard outside the cavern.

"... I guess we'll be here a while."

Just as he spoke, a pale silhouette emerged from the depths of the snowstorm.

▽

Appa soared through the blizzard with ease, thick fur protecting him from the unforgiving elements. Atop him were Sokka, Katara and Yue.

"Don't worry," Yue reassured Katara, "Prince Zuko can't be getting too far in this weather."

Katara looked away from the princess, her eyes darkening with anxiety. "I'm not worried they'll get away in this weather... I'm worried they won't."

"What about that Shia girl you mentioned?" Sokka questioned from the front, where he was steering the bison, "from what you said, it sounds like she was going after them..."

"She was," Katara agreed, crossing her arms. "She said she didn't plan to hurt us, and that she was only there to protect the prince for his uncle. Hopefully, she gets to them before the blizzard does."

"Even if she doesn't, they're not going to die in this place," Sokka reassured. "If we know anything, it's that Zuko never gives up. They'll survive, and we'll find them."

▽

Shia reached the entrance of the cave eventually, after struggling up the incline through the deep snow. She squinted her eyes, blinking a few times to get rid of a snowflake that'd landed in them, before taking another step forward. Before she could call out to the prince, however, she was tackled to the ground by a blur of white.

Struggling to ignore the cold seeping into her clothes, Shia glanced up towards her attacked wearily. Zuko stood above her with his fist poised to fire, clearly having mistaken her for an enemy. Shia had to yell to be heard over the wailing of the storm.

"Calm down, Prince Zuko! It's just me!"

Zuko squinted down at her, before slowly letting his fist fall and stepping away from her. Shia got up slowly, dusting the snow off of her clothes, before looking over to the prince curiously.

"So... you've captured the Avatar?"

"Yes," Zuko responded tersely, turning away from her to re-enter the cave. Shia had a feeling he was frowning. She noticed the small fire he'd lit and the unconscious Avatar bound up against the opposite wall as she followed him into the cavern, brushing her hood back. Zuko turned back to face her, crossing his arms as his voice took on an accusatory edge. "Why are you here?"

Shia stared at him for a moment, a calculating glint in her eyes, before she answered slowly. "I'm not here under Iroh's orders, if that's what you're thinking."

Zuko's gaze took on a suspicious glint. "Then why?"

"You'll need help, and Iroh can't come here himself – I decided to come in his stead."

It wasn't really Shia's decision to make, but she'd made it anyway. Every other option was terribly boring, anyway. Before Zuko could ask any more questions, the glow encompassing the Avatar receded, and Aang regained consciousness. Zuko's attention shifted to the young boy instantly, and his gaze grew chilly.

"Welcome back."

Aang glared at Zuko, and seethed through gritted teeth, "good to be back."

Then, Aang breathed in deeply and unleashed from his mouth a blast of air which sent both Shia and Zuko slamming into the wall. Before they could react, Aang had already barrelled out of the cave. Shia reached for her guandao hastily and undid the bindings, stuffing them into her pocket, before running after Zuko.

When Shia reached the entrance to the cave, Aang was already squirming in Zuko's grasp, held aloft by the collar of his shirt.

"That won't be enough to escape," Zuko hissed. Shia looked up when a shadow passed over them and saw that the rest of Aang's friends had arrived atop their bison.

"Appa!" Aang beamed, despite being unable to touch the ground. As soon as Appa had touched down, Katara leapt from the saddle, her arms raised. Zuko tossed Aang aside with ease, raising his arms.

"Here for a rematch?"

"Trust me, Zuko," Katara began lowly, "it's not going to be much of a match."

Zuko launched a fireball at her, but Katara used the snow to douse it before sending a wave of snow that lifted him and then slammed the prince into the ground. Shia was luckily just out of range, though she couldn't interfere without giving away her abilities – she was supposed to be a non-bender, after all. Besides, she knew that Katara wouldn't injure Zuko fatally. She wasn't a killer.

Besides, Sokka had already unbound Aang whilst Zuko and Katara were fighting. Shia couldn't reach them without wading through the middle of the battle, which would either get her burnt or drowned.

"The spirits are in trouble!" Aang announced, leaping onto Appa. His gaze shifted to Shia as he did so, watching as the girl placed herself between Zuko and the group protectively. She lifted the prince gingerly, pulling his arm over her shoulder to better support the unconscious boy.

"... we can't leave them."

Shia frowned at the Avatar's words, glancing over her shoulder at the group sharply.

"I can take care of the prince."

"No," Katara insisted. "Join us."

Shia was tempted to refuse again, but even she could notice the coldness of Zuko's skin. He'd end up with hypothermia if they stayed out in the blizzard longer than necessary... and it wasn't like she could carry him back to the ship. She could barely stand with him – trekking through the wilderness blindly in the cold was a death wish. Pursing her lips, Shia glanced back up at Aang suspiciously.

"... Alright." Shia sighed, scooping the drenched prince up with a bit of effort. She was lucky that he wasn't wearing his usual armour – if he had, she'd probably have dropped him ages ago. With a small leap, Shia was able to drop her burden on the saddle – settling Zuko down before awkwardly sitting beside him. As soon as everyone was seated, Appa took off. Shia ignored the lurching and the rapidly disappearing ground in favour of turning her attention on Katara.

"Thank you," Shia began awkwardly. She didn't know what else to say, so she lapsed into awkward silence after that – at least, not until Sokka spoke up.

"Are you really a fire bender?" he asked, looking at her curiously, "you seem really... I don't know... chill?"

Shia spoke distractedly, removing her coat as she did so. "I'm not a fire bender."

"You're a non-bender like me," Sokka asked, though his words sounded more like a statement.

Shia didn't respond, but Sokka seemed to take her silence as an affirmation. As it was silent once more, Shia was able to turn her attention to Zuko, arranging her coat over him worriedly. He hadn't been wearing warm enough clothing to cope with the frigid temperatures of the north – combined with the water Katara had doused him with, he was bound to get sick.

"Why are you protecting him?" Katara asked abruptly, moving closer to Shia, who shot a confused glance at her. "I mean... he's sort of a jerk, isn't he?"

Shia hesitated before answering.

"I understand your perspective, but Prince Zuko is my mentor's nephew," Shia bowed her head to them as a sign of regret. "... I know that he's given you no reasons to understand him, especially with his attitude, but... he has his motives. To the prince, capturing the Avatar is the right thing to do. Even so, I'm sorry that he's troubled you."

Aang seemed to ponder her words, but before they could converse further the moon turned blood red. Shia felt a wave of light-headedness overcome her, as the world shifted and warped around her like an illusion.

Everything was red.

Yue grabbed at her head and whimpered. Sokka placed his hands on her shoulders, a worried look in his eyes.

"Are you okay?"

"I feel faint..." Yue confessed.

"I feel it, too," Aang told them. "The moon spirit is in trouble."

▽

"I am a legend, now!" Zhao cackled triumphantly, holding above his head a bag containing the spirit of the moon. The koi within flopped about helplessly as its counterpart swam about in the pond frantically. "The Fire Nation will, for generations, tell stories about the great Zhao who darkened the moon! They will call me Zhao, the Conqueror! Zhao, the Moon Slayer! Zhao... the Invincible!"

"I'm gonna have to cut you off right there," Shia interrupted.

Zhao froze and looked up just as Momo tackled his face. Shia was grinning beneath her mask, breaking her usual professional façade. It wouldn't be a lie to say that she loved every second of that.

"Ah! Get it off!" Zhao flailed about as the soldiers tried to help him. He was a mess of limbs and lemur until Momo leapt up and soared back to Aang. As soon as the threat removed itself from him, the admiral looked over to the other side of the pond and glared at the Avatar and his friends (plus Shia). The soldiers behind him raised their fists, prompting them to do the same.

"Don't bother," Zhao scoffed, raising his fist towards the bag threateningly.

"Zhao!" Aang exclaimed, dropping his staff. He raised his hands slowly to show he wasn't carrying a weapon. "Don't."

"It's my destiny," Zhao began. "To destroy the moon... and the Water Tribe."

Aang tried to reason with him, but Shia doubted it would work. Zhao was a jerk. "Destroying the moon won't hurt just the Water Tribe. It will hurt everyone... including you. Without the moon, everything would fall out of balance... you have no idea what kind of chaos that would unleash upon the world...!"

"He's right, Zhao!"

Shia's face lit up at the familiar voice, and she looked to the right to see that Iroh had joined them.

Zhao raised an eyebrow. "General Iroh... why am I not surprised to discover your treachery?"

"I'm no traitor, Zhao!" Iroh brushed the hood of his cloak back, "the Fire Nation needs the moon too! We all depend on the balance! Whatever you do to that spirit, I'll unleash on you tenfold!"

Shia stared at her mentor, admiration sparkling in her eyes, as the former general shifted into a stance.

"Let it go, now!"

Zhao's face relaxed to a neutral expression, and he knelt to place the mouth of the bag by the water. The atmosphere returned to serene blue as the white-scaled koi slipped back into the pond to dance around its companion.

'Something's wrong.'

And she was right. Zhao's face twisted into a sneer and he roared, lashing his fist at the water. Flames poured over the water, writhing like fiery serpents, coating the surface of the entire pond in white-hot fire.

Then, the world went dark.

The moon was gone.

Shia slid her hand down the shaft of her guandao and prepared to fight, just as Iroh launched a fireball at Zhao. She ended up unable to join in because Iroh single-handedly took down all the soldiers... but in all the chaos, Zhao slipped away.

Hesitantly, Shia approached the pond and dropped to her knees, scooping the injured koi out of the water. The burn on its side had been fatal. Iroh and the rest of the group gathered around her to look at the dying spirit with sorrowful expressions.

"There's no hope now..." Yue whispered, voice breaking. "... It's over."

"No."

Shia looked to Aang, who was beside her, his tattoos glowing along with his eyes. His voice had a dual-like quality to it. Was he channelling his past lives?

"It's not over."

Aang waded into the pond and stood at the centre with the spirit of the ocean, the black koi, circling him. Wind stirred the surface of the water and whipped their clothes and hair about. The water itself was glowing a brilliant white.

Then, Aang was pulled beneath the surface.

Shia felt the hair on her arms and the back of her neck rise. The water encircling the oasis began to glow a vibrant cerulean, and the light continued to spread into the icy city below them. The water swelled upwards, higher than the bridges that linked the land to the oasis, and continued to rise until they formed a distinct shape.

A koi. Aang levitated in the centre of the massive being, and the two stormed off to subjugate the masses of Fire Nation soldiers overrunning the city.

Shia sighed and looked to Appa, wondering how Zuko had remained unconscious throughout everything, before her eyes went wide.

The prince was gone. 

Chapter Text

▽

❝ I finally figured out that not every crisis can be managed. As much as we want to keep ourselves safe, we can't protect ourselves from everything. If we want to embrace life, we also have to embrace chaos. ❞

Susan Elizabeth Phillips

▽

ZHAO RACED THROUGH THE CITY, his heart pounding, eyes wild with terror.

The Avatar was coming for him.

He needed to get away, because the only punishment awaiting him was the permanence of death – a death he was not willing to face. All of a sudden, a ball of fire flew past him and shattered one of the ice sculptures atop the walls.

Looking back, Zhao saw someone who was supposed to be dead.

"You're alive?" he whispered, face turning white with shock. Standing there was a teenager with bruises and cuts littering his face, clad in white clothing designed for stealth, dark shadows cast over his face.

Zuko's golden glare only deepened at Zhao's words. They were all he needed to launch forward, fist aflame.

"You tried to have me killed!"

Zhao leapt out of the away, pulling back into an unsteady stance hurriedly. Now they both balanced precariously atop the icy wall. Below, the furious Ocean spirit bled out into the sea, wreaking havoc amongst the Fire Nation warships.

"Yes, I did," Zhao began, the tremble in his voice quickly fading away, "you're the Blue Spirit, an enemy of the Fire Nation! You freed the Avatar!"

"I had no choice!" Zuko hissed back.

Fire bloomed from Zuko's fists and enveloped Zhao, though the lashing tendrils of flame were parted by the older man with ease. Zhao removed his smoking cloak resignedly, having resolved that he wouldn't be letting the boy leave alive.

"You should have chosen to accept your failure, your disgrace... at least then you could have lived!"

▽

Iroh gently took the Moon spirit's corpse from Shia's hands, and laid it gingerly in the water to see if it would respond. Despite the cool liquid lapping at its scales, the koi remained unmoving, still and limp as the war in the distance carried on.

"It's too late," Katara whispered, her eyes tearing up as she stared at the spirit regretfully. "It's dead."

They were all silent for a time, and Shia felt a small twinge of grief. What did this mean for the future? The moon... it was something she'd grown so used to seeing. To no longer take reassurance from its presence... to no longer be able to bend... would that mean her only connection to her father was now gone?

Iroh bowed his head. They all did – but then, the elderly man raised his eyes, which were wide with shock and awe as he looked at Yue. Shia looked at the younger girl curiously, wondering what it was that her mentor had realised.

"You have been touched by the Moon spirit," Iroh said softly, "some of its life is within you."

Yue opened her eyes, and Shia noticed that their startling hue was the only thing that possessed some vibrancy within the monochromatic landscape. A deep blue, like the ocean at night – the only blue Shia could see right now, due to the crimson that blanketed the world around her. Was this how the world looked, without the moon? Desolate?

"Yes," Yue replied quietly, "you're right. It gave me life... so maybe I can give it back."

Getting up, she moved to stand in front of Iroh; no, not in front of Iroh, but the koi that lay in his hands.

"No!" Sokka protested, grabbing her hand hastily, "you don't have to do that!"

"It's my duty, Sokka."

"I won't let you!" Sokka retorted, his dark brows furrowing, "your father told me to protect you!" 

Yue closed her eyes. When she opened them, her gaze was resolute, and her voice steady. "I have to do this."

As the princess pulled herself away from Sokka and pressed her hands against the koi's wound, Shia felt her heart ache. Yue was sacrificing herself to save the Moon – to save the everyone except herself.

A glow radiated from the place where Yue and the Spirit touched, enveloping them, before fading away in an instant. Yue collapsed into Sokka's arms.

"No!" Sokka cried, falling to the ground along with her. He pressed his hand against her neck desperately, and a small part of Shia hoped he found a pulse. How could she want someone so selfless to be anything but alive?

"She... she's gone.... Yue's gone."

Sokka embraced Yue for a moment, but her body faded away in his arms. The koi in Iroh's hands began to shimmer once more, the scales beginning to shimmer as a soft glow enveloped them all. Iroh hastened to place the spirit in the pond. Immediately, the white koi began to swim, and the light swelled to illuminate the entire pond. Sokka still looked anguished, but the light rose up, and formed into Yue. She was wearing a delicate white gown that floated about her as she leant down to meet with her former lover.

"Goodbye, Sokka." Shia looked away when she saw them lean closer to one another to exchange one last kiss, finding the moment to be too intimate for her eyes. "I will always be with you."

Yue disappeared once more – but this time, it was permanent. Colour returned to the world once more, and the light-headedness that had plagued Shia disappeared. Far above her, Shia saw the moon, as brilliant and awe-inspiring as it always had been. She couldn't help staring at it, finding that the sight of the silvery orb now held a new meaning for her and the others present. It was a symbol of the sacrifice made by Princess Yue of the Northern Water Tribe, for not just her own people, but every living being on the planet.

Despite not having known Yue at all, Shia felt grief. She couldn't even begin to fathom how Sokka must have felt. If he was mourning, he surely didn't want to be in the presence of a stranger.

Shia looked to Iroh, and whispered, "the prince is missing. I'm going to go look for him."

Iroh merely nodded in approval, but made no motion to follow her. She guessed that he'd follow at his own pace, and so she turned to Katara, who was standing to the side to allow her brother to mourn Yue's death.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Katara," Shia told the younger girl softly. "Farewell for now."

Katara stared after the retreating back of the enigmatic teen, dazed, before calling after her.

"It was nice to meet you, too...?"

▽

Shia found Zuko standing alone on a bridge, staring listlessly into the water below. She stopped a little way away from him on purpose out of caution, uncertain as to how he'd react if she interrupted his thoughts when he seemed so distant from reality.

"Prince Zuko?" Shia asked hesitantly, taking a step closer when she saw he was still deep in thought. She'd never seen this expression on the prince's face before – it was almost as though he felt... guilty?

"Zhao... he..." Zuko seemed shaken, something Shia found odd. He'd never been like this in the past. "I tried to help him..."

Something told Shia that Zuko was in need of reassurance, so she made her way over to him and rested her hands on the rail.

"The Ocean spirit took him?" Shia asked. She imagined it would have, considering he'd killed its counterpart, the Moon spirit.

"... how did you know?"

"He killed the Moon spirit," Shia said, watching his reaction out of the corner of her eye. "The princess was able to sacrifice herself and bring it back, but the Avatar and the Ocean spirit left before that happened. They wanted revenge, so... don't blame yourself. "

"Hm." Zuko shifted beside her. She noticed he had her coat on still. It had been large on her, originally being tailored to a male, so it fit him well. "But... when I held my hand out for him, he didn't take it. And then it drowned him..."

"Prince Zuko," Shia hesitated, unsure of whether it was in her place or not to speak. "You can't blame yourself for that. Zhao chose his fate."

Zuko frowned, and she knew that he would take a while to process the information. He'd fare better if he were with Iroh. Speaking of, where was he?

"We should go find Iroh."

The prince stared at the water below them a bit longer, before finally tearing his gaze away to fixate her with an unusually weary look. Shia realised that she actually preferred this vulnerable side of him to the constantly angry one, but, at the same time... she hoped he'd get back to himself soon. For his sake, and for Iroh's.

"Alright."

▽

Shia sat down on the edge of the raft, her hand skimming icy water. She, Iroh and Zuko (still acting unusually quiet) were using a raft to leave the Northern Water Tribe. The Fire Nation's remaining ships had all been destroyed or driven away by the combined might of the Avatar and the Ocean spirit.

"I'm surprised, Prince Zuko," Iroh began as he adjusted their makeshift sail, "surprised that you are not at this moment trying to capture the Avatar."

"I'm tired," Zuko rasped hoarsely. He was sitting cross-legged, watching the city fade away as their raft took them further away.

Iroh placed his hand on his nephew's shoulder tenderly. "Then you should rest. A man needs his rest."

Zuko did look pretty awful. His face was littered with cuts and bruises from the explosion they'd only barely escaped from, and combined with the emotional exhaustion in his eyes it made for a downtrodden teenager who seemed worlds apart from his usual arrogant self.

Shia felt worried for him, and for once it wasn't just out of consideration for her mentor's familial relation to him. She genuinely felt worried.

Zuko laid down on the deck and closed his eyes, leaving Shia and Iroh to exchange looks.

"So..." Iroh looked down at his pupil, "... do you still have your flute?"

Shia actually did. She'd had it with her since it was music night before the explosion, and it had remained with her when she went after Zuko.

"I do, indeed."

Chapter Text

▽

❝ A friend is one that knows you as you are, understands where you have been, accepts what you have become, and still, gently allows you to grow. ❞

William Shakespeare

▽

AFTER THREE WEEKS AT SEA with Iroh (who kept pestering her to play the flute) and Zuko (who gradually regained his usual attitude), land was a welcome relief. Even more wonderful was the fact that they'd landed at a resort, where they were welcomed by the staff and pampered like royalty. Shia had received a set of comfortable clothes, and had even been able to visit a hot spring by herself to enjoy a long bath. Currently, she sat leant back against a peach tree, admiring the pale blossoms and the brilliant blue sky.

Overall, things were going well.

Just a few metres away, Zuko was sitting against the entrance to one of the many courtyards, brooding as usual. Iroh was indulging in a massage in the courtyard.

Shia hadn't wanted to be around for that. She only looked up from the peach blossom she'd caught when she noticed that he was moving about.

Iroh had risen to his feet, and moved to sit beside Zuko, who was wearing a cone hat which covered his face. He'd been wearing that since they'd arrived, actually – Shia imagined it was to keep his scar concealed.

Shia, on the other hand, wore a veil over the lower half of her face. It was far less suspicious than her old mask, and it kept anyone from questioning the prominent scar marring her jaw.

"I see..." Shia heard Iroh say, "... it's the anniversary, isn't it?"

"Three years ago, today, I was banished. I lost it all..." Zuko looked up, eyes burning gold, voice harsh. "I want it back! I want the Avatar, I want my honour, my throne... I want my father not to think I'm worthless."

"I'm sure he doesn't," Iroh reassured brightly. As much as she idolised him, Shia had a feeling her beloved mentor was about to say something not so smart. "Why would he banish you if he didn't care?"

'Oh, Iroh.'

Zuko looked up at his uncle sharply, obviously unimpressed, before getting up and storming away. His steps faltered when he noticed Shia, who was twirling the peach blossom between her fingers as she pondered what she'd seen. Much to the girl's surprise, Zuko plopped down on the other side of the tree she was leant against.

"What do you think?" Zuko questioned harshly. Shia blinked once, then twice. Was he asking her for her opinion?

"What are you asking about?"

"About my father," Zuko said impatiently. She could sense his usual temperament rearing its ugly head. It was good to know that things were going back to normal (well, as normal as normal got, anyway). "And my honour."

"I... don't know enough to make a comment." Shia tilted her head back to watch the branches swaying above them. She grew more hesitant when she was met with expectant silence. "You're a good person, Prince Zuko."

'And your father doesn't determine that, or your worth,' Shia would have added, though she had a feeling Zuko wouldn't take that too well. He was quiet for a time. Then Shia heard him getting up and is footsteps fading away, leaving the girl to sigh inwardly. Her own thoughts began overtake her.

What were they going to do next? The Fire Nation saw them as criminals... they had no resources to use in capturing the Avatar. Shia herself felt no ill intent towards them. Katara was kind despite Shia's affiliations, and Aang was gracious even to those he defeated. Sokka seemed good, too, if not a little snarky. They were doing what they felt was right.

But so were Zuko and Iroh.

Shia, though? She was somewhere in the middle, leaning towards Aang. She truly did want for Iroh's nephew to be reinstated as a prince... but would Zuko be welcomed back if they did bring the Avatar? The Fire Lord, from Iroh's description, was remorseless.

Shia knew she couldn't continue to fall into the ambiguous grey-zone forever. At some point she would have to pick a side, and it wasn't guaranteed that she'd be accepted for it.

That scared her.

What role did she play in all this madness?

▽

"Look at these magnificent shells!" Shia heard Iroh exclaim as she stepped into the room, "I'll enjoy these keepsakes for years to come."

Zuko stormed in after her, that familiar glower affixed firmly to his face. "We don't need any more useless things! You forget that we need to carry everything ourselves, now."

Iroh looked at Shia as if expecting her to somehow convince the prince that seashells were useful.

"Sorry, Iroh," Shia smiled at her mentor gently. "I don't think we can really use those shells for anything, so it'd be best to leave them—"

"Hello, brother. Uncle."

Shia nearly leapt out of her skin at the appearance of a second party. How had she not noticed earlier? Sitting in a chair in the corner of the room was an unfamiliar face. A dark-haired girl with golden eyes. Shia noticed the atmosphere turn tense immediately. She was so shaken that she failed to register the latter portion of the girl's greeting.

"What are you doing here?" Zuko growled, taking an aggressive step forward. Shia looked between the two. Was there bad blood between them?

"In my country we exchange a pleasant hello before asking questions," the girl picked up a shell from the table beside her. Shia noted that she was wearing clothing from the Fire Nation. Standing, the girl strode forward until she was in front of Zuko, whose hands were clenched into tight fists. "Have you become uncivilised so soon, Zuzu?"

Shia's eyes went wide at the nickname. If she'd been drinking water, she'd have spat it all out at that point.

"Don't call me that!" Zuko hissed. Shia sensed his inner cat was becoming more and more prominent each day. The angry lashing out, the brooding, the 'I-don't-need-help' attitude... truly, the Fire Prince was actually a feline.

"To what do we owe this honour?" Iroh inquired politely. Shia, however, noticed the glint of distrust in her mentor's eyes. Who was this girl, and why were Zuko and Iroh so worked up about her?

"Hm... must be a family trait," the girl shattered the shell in her grasp. Shia noticed her nails had been sharpened to a fine point. Beside her, Iroh looked personally offended that the girl had destroyed his shell.

"I've come with a message from home," the girl explained, playing with a strand of her fringe. "Father's changed his mind. Family is suddenly very important to him... he's heard rumours of plans to overthrow him, treacherous plots... family are the only ones you can really trust."

This meant that the girl was... Princess Azula? Zuko's sister? How did he survive growing up in the same household as this girl? She was so...

Shia had no words to describe the inherent dislike she felt towards Princess Azula. It was like Zhao all over again, only worse. Sadly, it seemed that Zuko was actually listening to Azula and considering her words thoroughly – Shia, on the other hand, was on edge. There was something very off about this.

Azula looked away, out the window to the rolling gardens that surrounded the small hut. "Father regrets your banishment. He wants you home."

Zuko didn't respond, and neither did Iroh. The prince moved to stand by the window between them, gazing out with his hands on the windowsill – a faraway look in his eyes.

"Did you hear me? You should be happy. Excited. Grateful. I just gave you great news," Azula insisted. Shia frowned.

Iroh stepped forward to reply, saying gently, "I'm sure your brother simply needs a moment—"

"Don't interrupt, Uncle!"

Shia inwardly confirmed that she did indeed possess a very strong dislike towards Princess Azula. Zuko was infinitely more likeable than his callous sister, somehow, despite his tendency to be a bit snappy.

Azula turned and stood beside Zuko, looking towards her older brother as she said in a softer tone, "I still haven't heard my thank you. I'm not a messenger. I didn't have to come all this way."

Zuko closed his eyes. Shia was standing to his left, on his scarred side – and she could see just how close he was to the brink of tears. It unnerved her. He truly cared so much for his father's love?

"Father regrets...?" The prince's voice was unusually low, wavering slightly. "He... wants me back?"

Azula rolled her eyes discreetly, only enforcing Shia's dislike of her.

"I can see you need time to take this in. I'll come to call on you tomorrow," turning away, Azula left her final words lingering in the air behind her. "Good evening."

▽

"We're going home," Zuko said, practically emitting rays of sunshine as he walked about the room to gather their possessions, "after three long years! It's unbelievable..."

Shia rested her head atop her arms, seated on the floor beside the table. She'd been watching Zuko running about for a while, now; he hadn't settled down after Azula's departure. The crickets had begun chirping hours ago.

"It is unbelievable," Iroh brought a hand to his chin. "I have never known my brother to regret anything."

"Did you listen to Azula?" Zuko exclaimed, his tone taking on a defensive edge, "Father's realised how important family is to him. He cares about me!"

From the way he was speaking, Shia realised that this wasn't about the Fire Lord's change of heart. It was about Zuko's need to be accepted by his father... something which she could somewhat understand. She'd been like that, too, not so long ago...

"I care about you!" Iroh retorted hotly. He seemed to have become upset with his nephew, for the first time in a while – but Shia knew that it was only out of his love for the boy. He didn't want Zuko to be hurt again. Shia wished the prince could see that his real family had been at his side the entire time. "And if Ozai wants you back... well, I think it may not be for the reasons you imagine."

"You don't know how my father feels about me!" Zuko snarled, turning away from his uncle. "You don't know anything!"

Shia felt compelled to intervene. She wasn't supposed to, since the two were not only family but also royalty... that's why she'd always stayed out of their small arguments. She was an outsider.

"Zuko..." Iroh's voice softened considerably, "I only meant that, in our family, things are not always what they seem..."

"I think you're exactly what you seem!" Zuko whirled around furiously, venom on his tongue, "a lazy, mistrustful, shallow old man who's always been jealous of his brother!"

Shia bit her lip nervously and got to her feet to put herself between the two shakily. She didn't want them to fight. It hurt to see her mentor being degraded, and it hurt to see just how blind – just how ungrateful – Zuko was when it came to Iroh. How could he slander his uncle, the man who'd stood by his side in spite of everything, in such a way?

Shia couldn't outright get angry at him due to his status, but she could at the very least try to defend Iroh.

"Prince Zuko... please, your uncle only wants to protect you—"

"Stay out of this!" Zuko hissed. "This is between family! You wouldn't understand!"

Shia felt hurt by his words, though they were true. She couldn't help but recoil emotionally. Before she'd even realised it, a chill had settled over her expression, her eyes gaining a frosty glint that neither Zuko nor Iroh had seen before.

"If even someone with no family could see how much your Uncle loves you, but you can't, you must be blind, Prince Zuko."

Shia spun on her heel, and disappeared into the night.

▽

The sun rose up over the pristine waters of the resort, light shimmering and dancing on the waves as seabirds rode the breeze to the nearby cliffs. Zig-zagging down the rugged cliffs was a stone staircase, carved deep into the cliffside to prevent those descending from nearing the edge too much. Currently clambering down this staircase was none other than Zuko, who had donned a new change of clothes with a bag of his belongings slung over a shoulder. Far below him, Azula's ship crouched in the shadow of the cliffside.

For a moment, the prince paused, gaze roving over the serene expanse of ocean ahead of him. Zuko's eyes concealed doubt – doubt of himself and the decision he'd made so rashly. The previous night he'd not only snapped at his uncle, but also Shia, who disappeared shortly afterwards. Because of that, neither of them were at his side today, as they had been when he first started his search for the Avatar.

Today he would have to run the final leg of the journey by himself. Back home, to his father... without his supportive uncle, or his enigmatic apprentice.

Breathing the sun-drenched salt air into his tired lungs, Zuko prepared to continue his descent into the belly of the beast.

"Wait!"

Zuko's heart stilled for a split second. Was it really them?

When the teenager paused and glanced backwards, he spotted Iroh hurriedly clambering down the stairs. "Don't leave without me!"

Zuko couldn't help lighting up, not even noticing how happy he was that he wasn't as alone as he'd thought. "Uncle... you've changed your mind!"

Iroh stopped in front of him, taking a short moment to catch his breath before finally straightening up and placing a comforting hand on Zuko's shoulder. "Family sticks together, right?"

Zuko was visibly pleased by Iroh's words, eyes softening briefly before he stilled and glanced around curiously.

"Where's Shia?"

Iroh's face fell, and he slowly withdrew from Zuko before speaking – his eyes fixated on his nephew, as if gauging his reaction.

"She... won't be returning with us."

"What?" Zuko raised a brow disbelievingly, a frown quickly appearing on his expression. How could that be true? Shia was practically Iroh's shadow – so why would she not want to go with them? Didn't she want to see her family? "Why not?"

"She'll be happier away from the Fire Nation," Iroh responded softly, expression momentarily growing tired and weary. Zuko questioned this briefly, contemplating what his uncle meant by that – but before he knew it, thoughts of his own family began to flood his mind. He scoffed, and silenced the curiosity in his mind. He didn't need to worry about some random girl; no, Zuko had far greater concerns pressing on his mind.

"We're finally going home."

▽

Shia watched Iroh and Zuko departing apathetically, though her mind was being torn apart on the inside. Had she made the right decision? Leaving Iroh? Abandoning her old home, the Fire Nation, in favour of an uncertain future? What would she do in the Earth Kingdom, anyway? Could she journey back to the Water Tribe and rediscover her ancestry? Join the Avatar, even?

The thought seemed enthralling, but Shia dismissed it after entertaining the concept for a brief while. Why would they want her, a former soldier of the Fire Nation, in their team?

Who would want her?

That was why Shia was so adamant about not returning to the Fire Nation. If she returned, her apprenticeship with Iroh would end, and she'd be forced to return back to her so-called home – back to the place she detested the most. Shia would tolerate many things, but being caged once more and treated like a commodity was not one of them.

That was all she had been to her maternal family.

A bargaining chip.

Even her precious mother had admitted it shamelessly; admitted that they'd originally intended to kill her to conceal their crimes. To conceal the fact that she was the offspring of a noble fire bender and that which the Fire Nation despised; a waterbender.

Shia refused to be the price they'd pay for their mistake. No, she would not become a scapegoat – not after she'd deluded herself into trying to appease them for so long.

She'd rather die.

▽

Whilst Shia was lost in her thoughts, Zuko and Iroh were climbing the ramp to Azula's ship. They'd been greeted onboard by the Fire Princess herself, along with a squadron of her soldiers, who currently flanked them on either side of the metal ramp.

"Are we ready to depart, your highness?" a middle-aged man inquired, standing at attention beside Azula.

"Set our course for home, Captain," Azula responded sweetly. Too sweet.

Zuko echoed her words wistfully, his gaze distant as he reminisced. "Home..."

"You heard the princess!" the Captain made his way up the ramp and began to yell orders to the soldiers, as Zuko and Iroh trailed after him. "Raise the anchors! We're taking the prisoners home!"

'Prisoners?'

Zuko felt cold sweat drip down his face as he realised what the Captains words indicated. Azula wasn't simply returning him to his home – she was capturing him. He was going to return to the Fire Nation... not as a prince, but as a prisoner.

His father hadn't wanted him back after all. It'd all been a lie.

For a moment, Zuko was shaken.

And then his vision was dyed red with rage.

"You lied to me!"

Zuko lunged at Azula, only to be blocked by the soldiers who'd previously been motionless.

The princess turned her back on him coldly, muttering, "like I've never done that before."

The guards blocking Zuko's past lurched forward, launching spiralling balls of flame at the banished prince, who dispelled them with ease. Iroh was already tossing soldiers over the railing with powerful attacks of his own – leaving Zuko to confront his cunning younger sister alone.

Azula laughed hysterically, gleeful about the prospect of a battle, before she launched a stream of blue flames towards Zuko. He counterattacked with his own fire, flickering orange and crimson, but by the time the flames ceased he saw that she'd used it as a distraction to form an even more powerful attack.

Lightning.

Zuko was filled with fear, but a small part of him writhed with jealousy. If he could control blue fire and lightning like Azula, would he still be in the Fire Nation? Would his father still love him if he'd been strong?

Would his mother have stayed?

Arcs of white energy hissed and writhed between Azula's fingertips, practically alive, as she prepared to fire a killing blow. Zuko had been too slow to react. There was no chance of escape now.

Then, his feet left the ground.

Had the blast launched him into the air?

No, Zuko realised – it wasn't just him. The entire boat was rocking side-to-side violently, and the ocean surrounding them suddenly grew ferocious as waves pummelled the hull. It wasn't just Zuko affected, either; Azula was slipping across the deck, unable to gain traction on the metallic floor. Before either of them realised, the Fire Princess had been washed overboard by another wave.

Zuko was drenched from head to toe, but he was somehow still on the ship (albeit flat on his back). The ocean was calm once more, and the birds soaring overhead seemed untouched by the abrupt storm – if he didn't know any better, Zuko would have thought it truly was just that.

There was no way that storm was natural.

But the only people who could cause such a phenomenon were either water benders or the Avatar and his posse – neither group would ever want to help him. Maybe it was a passing sea serpent.

"Need help getting up, Prince Zuko?"

Zuko glanced to his side at the voice, initially alert, only for his guarded expression to slowly fall back to his usual scowl when he realised it was none other than the person who was supposedly planning on staying behind.

"I thought you weren't coming?"

"I wasn't," Shia responded bluntly, dark robes fluttering in the sea breeze. "I noticed that Iroh was in trouble."

Zuko noted that she only mentioned Iroh, and not him. Great. Another person who didn't like him. He was really great at amassing haters.

"We should hurry. Take my hand."

Shia held her gloved hand out to him, and though he couldn't see her mouth, Zuko could tell from her crinkled eyes that she was smiling. He considered slapping her hand away – but on second thought, it was probably best to avoid worsening their relationship. He had the faintest suspicion that they would be acquainted with one another for a long, long time.

Reluctantly, Zuko grabbed hold of her hand, and got to his feet.

"Come on, the both of you!" Zuko heard Iroh call from the shore, "we should hurry! They'll be climbing out of the ocean soon!"

Zuko nodded to himself. "Let's go."

Chapter Text

▽

❝ Holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. ❞

Buddha

▽

A FEW DAYS ALONE IN THE WILDERNESS WITH ZUKO AND IROH were enough to drive anyone mad, and Shia was no exception. Despite her usual mild temperament, the girl found herself growing more and more desperate to get away from her companions for longer and longer sessions of foraging in the woods. It wasn't as though she cared for them any less; it was just that the two were so terrible at looking after themselves that she was constantly worrying over their survival. As strong as the two royals were, they were completely helpless in this situation.

At least the weather in the Earth Kingdom was nice. Above her, through the canopy, the sky was clear and blue; perfect weather for an impromptu camping trip. Shia thanked her reading habits inwardly once more as she picked a few ripe-looking berries from a bush, inspecting them for worms before wrapping them in a cloth and placing them in her bag.

Though she wasn't too familiar with the plants growing in the Earth Kingdom, Shia knew enough from her reading that she could recognise edible plants. They were similar to the plants she'd grown in her garden back in the Fire Nation.

After escaping from Azula, Iroh had continued being his usual self, goofy and fun-loving; but Shia recognised the emotions lurking deep beneath his composed exterior. He was worried – not about their living situation, but about Zuko. Shia understood, to an extent – Zuko was prideful and hot-headed, and he wasn't coping so well with being homeless. He was a prince, after all; even if he wasn't subject to his father's love, he'd always had everything money and status could buy.

It was another ten minutes before Shia was finally satisfied with what she'd gathered. When she returned to the clearing they were resting at temporarily, Iroh was crouched beside something, and Zuko was nowhere in sight. Shia thought of speaking to Iroh, but decided against it and instead began to set up a campfire. By the time she'd constructed a decent structure, Zuko came stumbling into the clearing. As he parted the undergrowth, he tripped over an unseen tree root, landing flat on his face. Shia's face reddened as she forced a laugh down, watching amusedly as Zuko staggered to his feet and dusted the leaves out of his hair (he's started growing it out, which was a weird experience for Shia, who'd grown used to his shaved ponytail look).

"I didn't find anything to eat!" Zuko began gesturing wildly with his arms as he continued, "I can't live like this! I wasn't meant to be a fugitive! This is impossible!"

Shia rolled her eyes discreetly and began to add more dried grass to act as kindling for the campfire.

"Prince Zuko," she began, "would you mind lighting the campfire?"

Zuko was silent for a moment before scoffing and striding over to her side.

"I'm a prince, not a matchstick," Zuko muttered snidely. Despite what he said, though, he crouched beside her and summoned a burst of flame to ignite the kindling.

Shia thanked him, before suggesting, "if you'd like, Prince Zuko, I can show you how to fish."

Zuko stilled, before scoffing again and turning away. Shia watched him head back to the edge of the clearing, before turning her attention back to the flames; assuming that he was rejecting her offer.

"Well?" Zuko questioned loudly, "are you coming or what?!"

▽

By the time they got back to the clearing, the sky was darkening. Shia had caught a modest selection of fish, whilst Zuko had speared a tiny minnow on the longest branch he could find. Shia had laughed when she'd seen it, much to the prince's irritation.

"Zuko, do you remember the plant I told you about?" Iroh asked from beside the campfire, his back turned to them, "the one that may have been tea?"

"You didn't," Zuko paled.

"I did..." Iroh turned around, and Shia nearly got hit in the face by Zuko's fish-on-a-branch. "...and it wasn't."

Shia stepped around Zuko, unable to see Iroh clearly from behind the taller boy, and saw that her mentor's skin was covered in angry-looking rashes.

"When the rash spreads to my throat, I will stop breathing. But look what I found!" Iroh held up a branch he had been using to scratch his back, revealing that it was tipped with bunches of pinkish berries. "These are bacui berries! Known to cure the poison of the White Jade plant!"

Shia shoved the fish she'd caught into Zuko's arms, leaving the prince to stare after her curiously as she stepped forward and crushed one of the berries between her fingertips. She brought the juice to her nose and sniffed suspiciously, before abruptly slapping the branch out of Iroh's hand.

"Those are maka'ole berries," she told her mentor tersely, arms crossed sternly. "They cause blindness."

Zuko pretty much imploded. "We're not taking any more chances with your plants, Uncle! We need to get help!"

"So..." Iroh continued to scratch at his rashes almost feverishly, "... the Earth Kingdom, who we're enemies of, or the Fire Nation, who currently see us as fugitives,"

"If the Earth Kingdom discovers us, we'll be killed," Zuko placed his hand on his chin thoughtfully.

"But, if the Fire Nation discovers us, we'll be turned over to Azula."

The three of them exchange glances.

"Earth Kingdom it is."

▽

"You three must not be from around here," the healer said as she smoothed green paste onto Iroh's arms. "We know better than to touch the White Jade, much less make it into tea and drink it..."

Shia sighed as Iroh laughed nervously and remarked, "oops!"

"So, where are you travelling from?"

Zuko immediately bolted from his seat beside Shia, who looked at him warningly. He wasn't very good at the 'acting casual' thing. It was pretty amusing, actually.

"Yes," the prince chuckled nervously. "We're travellers!"

Well, the trio had tried to look the part, at least. Zuko was wearing dark brown and pale green robes. Shia was dressed similarly, albeit with more green. Not to mention, she wasn't wearing a cone hat – or her beloved mask, for that matter.

"Do you have names?"

"Names...?" Zuko said, though it sounded like a question. He seemed nervous. "Of course we have names! I'm... Lee! And this is my uncle, uh... Mushi!"

Iroh leant around the healer to glare at Zuko. It looked pretty comical considering his cheeks had swollen up because of the rashes.

"What about you?" the healer asked, looking over her shoulder to Shia. The girl offered her a hesitant smile.

"I'm Hei," she introduced herself politely.

"Yes," Iroh began, "my nephew was named after his father so we just call him Junior."

Shia laughed inwardly as Zuko slashed his fingers across his throat at Iroh threateningly. As soon as the healer turned around Zuko returned to a stiff-looking position, his arms at his sides, in an attempt to look normal.

"Mushi, Junior and Hei, huh? I'm Song..." the girl looked over to Shia, a cheeky smile on her face. "Are you and Junior engaged, or something? You seem close."

All three of them went silent. Iroh had eyes the size of saucers, whilst Zuko froze. Shia's raised her eyebrows at the statement.

Song seemed to grow suspicious when no one replied, so Zuko hurriedly agreed.

"Y—yes! That's exactly what we are..." he looked over to Shia, oddly flustered. She imagined it was due to his nervousness that they would be discovered. "Isn't that right?"

'What is happening.' Shia was legitimately struggling not to start wheezing right then and there. Somehow, she managed to pull on a convincing smile as she looked to Song.

"Yes, we are," Shia smiled gently, though in reality, she was sweating nervously. "What gave it away...?"

"Oh, I just got that impression from the two of you. Anyway... you three look like you could use a good meal," Song beamed. She abruptly slapped Iroh's hand, which he was using to scratch at a rash on his chest. "Why don't you stay for dinner?"

Zuko seemed to have finally recovered from the bombshell Song had dropped on them, his voice gradually regaining its firmness. "Sorry, but we need to be moving on."

"That's too bad. My mom always makes too much roast duck."

The words 'roast duck' immediately roused Iroh's love of food. "Where do you live, exactly?"

▽

Shia brought the bowl of noodles to her lips and sipped the broth quietly as Song's mother knelt next to her to place the roast duck on the table. They were seated in the open dining room of Song's home at the table, knelt on cushions, though Zuko and Iroh sat cross-legged. Shia sat at the tail end of the table, with Zuko and Iroh on her right and Song to her left.

"My daughter tells me that you're refugees," Song's mother smiled. "We were once refugees ourselves."

"When I was a little girl the Fire Nation raided our farming village," Song explained. Her eyes were wide as if she was reliving the events of that day. "That was the last time I saw my father."

"... I haven't seen my father in many years," Zuko confessed quietly.

"Oh..." Song looked up. Iroh and Shia both watched the exchange cautiously as they ate. "Is he fighting in the war?"

Zuko set his bowl down, looking away from their two hosts guiltily. "... Yeah."

When Song realised that the conversation with 'Lee' had come to a halt, she turned her attention to the more friendly of the three (not Iroh. He was busy stuffing himself with noodles).

"So, Hei... what about your family?"

Shia smiled with practised ease, having fallen into her role with abnormal grace after the events at the healers.

"My father died before I was born," she explained softly. She noticed that Zuko had looked to her curiously. He hadn't heard anything of her past, after all. Clearly, he was attempting to discern whether or not what she'd said was the truth, or if it was a lie to trick their hosts.

"That must have been hard on you..." Song's mother said gently, "What of your mother?"

Shia's gaze grew notably distant, and it seemed as though she were speaking to herself when she replied.

"We aren't very close."

Song and her mother exchanged awkward glances whilst Zuko looked at Iroh expectantly. Iroh looked down at his bowl, avoiding Zuko's stare.

Shia snapped out of her reverie, sensing that the atmosphere had become dark, and looked up with a small smile. "Anyway, your noodle soup is delicious! What recipe did you use?"

Song and her mother seemed happy to change the topic, whilst Iroh watched on with a knowing look in his eyes. Zuko, on the other hand, was clearly curious about Shia's history – but it wasn't something that he could bring up whilst they were in the presence of Earth Kingdom citizens.

▽

The night was warm and gentle, alive with the chirping of crickets and other insects. Zuko sat on the porch, alone, his legs crossed as he stared out into the darkness.

The door slid open to reveal Song.

"Can I join you?" she inquired softly, moving forward to sit beside him before he replied. "I know what you've been through. We've all been through it."

Zuko was silent, face set in a stony expression. Song looked to him with a warm light in her eyes. "The Fire Nation has hurt you..."

Song reached out towards his face hesitantly, towards the burn scars surrounding his left eye. Zuko stiffened and grabbed her wrist without looking at her. Song's gaze turned to the wilderness outside, her hands both returning to rest in her lap.

"It's okay..." Song lifted the clothing that covered her right leg, revealing burn scars that wove upwards from her ankle to her knee. "They've hurt me, too."

Chapter Text

▽

❝ There may be times when we are powerless to prevent injustice, but there must never be a time when we fail to protest. ❞

Elie Wiesel

▽

IT WAS NICE TO EAT AT A TABLE for a change, Shia decided. She hadn't realised just how much she'd missed some normalcy in her life, and it was pleasant to speak with someone who was around her age and didn't scowl all the time (ehem, Zuko).

"Thank you for the duck," Iroh beamed at Song's mother as they stood by the entrance to the comfortable home, "it was excellent."

"You're welcome," the middle-aged woman held two parcels out to Iroh; leftovers for the journey. "It brings me joy to see someone eat my cooking with such... gusto."

Iroh grinned widely, his eyes cheerful crescents, and patted his stomach contently. "Much practice."

They bowed to one another respectfully, and Shia thanked the two women politely.

"Thank you for the delicious meal, and for taking care of Mushi," she said with a grateful smile. "It was lovely to meet you both."

"The pleasure was all ours," Song's mother reassured. Zuko had already begun to walk off.

"Junior, where are your manners?" Iroh asked, "you need to thank these nice people."

Zuko turned, clasping his hands in front of his torso before inclining his head in a formal bow. Shia nearly rolled her eyes at his actions. Typical prince behaviour. His formality seemed so out of place in the rural landscape of the Earth Kingdom village.

"Thank you."

Then, Zuko turned back around and continued on his mission to leave as soon as possible. Shia quirked a brow at his retreating back and wondered inwardly why he was in such a hurry.

"I know you think there isn't any hope in the world," Song called after Zuko, "but there is hope... the Avatar has returned!"

"... I know," Zuko hissed. Shia looked to Iroh, her brow still raised, before once more bowing to their hosts.

"I'm sorry if Lee comes off as rude," Shia said gently, doing her best to play the role of doting fiancée. "He tends to be this way around others."

"It's alright," Song smiled.

Shia and Iroh said their final goodbyes before finally turning to trail after the brooding prince. Shia came last, closing the garden gate behind herself, only to pause when she noticed Zuko untethering the family's ostrich horse.

"What are you doing?" Iroh whisper-yelled at his nephew, "these people just showed us great kindness!"

Zuko pulled himself up onto the creature's back with ease, grabbing the reins and leading it to Iroh and Shia with practised grace.

"They're about to show us a little more kindness," he retorted, holding out a hand to them. "Well?"

Shia frowned deeply, but she could tell Zuko was adamant about stealing the steed. She couldn't bear to steal from someone who'd treated them with such generosity, though... so she reached to her side, where she kept a small pouch of coins, and moved to place them atop the stump which the horse had been tied to. They weren't worth the same amount, but Shia hoped it would at least help them out a bit.

Zuko had already pulled Iroh up onto the saddle and was waiting impatiently for her with a hand outstretched. Shia ignored it and swung herself onto the animal easily, seating herself behind Iroh comfortably.

She didn't want anything to do with Zuko in that moment.

What happened to his honour? His pride? Was he so above the peasantry that he could steal from them so thoughtlessly?

It was painful to see someone Iroh had so much faith in trample his kindness so recklessly. It made Shia's heart ache.

Shia didn't want to consider that she was upset because Zuko had failed her faith, too -- she didn't want to consider that maybe she thought of him as more than just the nephew of her mentor, as a friend, especially when the sentiment was not mutual.

▽

Shia smoothed the feathers on the ostrich horse's head down, humming to herself quietly.

She and her companions had stopped in a town to beg for money from those willing. Zuko was irritated that Shia had 'wasted' an entire pouch of money by leaving it behind for Song, but Shia acted as though he hadn't said anything at all. To Iroh, it was clear that his apprentice's cool indifference was beginning to get on his hot-headed nephew's nerves. Zuko was not the kind of person who tolerated being ignored.

Shia sighed to herself lightly. After they'd reached the small town, the group had sought a place to sit beneath the eaves of a building located by a busy street. The location let them rest, but it simultaneously exposed them to potential donors. The ostrich horse laid on its stomach with its legs tucked beneath it, head resting on Shia's lap, with Iroh sitting cross-legged near its stomach. Zuko was sulking with his back pressed against the creature's haunches, arms crossed over his chest and hat pulled low over his face.

"Spare coins for weary travellers?" Iroh asked a man walking past them. The man paused and reached into his pocket, tossing a coin into the cone hat Iroh was holding up. Iroh's eyes crinkled with joy and he thanked the man with a smile.

"This is humiliating!" Zuko hissed as the man left, "we're royalty! These people should be giving us whatever we want."

Shia was tempted to point out that 'these people' had lives of their own and families to support. Not everyone was a Prince of the Fire Nation.

"They will if you ask nicely," Iroh told Zuko wisely. Shia noticed a brightly dressed girl her age walking past.

Iroh seized the opportunity to pull off his best meek old man façade. "Spare change for a hungry old man?"

"Aw..." the girl cooed, reaching into her sleeve to remove a coin that she dropped into the hat. "Here you go."

"The coin is appreciated," Iroh prepared to use flattery. Zuko frowned, repulsed by his uncle, whilst Shia rolled her eyes discreetly and smiled. "But... not as much as your smile!"

Zuko slapped his forehead. Shia was both appalled and impressed. The girl giggled and continued on her merry way. An older man with a beard and a top knot, holding a sword slung over his shoulder, stopped in front of them — an arm propped on his hip.

"How about some entertainment in exchange for, let's say..." he held up a coin. "A gold piece?"

"We're not performers," Zuko growled. Shia sighed, but the sound caught the man's attention.

"You're not? That's a pity," he leered at her, "how about a kiss from the pretty one, then?"

Shia shifted uncomfortably. Iroh's polite smile faded. Even Zuko looked visibly disturbed somehow, despite his face being largely concealed by a hat.

"Sorry," Shia smiled at the man kindly, her hand ghosting over the surface of her guandao. "I'm afraid I can't offer you that. I could play a song for you, if that's alright?"

The man looked unimpressed but seemed to consider her offer for a moment. "Okay... but if you don't play well, I'm expecting a refund."

Shia tried not to allow the disturbed shiver running down her spine to get to her, and reached for the flute dangling from her belt. She'd memorised a few songs that she enjoyed particularly, so hopefully one of her favourites would be enough to satisfy him. If not... she'd have to take drastic measures.

Bringing the flute to her lips and positioning her fingers, she began to play. The gentle melody brought more attention to their group and a few passers-by stopped to listen. Shia closed her eyes (the stage-fright was making it difficult to focus) and the song drew to a close.

She wasn't spectacular, but it was a pretty song, and it was a lot more than many Earth Kingdom citizens ever got. The man looked somewhat surprised and tossed his coin into the hat without protest before leaving. Shia let out a relieved breath.

"Thank goodness..." Shia said aloud to Iroh. "I thought he'd keep insisting..."

"We'd step in if it got that far," Iroh reassured his student gently. Shia offered him a small smile.

Neither of them noticed the look in Zuko's eyes. He was already irate that they had to resort to begging to stay alive – but this? This was unacceptable! He was a prince; how dare some commoner harass one of his own soldiers in front of him? It was an affront to his pride and his dignity!

Zuko didn't stop to consider that Shia technically wasn't one of his soldiers, since she was Iroh's apprentice.

"I was more worried about the fact that I'd have to stab him in public," Shia added as an afterthought, ruffling the ostrich horse's feathers. Zuko was too distracted to hear her words, but Iroh smiled at her proudly.

"That's my apprentice."

▽

Night had fallen over the Earth Kingdom once more, and the man who'd asked for a kiss from Shia was walking down an alleyway by himself. He'd felt as though he was being followed for a while now, and the sensation was only growing stronger. His hands reached for the swords sheathed on his back, and he unsheathed the deadly weapons before spinning to hack at the air behind him.

"Who's there?"

No one.

The man paused, wondering if he'd simply made a fool of himself, before turning to face the other direction with his blades pointed. A startled shout escaped him as a gloved hand grabbed his wrists and twisted them. Both his swords clattered to the cobblestone. Following them was his body, which was tossed carelessly into a pile of crates. He stilled, unconscious, as his assailant crouched to retrieve his swords.

The attacker was clad in dark clothing from head to toe, no skin or hair visible.

Their only distinguishing feature?

A blue and white mask portraying a vicious spirit with a fanged grin peeling its lips back. 

Chapter Text

▽

❝ It is an ironic habit of human beings to run faster when they have lost their way. ❞

Rollo May

▽

EVENINGS IN THE WOODS WERE COLD. Unlike her two firebender companions, Shia relied upon the heat of the fire to keep herself warm once it was time to rest; though, recently, Zuko had brought back all kinds of things to furnish their abode. Among them were blankets for the three to cover themselves with, rugs, and a golden tea set.

Shia pondered the origins of the items one evening as she divided their dinner, soup made from what she found in the woods, into three bowls. The taste wasn't terrible, but it wasn't something to marvel at either.

Shia frowned at the bowls.

It wasn't as though she had any access to their usual spices in the forest. Iroh was a better cook, but after the tea incident, he was banned from cooking.

Turning from the empty pot with two bowls in hand with a sigh of resignation, Shia passed Iroh his dinner. He grinned at her widely, thanking her, before digging in as though he'd been starved for days. Shia appreciated his optimism about their less-than-satisfactory situation. At least one of her companions got along with her.

The bushes outside the cave rustled, and Shia looked up from her reverie cautiously. Zuko walked into the mouth of the cavern, two baskets hanging from his arms. He dropped them in front of Iroh wordlessly before turning once more to leave.

"Where did you get these?" Iroh asked curiously, reaching into the basket to retrieve a cream bun as he cradled his half-full bowl in the other.

"It doesn't matter."

Iroh hummed to himself as he bit into the bun, leaving Shia to follow the prince outside with the second bowl in hand. Zuko was sitting outside with his back leant against a boulder, arms crossed and face positioned to emulate his usual brooding look.

"I brought you dinner, Prince Zuko," Shia offered him the bowl awkwardly. Zuko took it from her, staring into the depths of the concoction as though it held some answer to their dilemma.

"Thanks."

▽

Shia ran a cloth over her guandao's blade smoothly, deep in thought as she worked. In recent times, she'd spent so much time trying to take care of the needs of her companions that she'd forgotten about her beloved weapon... the first gift she had ever received. Working on the blade calmed her. It'd been a staple part of her day back on the ship, though their current circumstances had caused the habit to fall out of practice. Across the cave from her, Zuko was half-asleep, leant back against the wall.

"Looks like you've been doing some serious shopping," Iroh remarked as he entered the abode. Shia greeted him quietly, brightening up when he responded, before watching as he crouched in front of an ornate golden tea set. "Where did you get the money?"

Zuko ignored the question, instead asking one of his own.

"Do you like your new teapot?"

"To be honest with you, the best tea tastes delicious whether it comes in a porcelain pot or a tin cup." Iroh got up and moved to sit beside Zuko. "I know we've been going through some difficult times lately. We've had to struggle just to get by... but that's nothing to be ashamed of! There is a simple honour in poverty!"

Iroh placed his hand on Zuko's shoulder, but despite his words, the prince's dark expression remained.

"There's no honour for me without the Avatar."

"Zuko..." Iroh closed his eyes and looked down, searching for words to offer. He looked back up at his nephew. "... Even if you did capture the Avatar, I'm not so sure it would solve our problems. Not now."

Zuko squeezed his eyes shut before saying quietly, more to himself than to them, "then there is no hope at all."

He got up to leave, but Iroh pulled him back down to sit in front of him. "No, Zuko! You must never give in to despair. Allow yourself to slip down that road and you surrender yourself to your lowest instincts! In the darkest times, hope is something you give yourself. That is the meaning of inner strength!"

Iroh and Zuko stared at each other for a moment, before Zuko's brows furrowed and he tore himself out of his uncle's hold. Shia and Iroh watched his silhouette mesh with the darkness before disappearing completely.

"I feel as though we should decide what we're aiming to do soon," Shia told Iroh, setting her guandao down gingerly. "Prince Zuko has been getting worse."

"He has," Iroh agreed. He seemed relieved to be able to confide in someone. "He's grown used to having a single goal no matter what these past years... now he's struggling to come to terms with the fact that it's impossible."

▽

Though it wasn't what she'd been planning to do when she left the cave, Shia ended up stumbling across the prince anyway. He'd perched himself in a tree, and from the scowl on his face, he was deep in thought.

"Prince Zuko?"

Zuko nearly fell out of the tree at the sudden appearance of Shia, who offered him a sheepish apology. Her mind drifted momentarily to the evening at the resort, when she had snapped at him for insulting Iroh. Zuko clearly had no intention of apologising, but she disliked holding onto anger, so she let the moment go with a sigh.

"What is it?"

Shia tried not to let his acerbic tone get to her. "I'm sorry for yelling at you when we were at the resort. It was out of line."

Zuko looked as though he'd been about to respond, but then he paused and contemplated her words. He didn't say anything.

"That was all I had to say. Thank you for your time."

Then she left.

▽

Zuko returned to the cave later that evening, when Shia was already half-asleep by the fire and Iroh was brewing a cup of tea.

"Uncle," Zuko began seriously, "I thought a lot about what you said."

"You did? Good, good..."

"It's helped me realise something..." Shia had a bad feeling he was going to say something that contradicted Iroh's advice. "... We no longer have anything to gain from travelling together. I need to find my own way."

Shia straightened up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She didn't know what to think. Zuko was leaving? She had to admit, after travelling with the guy for three years, it would be weird to not see him anymore. Iroh, too, seemed deep in thought. As they contemplated his words, however, Zuko had already left.

"Wait!" Iroh raced outside with Shia closely following. She watched as her mentor grabbed the reins of the resting ostrich horse and guided it to Zuko. Zuko paused, before taking the reins and slinging himself onto the saddle.

For a moment Zuko looked down, gazing at his uncle, before his eyes flicked briefly to Shia. His expression was unreadable, and Shia didn't realise she'd been holding her breath until the prince looked away and nudged his ostrich horse into motion.  

Chapter Text

▽

 ❝ Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen. ❞

Winston Churchill    

▽

THE WEATHER WAS FAIR AND QUAINT, and the forest was alive with birdsong.

Despite the cheery weather, however, Shia felt... melancholy.

Zuko had left, and Iroh's mind with him. Even if he'd smile at her and act like his usual, joyful self, she'd catch moments where he'd be staring off into the horizon with a faraway look in his eyes. Zuko's absence was taking its toll... on both of them. It felt odd not hearing Zuko complaining every single day.

Shia heaved a sigh and tossed another berry into her sack, after inspecting it closely for worms. In the days since Zuko had left, she'd been busy stockpiling a good amount of dried meats and berries. It'd be enough to keep them from starving, at the very least; she wished inwardly that she'd started doing it sooner so she could send Zuko off with some. She wondered, briefly, what he was up to — and then she snapped herself out of it.

There was no point lingering on him. She had to keep her mind clear, and focus on what was important; keeping Iroh and herself alive and healthy until they knew what to do next.

Shia parted a heavy curtain of vines and stepped through, continuing her search for berries.

She froze.

Crumpled on the ground in front of her, partially covered in dried leaves, lay a bleeding boy.

▽

"Huh...? W—where am I?!"

Shia looked over from the bubbling pot and saw that the boy had sat up from the ground, the blanket pooling around his waist. She'd wrapped his arms up with some bandages and dabbed a mixture of healing herbs on his bruises. It wasn't much compared to what an actual healer could have done, but it was all she could offer from her limited training as a soldier.

"You're safe," Shia reassured the boy gently. He blinked and looked to her curiously, eyes a vivid, startling green.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Hei, a traveller," she introduced herself politely, using her fake name. "You?"

"Akhil... everyone calls me Aki, though," he blushed and looked away from her, rubbing the back of his neck. He noticed the bandages then, and his gaze returned to her curiously. "You patched me up?"

"I tried to," Shia offered him a sheepish smile. She was curious about why he was lying unconscious in the middle of the forest. "What happened to you?"

"Oh..." Akhil realised, "you're a traveller, so you wouldn't have known... be careful while you're in these parts. There's a group of bandits in the area. They've been terrorising the village for months, but no one can do anything about it because all the soldiers are out on the battlefront."

Shia scooped some soup into a bowl and moved to kneel beside him. He thanked her, before continuing the story between sips.

"You see, my gran-gran's a healer – the best in the area, too! She lives with the rest of our family on the outskirts of the village... but lately, the bandits I mentioned earlier have been turning up at our house demanding that she takes care of their injuries free of charge." Akhil's cheerful smile shrunk, the shimmer in his eyes fading, "when she protests, they threaten our family. The other day they said they'd take my baby sister if she didn't do it... they said they'd return in five days... and when I tried confronting them yesterday, they..."

"That must have been difficult for you..." Shia murmured.

Akhil's lips curled into a boyish grin, and he shook his head at her. "Nah, this isn't much... you should have seen the other guy!"

Shia smiled at him genuinely – it was difficult not to. He had a charming atmosphere about him. He was a lot easier to get along with than Zuko, the only other boy her age she'd met.

Shia frowned inwardly.

Why was the prince suddenly popping up in her mind? He left! She should be grateful, considering how much he complained...

"Say... why don't you join my family and I for dinner?"

"Huh?"

"Please, you have to!" Akhil nudged her with his elbow playfully, "my gran would be so mad at me if I didn't! You helped me out, after all!"

"Um—"

"Please!"

"... If you're really alright with it, then... okay."

▽

"So, Hei, is it?" Miya, Akhil's grandmother, smiled at her kindly. "It's nice to see such a lovely face for a change."

Shia felt her cheeks heat up at the compliment and tucked back a strand of hair that escaped her braid. Akhil was teasing his younger sister, Lia, with a spoon of food. The child was barely a year old.

"Mom, don't tease the girl," Akhil's mother, Lin, retorted. Miya rolled her eyes and sent Hei a crooked grin.

"My grandson hasn't shut up about you since—"

"Gran-gran!" Akhil launched himself over the dining table to tackle the older woman, protesting furiously with a deep shade of red staining his face. "Don't embarrass me!"

Shia laughed at the sight and smiled warmly at Akhil, who'd settled down after a bit. "You seem close."

"We are," Lin smiled at the girl sweetly. "So... Aki mentioned you're travelling? Where to?"

Shia smoothed her clothes down distractedly as she replied, "I actually don't know yet. I suppose I'm just searching for a place where I feel..."

"At home?" Akhil filled in for her helpfully.

"Yes..." Shia looked down to her bowl of noodles, though she seemed distant when she replied. "... At home."

Why was it that when she imagined home she saw not a place, but people? 

▽

"Thank you for the wonderful meal," Shia bowed to Lin politely. The older woman merely smiled at the teenager.

"It wasn't a problem! You did save my delinquent of a son, after all – it was the least I could do!"

"Mom!"

Shia laughed when Akhil came barrelling out of the house, whining childishly. He'd clearly overheard his mother's jab at him.

Then, a blur of grey struck Akhil in the chest. He stumbled back from the sudden force and tripped over the edge of the porch before falling onto his back. Shia spun around, eyes wide, and saw that a group of five men wielding weapons had appeared from the treeline.

"Oh, what's this? The kid brought home a girlfriend?"

Shia gritted her teeth and was fully prepared to take them down when Akhil moved to stand in front of her. She frowned at his back as he began to speak.

"I might not be able to earth bend... but I won't let you hurt my family or Hei! Leave us alone!"

Shia heard the sound of metal cutting through the air and reflexively stepped around Akhil, pushing him away with her shoulder. One of the bandits had launched forward with a spear. Shia easily grasped the handle and twisted it out of his hold, whacking him across the head with the shaft. He crumpled to the ground, leaving her to smile up at the remaining four. With the gauzy veil concealing most of her features, all they could see were a pair of piercing amber eyes.

"Who wants to go next...?"

The first two went down easily after rushing at her recklessly. The next was a bit reluctant and tried to throw a dagger at her, though she allowed it to glance off of her forearm. It sliced the sleeve of her coat open, revealing her leather arm guard. Shia shifted from defence seamlessly and darted forward with a sweeping slash, using the momentum to twirl and knock him to the ground with a perfectly executed strike to the head.

Shia flinched at the sound of shattering ceramic and water splashing against wood.

"No... Lia! Leave my baby alone!"

Shia was facing the house in an instant. Her gaze flickered between Akhil, who was standing at the house's threshold with his hands raised in surrender, as Lin cried and Miya protested. Standing beyond Akhil, inside the house, was the last bandit.

And in his hands, Lia, with a blade at her throat.

Shia's heart dropped. Her limbs trembled with adrenaline, despite her steady stance. She couldn't rely on her weapon to save the child. Not at this distance, not with Akhil in the way; not with the limited space within the house. The only way she could win; the only way she could prevent innocent blood from being spilled... was to use her bending.

Shia would rather fight an army with a blade than a single man with her bending. It... wasn't something she was confident in. She'd learnt by herself, using the forms of the firebenders and intuition to guide her; she'd never been able to put it into practice in actual battle; never in such a tense predicament...

'What if I fail?'

Her eyes felt damp.

It all happened in the span of a second.

Shia dropped the spear and placed all her faith in the blood, sweat and tears she had shed over the years. All her pain, all her time, all her sorrow; if there was even a chance that she could help, she was willing to take the burden of failure onto her shoulders.

She'd never been so focused before. Not when she was nine, reading everything the servants could sneak into her quarters; not when she was eleven and she first began her training; nor when she was beneath the tutelage of Iroh, who painstakingly forged her into a soldier worthy of being his apprentice. She'd worked so hard to build a reputation, to build her strength — to make herself into something greater than her family.

Anything, if it meant she'd never have to go back there again.

But none of it seemed to compare to this. Everything went quiet, and all she could see was Lia, crying.

Blood splattered the walls.

Shia panted, sagging, sweat glistening on her brow as she eyed the mess in the doorway.

"Lia!"

Akhil swept into the house.

When he emerged, there was crimson streaked across his cheek and a wailing child in his arms.

"Thank the spirits..."

Shia wanted to go back to Iroh. She was so tired. The battle had been near effortless with her superior training, but that one second of bending had taken everything out of her — more so emotionally than physically.

"-ei. Hei, are you okay?"

Shia was pulled from a daze she didn't even know she was in by Akhil, whose arms were now empty, though blood still speckled his face. The crying child was now with Lin, who rocked her into a state of calm. Shia felt guilty for making him see that; for making all of them see that.

The battlefield wasn't something meant for civilian homes. Even if said civilians weren't Fire Nation civilians.

She'd never seen much sense in dividing people by something as nonsensical as their nation, much less killing them for it. Iroh had always taught her that all people were equally important, that all people were part of a greater picture; that killing an Earth Kingdom citizen was the same as killing a Fire Nation citizen.

She believed that wholeheartedly, though uttering such a thing in the presence of any other soldier would be grounds for treason.

"Huh?"

Akhil held her by her shoulders and glanced over her worriedly, eyes catching on the cut in her sleeve and her injuries; or rather, the lack thereof.

"You were incredible..." he breathed. Shia smiled awkwardly.

"I'm sorry. I... made a bit of a mess."

"Don't worry about it," Miya crowed, a bright grin on her lips. "You did it to help us — those bandits had it coming! I'd have decked 'em myself if I were younger!"

Shia smiled at the elderly woman, though it faded quickly.

"Is he...?"

She'd never killed someone before.

"Unfortunately, he's alive," Miya shrugged. "I'll patch him up and have the townspeople come cart em off to prison. I don't mind wasting a bit of poultice if it means ridding us of them once and for all."

Shia smiled again, though this time it was far more genuine.

▽

"Well... I should get going now," Shia smiled at the boy, who'd walked her to the edge of his family's property. "Stay safe, Akhil."

She turned and began to walk away, but paused when she heard him call out after her.

"Wait!"

When she stopped, he tentatively took her wrist. She turned and arched a brow at him.

"What is it?"

"Before you go... I, uh..." Akhil steadily began to turn redder and redder, before yelling abruptly, "sorry!"

Shia was about to ask what he was sorry for when he leant forward and pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek, over the veil. Just as quickly he pulled away, ears pink, and took a few steps away from her.

"Bye!"

With that, Akhil had run off, leaving Shia to brush her face with her fingertips contemplatively. A subtle blush dusted her cheeks.

"Bye..."

Chapter Text

▽

❝ Nothing is as painful to the human mind as a great and powerful change. ❞

Mary Shelley

▽

THE VILLAGE LOOKED TO BE ABANDONED, surrounded by rolling barren hills and roads devoid of life. A few brown mud huts crouched close to the ground, dark and without life. Shia glanced between her mentor and the buildings ahead, before following him without hesitation down the path and into the village. Iroh had called out to her with great urgency when he'd seen the Avatar's bison in the sky; he'd known with certainty that it would lead him to Zuko. It didn't surprise Shia that Iroh had never planned to leave Zuko.

Iroh knew that Zuko hadn't given up on his quest just yet.

And he was right.

It was pretty easy to spot the person crumpled on the ground. He was the first thing they saw, actually; besides the flames flickering in the thatch ceilings of the abandoned houses.

"Prince Zuko," Shia nudged him awake. Zuko's brow furrowed as he was pulled back to the realm of the conscious, and his eyes opened to reveal the same harsh amber she'd grown used to. His features seemed sharper, more pronounced; he'd lost weight since she last saw him.

"... Uncle? Shia?"

"Get up," Iroh told him sternly, holding a hand out to his nephew. Zuko grabbed his hand and was pulled into a sitting position, before shakily getting to his feet. Zuko explained what had happened; how he had battled Azula right here in the village; how she was still here, and how she was hunting Aang herself.

"So..." Shia trailed off, "... are we going to fight your sister now?"

▽

Azula raced away from the Avatar and his friends hastily, firing blasts of furious blue flame before turning a corner into an alleyway. She leapt over a pile of crates with feline grace, only to run straight into a familiar face. Iroh shoved Azula back, and the princess was quickly backed into a corner.

Surrounding her were Aang, Katara, Sokka, Iroh, Zuko, Shia and a dark-haired girl who Shia didn't recognise.

"Well," Azula began in that odd tone of hers, part scorn part condescension, though there was a nervous look in her eyes, "look at this. Enemies and traitors, all working together. I'm done..."

She raised her arms. Shia narrowed her eyes.

"I know when I'm beaten. You've got me. A princess surrenders with honour..."

Then she struck out.

Lightning arced through the air so fast Shia only saw the after-image, and then Iroh grunted and fell back. Shia felt a wordless scream escape her lips, and she saw that Zuko was yelling too. She abandoned her position and raced to her fallen mentor's side, just as the others fired their individual elements at Azula. The resulting explosion destroyed the buildings around them and sent flaming rubble everywhere.

When the dust cleared, Azula was gone. Zuko stumbled over and fell to his knees beside Shia, who was pressing her fingers to Iroh's neck, her gaze dark with fear. The prince groaned and brought his tightly balled fists to his face. It was so strange for him to express an emotion that wasn't anger that his cry caught Shia unaware, but she ignored it in lieu of finding Iroh's pulse.

Shia was distinctly aware of Aang and his companions approaching them with concerned expressions, but Zuko immediately turned to snarl at them.

"Get away from us!"

Shia felt Iroh's pulse flutter weakly against her fingertips, and relief flooded through her like a tidal wave. He'd be okay. It must have been due to his ability to redirect lightning – perhaps, instinctively, he'd redirected Azula's attack?

"Zuko, I can help—" Katara began, stepping towards them.

Fire bloomed to life, encircling Shia and Iroh as Zuko slashed his arm at Katara and the others. "Leave!"

"Katara..." Shia offered the younger girl a comforting smile from behind her veil, noticing the wide-eyed look on her face. "We'll be alright. Thank you, though."

Seemingly reassured by the older girl's words, Katara backed off. The rest of her friends soon turned and left quietly, leaving Shia to place a hand on Zuko's shoulder tentatively, unsure of whether he'd lash out at her or not.

"Zuko... we need to get him somewhere safe. I've got supplies with me. He'll be okay."

Zuko didn't respond. His shoulders were trembling. In the heat of the moment, Shia didn't realise that she'd forgotten to use his title. He seemed to be in shock, and she didn't blame him for it. For a terrible, heartbreaking moment, she'd thought he was dead. Zuko was afraid.

Shia didn't know what to do to help him, though. Her only options were options that certainly didn't befit their professional relationship.

Even so... she'd fail as a human being if she didn't comfort him at all. No matter how Zuko acted, Iroh was the one person he could trust.

Shia hesitantly rubbed his shoulder. Even to herself, it seemed awkward.

"Prince Zuko... Iroh will be okay, but we should treat him as soon as possible. Come on," Shia got to her feet. "I'm sure there's a building around here that isn't burning."

Zuko still didn't seem to hear anything she was saying, but when she slid her hand down his arm to grab his wrist and tugged, he got to his feet slowly. Shia slipped her hands beneath Iroh's shoulders and pulled him up enough to sling his arm over her shoulder. Despite still being dazed, Zuko took the other side. Together, both of them managed to carry Iroh's unconscious body further away from the abandoned village – at the crest of a nearby hill, they found a dilapidated house.

Shia set to work bandaging Iroh's chest and shoulder where it seemed the majority of the burns were. They'd heal without leaving scars. Zuko had watched her work for a while, before starting a fire to keep them warm. Shia finished with the bandaging and put the medicinal salve away. She sent a silent thanks to Miya, who'd given her the small satchel of supplies as thanks.

"So..." Shia sat down, placing her hands on her knees. "... what've you been up to, Prince Zuko?"

Zuko was brewing tea (trying to, at least), but didn't display any sign of having heard her. Shia was surprised when he poured the tea into a cup and turned to give it to her. She stared at it curiously before looking up at him, obviously confused. She'd never heard of a prince serving tea to a soldier; much less Zuko, the prideful banished prince who'd rather sulk in his room than associate with the soldiers running his ship.

Zuko sat down on the other side of the fire, leaning against the wall, and rested his hands on his chest.

"Nothing much," he said finally. Shia took a moment to realise that he was answering her question. "What about you and my uncle?"

Shia took a sip of the tea and tried so hard not to gag. It was... watery. And bitter. Did he use tea leaves or weeds? Overall, out of ten, she gave it a score of gross. She had to force herself to maintain a neutral expression when she answered him.

"Well, we gathered supplies, and I met some people..." Shia paused, and her face heated up as she recalled the innocent kiss she'd shared with Akhil. Looking up from her tea, she gazed at Zuko, and suddenly realised just how dark the bags under his eyes were and how unusually prominent his cheekbones were.

"You've lost weight," she noted. Zuko raised an eyebrow at her. "You haven't been eating well?"

Zuko seemed somewhat flustered at the accusation that he was unable to take care of himself. "Me? I got along perfectly fine!"

Shia offered him a friendly smile, setting down the teacup so that she could move to the bag of supplies.

"I ended up gathering a lot of excess berries and meat to dry," she told him distractedly, tugging out a parcel. She'd previously split the supplies into little packages so that she'd be able to prepare meals without emptying the entire bag. "There should be enough to last us a couple of days."

Zuko hesitated, but he didn't have much of a choice when she dropped it into his hands.

"Eat. You need to take care of yourself, Prince Zuko."

Under Shia's watchful gaze, Zuko ended up eating two packages of meat and berries.

Chapter Text

▽

❝ It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone. ❞

Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy

▽

WHEN IROH AWAKENED, the first thing he saw was a rather amusing exchange between Shia and Zuko. Shia had fixed his nephew with the stern look of a judgemental professional, her dark brows furrowed uncharacteristically as she showed him the correct ratio of leaves to water; much to Iroh's amusement, it seemed she was guiding his nephew through the basics of brewing tea.

Zuko seemed to be intently focused on the task at hand and didn't notice his uncle shifting uncomfortably. Shia, however, did. Iroh wasn't surprised. She'd always been startlingly observant, even as a new soldier. He had no doubt it was because of her upbringing. With a grandfather like that... Iroh dismissed the thought. He couldn't help but feel that his brother and Shia's grandfather were part of the same species, sometimes.

Cold, ruthless, willing to do whatever it took to maintain their power; it was no surprise that Shia was so tolerant of Zuko's antics. It wouldn't surprise Iroh if it was because she saw herself in his hot-headed, reckless nephew.

"Iroh!"

At her exclamation, Zuko looked up from his task, eyes brightening.

"Uncle!"

The two were on either side of Iroh in an instant. Iroh grimaced as he sat up, leaning against the mossy stone wall. As he looked up at the ceiling, he realised they must have taken shelter in one of the huts at the fringes of the abandoned village. The roof was made from dried thatch and had fallen through in some places to reveal a patchwork blue-and-grey sky.

Shia looked at him sympathetically, noticing his hand shifting to probe at the tender skin of his shoulder.

"You've been unconscious for half a day," she explained, helping to adjust his position by cushioning his back with a rolled-up piece of fabric. Zuko spoke next, his eyes fierce.

"Azula did this to you. It was a surprise attack."

Iroh managed to crack a smile through the pain. "Somehow, that's not so surprising."

Shia's eyes smiled at him, and he caught the gleam of her teeth from behind the gauzy green veil. She'd always worn coverings over her lower face, be they skintight black masks or loose feminine veils; he knew the scar brought back bad memories for her, so he let her do as she wished.

"I hope I made it the way you like it," Zuko said. Iroh snapped out of his reverie, attention shifting from his apprentice to his nephew; who was holding a cup of tea out to him. Iroh took it with a smile, glancing at Shia pleadingly. 'Is this safe to drink?' He wanted to ask her. If she noticed, she didn't say anything; sitting primly with her legs folded beneath her body and her hands resting in her lap.

With no other choice, Iroh had to take a sip of the tea. He noticed a ghost of a smile lingering behind Shia's gaze, just as the taste hit him. He wished it was poison; at least then, he wouldn't have to live on with his now mutilated taste buds. With his nephew's expectant gaze on him, however, he could only swallow his discomfort and smile awkwardly.

"G... good."

With Zuko's gaze boring into him, he was forced to down the rest of the cup's cursed contents. "That was very... um, bracing."

Zuko looked pleased with the sight of the empty cup and turned to refill it. Iroh could barely disguise his horror and was slightly annoyed to find that there was a glint of amusement behind Shia's calm gaze. She was enjoying every second of his torture.

Her smugness quickly vanished when Zuko passed her a cup of his witch's brew, too. Iroh used the opportunity to toss the contents of his own cup out the hole in the wall above him, poking his tongue out at his despondent apprentice in the process.

"So... Uncle, I was thinking," Zuko poured himself a cup of tea, ignorant to the silent conversation lurking beneath the silence, "It's only a matter of time before I run into Azula again. I'm going to need more advanced fire bending if I want to stand a chance against her. I know what you're going to say; she's my sister, and I should be trying to get along with her—"

"No," Iroh set his cup on the floor. "She's crazy, and she needs to go down."

Shia was at his side the moment he began to rise from the floor.

"It's time to resume your training."

▽

Shia left Zuko and Iroh to their training, using the opportunity to practice a few of her own abilities away from her companions. She'd found a small creek just a short walk into the woods behind the hut, and had followed it upstream to a more secluded area where she could practice without fear.

After the incident at Akhil's home with the bandit, she'd come to the realisation that she had to overcome her lack of confidence with bending. Just one moment had been enough to set her off her usual balanced, calm disposition; in the heat of a real battle, when she needed her bending to match up to her opponents, she doubted she'd stand much of a chance. She needed to overcome the fear that was tampering with her mind, with her movements — the fear that she'd relied upon for so long to keep herself safe.

After stripping off the outer layer of her clothes, alongside her veil, Shia waded into the deepest part of the creek. It was the place where the water rushed fastest, tumbling over the smooth pebbles that made up the creek bed and gliding over the sleek, dark-scaled fish that were swimming further upstream.

Shia caught a glimpse of her face in the rippling water and grew still. The deep burn scar that marred much of the left side of her neck and the bottom of her jaw was still as terrible to look at as ever.

She remembered the expression her attacker had made as he burnt her. He'd enjoyed her fear. It made her easier to control.

Shia stared into her rippling reflection's eyes. They were a shade of amber that most Fire Nation peoples had, but something about them had always made her uncomfortable. These eyes were her mothers; calculated and condescending. She hated them for that. She wished she had her father's eyes, which she imagined were the same startling blue as the other members of the Water Tribes. Even if her maternal family would despise them, at least she'd be comfortable with her own face. Staring into them for so long, Shia was sure that the face staring back at her was her mother's.

The thought alone had her lips curling back in disgust. Her stomach churned as she looked away, snatching her mask from where she'd placed it atop her outer robes and hurriedly tying the ribbon to secure it over her lower face.

It was hard to focus when she could see herself. It seemed as though every part of her brought back painful memories; at the very least, Shia took solace in the fact that she had inherited her father's skin. If she'd received her mother's, she was certain she'd go mad.

It didn't take much on her part to coax the water from the creek in trembling ribbons, once her face was covered. The water shimmered in the dappled sunlight like a transparent, crystalline serpent.

Shia remembered the graceful, flowing movements of the waterbenders at the Northern Water Tribe. Their movements had seemed effortless. Flawless. She doubted she'd ever be able to replicate their movements; not when she'd been trained her entire life to be fierce. Strong. Overpowering.

Then again, she imagined that the same was true for water. She remembered reading of tidal waves that surpassed mountains in their height, swallowing cities whole and sweeping away anything that stood against them.

Tsunamis, the book had called them.

Iroh had always said that each of the elements were separate but the same. Even if she wasn't the Avatar, she could take what she knew from the others to form her own understanding of water. It wasn't as deep or as developed as someone who'd been trained by a master, but... it was reassuring to have made progress. Even if it was just a little bit.

▽

Shia only let herself return to the hut once she'd raised the entire section of the creek she was standing in above her head.

She'd managed to hold it for a few seconds, but it had crashed down on her as soon as she began to set it down. She'd had to use what remained of her energy to bend the water from her body, though her dark hair hung in damp tendrils around her face. It was a good thing her veil was made from such light material; she hadn't needed to worry about drying it.

When she returned to the hut after catching and cleaning a few fish from the creek, she found Iroh and Zuko training together outside.

"Why can't I do it?" Zuko screamed, stumbling back. It seemed that he and Iroh were training to use lightning. "Instead of lightning, it keeps exploding in my face! Like everything always does!"

Shia pursed her lips as she unpacked the wood for their campfire. Zuko's voice had the kind of waver to it that only showed in a person's voice when they were frustrated and on the brink of tears.

"I was afraid this might happen," Iroh began soothingly. "You will not be able to master lightning until you've dealt with the turmoil within you."

"What turmoil?!" Zuko snarled. He was prideful. He'd never admit that there was anything wrong with him.

"Zuko," Iroh said warningly, "you must let go of your feelings of shame if you want your anger to go away."

"But I don't feel any shame at all! I'm as proud as ever!"

"Pride is not the opposite of shame, but its source. True humility is the only antidote to shame."

"Well..." Zuko's eyes caught Shia's for a moment over Iroh's shoulder, before he looked away from both of them. "... My life has been nothing but humbling lately."

Seeing Zuko had fallen into one of those moods of his, where he'd be unusually silent and brooding, Iroh sought to make amends. A loud Zuko was infinitely better than a silent one.

"I have another idea," Iroh began. Zuko looked at him tiredly. "I'll teach you a fire bending move that even Azula doesn't know because I made it up myself!"

▽

Shia left Iroh and Zuko to their training as she took stock of their inventory and prepared dinner. She'd set aside a change of bandages and poultice for Iroh's injury, and had been careful to shift the campfire to a place where it wouldn't be extinguished when she looked to the sky and realised a storm was rolling in. Hopefully, the little hut would hold out for the night.

When Shia emerged from the dwelling to check on her companions, she found them swaying side to side, arms waving in the air. It looked amusing, but she already had an idea of what Iroh was teaching his nephew; how to redirect lightning. She'd always admired Iroh for his ingenuity.

Things seemed to be going well until Zuko said something. Iroh reacted fiercely.

"I'm not going to shoot lightning at you!" Shia watched as Iroh turned away from Zuko. "If you're lucky, you'll never have to use this technique at all."

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Shia saw that the storm clouds that'd been hovering above the horizon had already rolled over the mountain range on the other side of the valley. She was glad she'd built the campfire undercover, but Zuko's expression gave her a new reason to worry.

"If you won't help me... I'll find my own lightning."

Within seconds, Zuko was on the back of the ostrich horse, which had been grazing in the dry grass outside the hut. By the time Shia and Iroh had registered his actions, all they could see of him was his silhouette as he raced towards the storm in the distance.

▽

Shia left Iroh at the hut with a promise lingering in the air.

"I'll bring him back," She'd reassured her mentor, whose expression of anguish had not gone unnoticed. For what felt like the thousandth time in her life, Shia cursed Zuko for his short-sightedness.

The rain had already begun to pour when she arrived at the base of the mountain, chest heaving, clothes plastered to her body. She was glad that the valley between the village and the mountain was flat and sparse of plants besides the dry shrubs. It had made the journey easier.

Shia found the ostrich horse first, shivering beside the dead tree it had been tied to. She cursed Zuko again for not considering the animal's wellbeing in his haste and guided it to a hollow beneath a rocky outcrop where she tied it up. She'd retrieve it once she descended the mountain with Zuko in tow.

It took a bit of effort to scale the rough mountainside, but it seemed that there were plenty of little paths to take. She'd reached the peak in time to catch a snippet of Zuko's screams, which she was able to hear even with the fierce winds whipping against her face. The icy rain stung her cheeks through the veil, and she cursed Zuko (again) for choosing such an inconvenient location. There was no cover to hide from the storm, this high up.

Then again, that's probably why Zuko chose it.

"You've always thrown everything you could at me...!"

Shia stared at his back wordlessly, almost forgetting how cold she was when she noticed how broken and vulnerable he sounded.

"Now I can take it! I can give it back!"

Two strikes of lightning illuminated the ominous clouds, and shortly after came a thunderous snarl. Shia stared at the frail silhouette of the prince in front of her and wondered briefly why her heart ached for him.

"Come on, strike me!" Zuko shook his fist at the sky, and she imagined he would have already thrown himself at it if it had a solid form. "You've never held back before!"

The rain hissed as it made contact with his skin, wafting off of his body in coils of steam. Shia felt as though she were trespassing on a private moment, and stood silently in the storm, averting her gaze from his trembling figure as he screamed at the heavens until his throat was raw and his voice was a hoarse whisper in the wind — then, he fell to his knees, and Shia was at his side.

He seemed to have known she was there all along, because he didn't react to her presence — or maybe he hadn't known, and he simply didn't care.

It was unsettling to see Zuko so miserable.

"Why is the entire world against me?"

Shia hesitated. She remembered her mother's scornful eyes, her eyes, and the pain that had seared through her memories when she was scarred. Looking at Zuko now, with his face buried in his hands and his shoulders shaking, she couldn't help but feel that they were one and the same.

"Iroh's on your side, Prince Zuko," she said finally. She hesitated once again, this time speaking as though the words were foreign to her. "And for what it's worth, I am, too."

Chapter Text

▽

❝ Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend. ❞

Albert Camus

▽

SHIA FELT LIKE SHE WAS BURNING. She'd tried to dismiss the way the world around her had swayed when she awoke that morning, but she'd barely been able to conceal how sluggish she felt from her companions. She needed to be strong. It was just a cold. She couldn't risk slowing her companions down, especially not now. She didn't want to be dead weight.

They were back on the ostrich horse, trodding on dutifully. Shia gripped the sides of the saddle unsteadily, glad that she was at the back. If Iroh saw her, he'd realise that something wasn't right. Luckily, Iroh had his own injury to worry about. He'd begun complaining about it not long ago, probably to hint to Zuko that it was time to stop for the day.

"Maybe we should make camp," Zuko suggested finally, having grown weary of his uncle's complaints.

"No, please," Iroh whimpered pathetically, sounding as though he were on his deathbed, "... don't stop just for me..."

He then raised his hand and stroked his injured shoulder tenderly, groaning as though he'd been stabbed just moments ago. Shia had changed his bandages herself; she was fully aware of the fact that it barely caused any pain. She would have laughed at her mentor's antics if she had the energy to muster a response.

Zuko fell for it, though. He pulled the ostrich horse's reins gently and hopped off gracefully. Iroh followed shortly, plopping down on top of a rocky outcrop. Shia slid off the saddle reluctantly; hanging onto the ostrich horse to steady herself.

"Thanks, Peanut," Shia pet the creature affectionately, glad that it stood steady despite her leaning into its side. It had a good temperament; far better than the Komodo Rhinos she was used to.

"You named it Peanut?" Zuko raised his brow at her. Shia nodded and made to step away from Peanut, but the world seemed to sway around her and she nearly toppled. She grasped the saddle in time to stop herself from falling, but the falter in her usual posture was enough to arouse Iroh's concern.

"Are you alright, Shia?"

Shia waved his concerns off with a tight-lipped smile, removing her guandao from her back and leaning against it to support herself.

"Just a bit light-headed."

It was pretty obvious that Iroh didn't believe her, but before he could probe, she noticed Peanut raise his head and look about cautiously. Shia's grip on the shaft of her guandao tightened, knuckles turning white, as something rustled in the bushes. Iroh and Zuko tensed.

Then, a group of men clad in armour burst from the trees, perched atop hulking rhinos. Shia recognised them from the appearance of the leader.

"Colonel Mongke," Iroh greeted, standing up. "What a pleasant surprise!"

The muscular man leading the group sneered at Iroh.

"If you're surprised we're here, then the Dragon of the West has lost his edge."

The men behind him all raised their weapons threateningly. It was clear that they expected the trio to be easy to bully, but they were far too weak to be a threat to any of the people they were facing. Iroh, the Dragon of the West, and Zuko, the banished Prince of the Fire Nation... their titles enough were alone to scare most. Shia breathed in deeply and urged her body to obey her will. She couldn't be dead weight. Especially not in a fight.

It was the only thing she was good for.

"You know these guys?" Zuko asked his uncle.

"Sure!" Iroh beamed as Shia slipped into the space beside him, "Colonel Mongke and the Rough Rhinos are legendary! Each one is a different kind of weapon specialist, and they are also a very capable singing group!"

"We're not here to give a concert!" Mongke hissed at Iroh, "we're here to apprehend fugitives!"

Iroh ignored him, instead beginning to muse about his thoughts on which tea blends suited each of the members. Shia smiled weakly behind her veil.

"Enough stalling! Round them up!"

The cheery mood was dispelled in an instant, and the three of them shifted into battle mode. Shia shook her head, trying to disperse the fog that seemed to be permeating her mind, and forced herself to concentrate.

'Take them down,' Shia urged herself, before lunging forward. Her attacks seemed painfully awkward to herself, and she cursed her weakness as she swiped at the first person who came her way. She ended up beating him down with brute force, not paying heed to strategies or deflecting blows as she usually would.

Shia didn't notice that Iroh had swung himself onto Peanut, circling around on the ostrich horse to snatch up her and Zuko so they could make a hasty getaway. She was intent on taking down as many opponents as she could — she'd lost any of the calm, collected composure she always fought with.

Shia didn't notice Zuko calling her, either, as she knocked an attacker unconscious with a fierce kick to the head. She stumbled as she landed, and suddenly, her feet weren't on the ground. In a blur of movement, Zuko had swiped her off the ground from atop Peanut, pulling her onto the saddle sideways as Iroh dug his heels into the ostrich and encouraged it to run faster.

The rhythmic thump of the saddle and the feel of Peanut's muscles bunching with each step was something Shia had gotten used to, and even found soothing; right now, though, she just felt... cold.

Shia's dazed expression didn't go unnoticed by either of her companions.

"Are you... are you alright?"

It was pretty clear that you weren't okay if even Prince Zuko, notoriously prideful and unwilling to associate himself with commoners, was worried about you. But Shia was so out of it she didn't even notice. She was too busy staring over Zuko's shoulder at the soldiers, most of whom were unconscious, as they sped off further down the dirt road.

Zuko had been keeping her steady in the saddle with a hand resting at her shoulder; without it, she'd have fallen off a while back. She was sitting awkwardly, sandwiched between the prince and her mentor, seated side-saddle.

When she didn't respond to his question, Zuko shook her lightly. Shia swayed with the motion and shivered suddenly, but some of the haze in her eyes cleared away as she looked at him.

Zuko looked back at her skeptically, realising she hadn't even heard his question. He'd never thought he'd see the day when Shia looked so... off. She'd been unusually reckless in the battle, too; she hadn't noticed him nor his uncle when they'd called out to her from Peanut. He'd had to drag her onto the saddle himself.

It was completely unlike her.

"What's wrong with her, nephew?" Iroh asked worriedly, though his gaze remained fixed on the path ahead. He needed to keep his attention on the road, but his concern for his apprentice was abundantly clear — Shia was always cool-headed and calculating. She was always aware of her surroundings. Today, in that battle, she'd been more reckless than he had ever seen her. She was worse than Zuko.

"I... don't know," Zuko responded, looking at Shia as though she were a question to be answered. "What's wrong with you?"

"It's just... a cold."

Zuko's gaze only grew more unreadable as he noticed the look in her eyes. Distant, confused; worlds apart from the sharp, observant gaze he had grown used to.

"I think she has a fever."

Iroh's concern was almost tangible, and he allowed Peanut to slow to a walk before leaning back to press the back of his hand to Shia's forehead. His eyes only grew more worried.

"That's a fever, alright."

"I'm fine," Shia insisted, but neither of her companions believed her.

"Do you have any old friends who don't want to attack you?" Zuko asked his uncle. Iroh blinked.

"Hm... old friends that don't want to attack me..."

▽

"No one here is going to help us," Zuko grumped, as positive as ever, "these people just look like filthy wanderers."

Even with a fever, Shia was able to convey that look of judgement she'd always make at him. He scowled back at her, but there wasn't any hostility beneath it. She was too delirious to care, anyway — even now, she had an unfocused look in her eyes. Inwardly, Zuko worried that leaving her alone would be an invitation for any of the sharp-eyed men nearby to swoop in and try their luck at stealing from her.

"So do we," Iroh replied to his nephew, sounding amused. His eyes caught onto something over Zuko's shoulder before he smiled slightly. "Ah... now this is interesting. I think I've found our friend."

Zuko followed Iroh's gaze and saw an older man seated at a Pai Sho game with no opponent seated across from him.

"You brought us here to gamble on Pai Sho?" Zuko asked disbelievingly, his cheeks puffing up.

"I don't think this is a gamble," Iroh said mysteriously. He walked away, prompting Zuko to stand and follow after him. He didn't forget to pull Shia along with him, annoyed inwardly that he had to babysit her. Another part of him felt guilty. He recalled the trip back from the mountains vaguely; Shia had guided him through the storm, down the treacherous slope of the mountain, and helped him onto Peanut. In the torrential downpour, they couldn't see where they were going, so she'd guided the ostrich by the reins as she walked ahead.

She was probably only sick because she'd walked back and forth in that storm to retrieve him.

Zuko felt bitter. It wasn't his fault that she'd gone after him, but he recalled what she'd said to him and felt guilty once again. She was one of the only two people who were actually on his side — the least he could do was keep an eye on her while she was sick.

With Zuko deep in thought, and Shia half-asleep on her feet, neither of them noticed the two bounty hunters watching the three companions with greedy eyes.

"Let's take them now!" Xin Fu, the more muscular of the two, hissed to his partner. Yu, his more intelligent companion, placed an arm out to deter him.

"This place is full of desperate characters. If they find out we're collecting a bounty, we might have to fight them all just to keep our prize," Yu led Xin Fu back to their seat in the corner, making the taller man sit down before glancing towards the trio inconspicuously. "Patience."

Meanwhile, Iroh took a seat at the Pai Sho table, across from an elderly man in dark brown robes. Zuko guided Shia to a stool beside the table wordlessly, standing at attention with a close eye over the proceedings.

"May I have this game?" Iroh asked.

"The guest has the first move," his opponent welcomed him with a smile.

Iroh returned the smile warmly and retrieved a piece from beside the board, placing it down in the centre with practised ease. The White Lotus.

"I see you favour the white lotus gambit," the elderly man said appreciatively, "not many still cling to the ancient ways."

Dipping his head, the man cupped his hands towards Iroh as a show of respect.

Iroh did the same, saying slowly and enigmatically, "those who do can always find a friend."

"Then let us play."

Immediately, the two went at it, placing down tiles left and right without even bothering to check where they were placing the pieces. Zuko's gaze only grew more and more confused as he watched, unaware of the conversation underlying their movements. Shia watched on dazedly.

If she were in the right state of mind, she would have found it sort of amusing to see the prince's face twist into a scowl when he saw that all the game had resulted in was the distinctive outline of a flower on the board – a lotus, to be specific. The symbol of a Grand Lotus.

"Welcome, brother," the elder's smile reached his eyes this time, as he spread his arms warmly. "The White Lotus opens wide to those who know her secrets."

Zuko huffed. He didn't appreciate being kept out of the loop. "What are you old gasbags talking about?"

"I always tried to tell you that Pai Sho is more than just a game," Iroh smirked at his nephew, playing around with the lotus tile. Zuko made a disgruntled sound.

"I'm not waiting all night for these geezers to finish yapping!"

Even Shia, half-asleep and feverish, jolted at the sound. Zuko shifted his gaze to the bar and saw a tall, muscle bound man making his way over to their table. Following closely behind him was a thin man with a long beard. Mercenaries.

"It's over! You three fugitives are coming with me!"

Before Zuko could react, Iroh's elderly opponent got to his feet and put himself between them and the mercenaries.

"I knew it!" He exclaimed, before turning back around to stare at them. Zuko looked at him oddly. "You three are wanted criminals with a giant bounty on your heads!"

"I thought Uncle said he would help!" Zuko hissed to Shia, forgetting momentarily that she was about as useful as a lump of coal with her fever, "why are you so calm? We're going to get caught!"

Shia shook her head slightly. "He is."

The elderly man had turned away from them again to glare at the two mercenaries, declaring loudly, "you think you're going to capture them and collect all that gold?"

Instantly, people were reacting. The word 'gold' seemed to echo throughout the bar. The bar went silent (besides the sound of cups being placed down and weapons being unsheathed).

Then, all hell broke loose. Everyone in the bar, excluding the trio of Fire Nation fugitives and the old man, launched themselves at the two mercenaries who were threatening their opportunity to earn money.

In all the chaos, Zuko and Iroh caught hold of Shia and hurriedly guided her through the conflict to the exit, from where they made a hasty escape alongside their saviour.

▽

After the chaos at the bar, Shia was glad to be able to sit down someplace safe and enclosed. The elderly man — Fung — had led them to a floristry store a short distance away from the bar and their pursuers. He gave the trio a moment to breathe, before finally speaking.

"It is an honour to welcome such a high-ranking member of the Order of the White Lotus," Fung bowed from the waist. "Being a Grandmaster, you must know so many secrets."

Fung stepped past Iroh, giving Zuko a chance to speak as they trailed after the man. Shia followed listlessly, leaning against her guandao heavily. Her mind had cleared a bit since morning, but she was so mortified by her lack of professionalism and tired from everything that had taken place that she didn't bother trying to speak.

"Now that you played Pai Sho, are you going to do some flower arranging, or is someone in this club going to offer some real help‌?"

Iroh ignored him. "You must forgive my nephew. He is not an initiate, and has little appreciation for the cryptic arts."

"And her?" Fung looked towards Shia curiously. She smiled tiredly and retrieved her own tile from her sleeve, flashing the image of the white lotus at the man. He beamed at her and cupped his hands, which she did in return. When they straightened, he looked at her worriedly. "You seem to have a fever. I'll prepare some medicine for you, so please, feel free to rest until then."

"Thank you."

Zuko grumbled, clearly unused to being the odd one out. Ignoring him, Fung turned to the wooden door and rapped his knuckles against its worn surface twice. The peephole at the top slid open, and the man on the other side spoke.

"Who knocks at the guarded gate‌?"

Iroh smiled. "One who has eaten the fruit and tasted its mysteries."

The door creaked open, allowing light to stream through the gap. Iroh and Fung entered, but before Zuko could follow the door slammed shut on his face. Shia plopped down on top of a wooden crate, heaving a sigh as she did so.

Zuko spun around so that he could begin interrogating her.

"Why can't we go in?"

"It's members-only," Shia replied curtly. She leant back against the wall and enjoyed the coolness of the stone.

"Aren't you a member of this stupid club?"

"I am," Shia confirmed, glancing at Zuko tiredly.

He scowled and plopped down on the crate across from her. An awkward silence passed, before he looked at her again.

"Why didn't you tell us you were sick?"

Shia lied.

"I didn't know it was that bad."

Even Zuko could tell that it was a lie.

"You should have told us."

"I'm a soldier," Shia replied plainly. "It doesn't matter. It's my duty to protect you."

"My uncle made it perfectly clear that you only served him, if I recall," Zuko retorted.

Shia glanced at him. "You're still the prince, and I'm still a soldier of the Fire Nation."

"I'm banished," Zuko hissed. "I'm a fugitive."

Shia stared at Zuko passively, much to his annoyance. She'd grown more and more annoying, in a way; back on the ship, she'd been silent and professional. The more time he spent with her, the more like a person she seemed. It had been easy to distance himself when she was just a soldier.

Now, she was one of the only two people who didn't stand against him.

Zuko hated how calm she was. It was like his uncle, in a way. The only difference was that Iroh was warm and open. Shia was cool and reserved.

"Why are you so concerned about my allegiance?"

Zuko paused. Shia watched him.

"You said you were on my side."

"I am," Shia responded calmly. "What of it?"

"If you're a soldier of the Fire Nation, why are you helping a fugitive?"

Shia didn't know how to reply.

Why was she helping Zuko? Because of his uncle? Because she had nowhere else to go? Because she actually was on his side, because she actually did believe in what he wanted?

"Because... I understand."

Zuko's brow furrowed, but before he could ask what she meant, Iroh emerged from the door once more. Behind him was Fung, who brushed past Zuko to give Shia a cup of bitter-looking green tea. She withheld a grimace, thanked him, and downed it in one go. Her face twisted slightly at the taste, but she still returned the cup with a smile.

"What's going on?" Zuko asked Iroh, "is the club meeting over?"

Iroh strode over to them and smiled mysteriously. "Everything is taken care of. We're heading to Ba Sing Se."

Iroh bowed to Fung respectfully, with Shia mirroring her mentor's actions clumsily as Zuko looked on. His expression made his confusion obvious to the others in the room.

"Ba Sing Se? ‌Why would we go to the Earth Kingdom capital‌?"

"The city is filled with refugees," Fung tucked his hands into his sleeves, before continuing calmly, "no one will notice three more. You can hide in plain sight there."

Iroh nodded, before elaborating. "And, it's the safest place in the world from the Fire Nation. Even I couldn't break through to the city."

Despite the fact that he'd been defeated by the Earth Kingdom in the past, there was only happiness in Iroh's tone. Abruptly, the bell at the entrance to the store chimed, and a young man entered.

"I have the passports for our guests, but... there are two men out on the street looking for them."

Shia raised a brow, wondering if it was the same men from the bar – her suspicion was confirmed once she glanced out the small window beside the door, and saw that the two were standing in the middle of the street holding up wanted posters. With a moment of rest and the medicine, her fever had already receded to a manageable heat.

"You seen these guys‌?" one of the mercenaries asked a passing man threateningly.

Shia, Zuko and Iroh exchanged glances worriedly, but Fung already had a plan in place.

▽

The door to the flower store slammed open and cracked the wall with a deafening thud, followed by the sound of ceramic splintering as one of the hanging baskets fell from the ceiling.

"Hey, you! Where are these men‌?" Xin Fu seethed, holding up the wanted poster of them that he'd found. "I got a tip that they're in your shop."

"As you can see," the florist (the man who'd guarded the door to the back room) gestured around the empty store, "no one is here but us."

"We know all about your secret back room," Yu responded coldly, before gesturing to his partner. "Kick it down."

Instantly, Xin Fu barrelled at the door, ignoring the florist's yelling as he collided with the door and broke both the barrier and the wall surrounding it. True to the florist's words, no one was inside the room – in fact, there was nothing within it aside from a single white lotus tile on the floor.

"Some unlucky soul has an incomplete Pai Sho set," Yu remarked, crouching down to pick the tile up. When he stood back up, Xin Fu merely huffed and slapped the tile aside.

"Let's go back to finding the girl."

If the two men knew where their targets were hiding, they would most probably have combusted out of rage. Two large flower pots were being towed away from the village on a handcart, and within them were none other than the three fugitives – Iroh nestled within one, with Shia and Zuko awkwardly pressed together in the other.

Chapter Text

▽

❝ We're given second chances every day of our life. We don't usually take them, but they're there for the taking. ❞

Andrew M. Greeley

▽

THE FAMILIAR SCENT OF THE OCEAN CALMED SHIA. Even if her identity aboard the ship had been a lie, she had seen more of the world atop the deck than she ever had in the books that kept her company as a child.

Now, she was aboard a ship once again; not as a soldier, but as a refugee.

Shia gazed out across the waters, knowing that far on the other side of this pass resided the fortress city of Ba Sing Se. The capital of the Earth Kingdom, and the place that Iroh had once besieged all those years ago — perhaps the only place where they would be safe from Azula's pursuit.

Iroh, standing beside her, gazed into the distance with a smile. "Who would have thought that, after all these years, I'd return to the scene of my greatest military disgrace... as a tourist!"

Shia laughed at Iroh as he turned to face her with a wide grin, a floral tourist hat perched atop his head. On her other side, Zuko scowled.

"Look around," he muttered darkly, "we're not tourists, we're refugees."

Shia glanced at him awkwardly as he raised the bowl of stew in his hands to his lips. As soon as it entered his mouth he spat it out over the railing, disgusted.

"Ugh! I'm sick of eating rotten food, sleeping in the dirt... I'm tired of living like this!"

Shia couldn't help but feel sympathy for the prince as he slouched over the rail dejectedly.

"I'm sure things will start looking up once we reach the city..."

Zuko glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "You're too optimistic."

"I hear you," a voice interrupted. From the shadows beneath the Captain's cabin emerged a boy with thick, dark hair and bronzed skin. Clipped between his lips was a piece of wheat. "My name's Jet and these are my Freedom Fighters; Smellerbee and Longshot."

The shorter of the two following him greeted them casually, whilst the taller remained silent but inclined his head in wordless acknowledgement. Shia gazed at them curiously before looking over to Zuko, whose back remained turned to the strangers.

"Hello," Zuko rasped. He paused; an invitation for Jet to continue.

"Here's the deal..." Jet stepped closer, his words directed solely at Zuko. "I hear the captain's eating like a king, while the refugees have to feed off of his scraps. Doesn't seem fair, does it?"

"What sort of king is he eating like?" Iroh asked.

"The fat, happy kind," Jet responded bluntly. Iroh began to drool, fantasizing about the food before Jet glanced back at Zuko. "You want to help us 'liberate' some food?"

Zuko was silent for a moment, staring down at the recesses of the bowl as though the repulsive stew held the answers to his questions.

Then, he tossed it into the ocean.

"I'm in."

Jet smirked as Zuko turned and walked over to him, discussing their plans alongside Smellerbee and Longshot. Shia watched them leave tensely.

"You don't like him?" Iroh asked quietly.

"Not in the least."

▽

Later that evening, Zuko and Jet launched their plan. By the time that they returned, the goods that had been locked away in the kitchen had been distributed amongst the refugees aboard the ship. Iroh and Shia had saved them their portions and a place to sit in a less crowded part of the ship.

"So..." Iroh began, struggling to find a conversation topic, "Smellerbee. That's an unusual name for a young man."

"Maybe it's because I'm not a man... I'm a girl!"

Smellerbee stormed off with Longshot trailing after her. Iroh seemed to realise his mistake too late.

"Oh! Now I see..." Iroh cupped his hands around his mouth and called after the girl's retreating figure. "It's a beautiful name for a lovely girl!"

Shia shook her head slightly, amused, before lifting her veil gingerly so she could sip her drink. She noticed Jet's gaze lingering on her and stilled, prickling with self-consciousness. She tried to ignore it but ended up allowing her veil to fall once more, placing the teacup down awkwardly.

"From what I heard," Jet began, "people eat like this every night in Ba Sing Se. I can't wait to set my eyes on that giant wall."

"It is a magnificent sight," Iroh agreed.

"So you've been there before?"

"Once... when I was a different man."

"I've done some things in my past that I'm not proud of, but that's why I'm going to Ba Sing Se: for a new beginning. A second chance."

"That's very noble of you," Iroh smiled quaintly. "I believe people can change their lives if they want to. I believe in second chances."

Shia wondered who exactly those words were directed to.

▽

Zuko stood alone at the helm of the ship, watching the dark coastline approaching from beyond the fog.

"You know, as soon as I saw your scar, I knew exactly who you were," Jet murmured.

Zuko tensed.

"You're an outcast, like me. And us outcasts have to stick together. We have to watch each other's backs because no one else will."

Warm mist escaped Zuko's lips as he responded, eyes hazy with memories of the people who had fought so hard to support him.

"I've realized, lately, that being on your own isn't always the best path."

▽

"So, Mr Lee, Ms Hei," the ticket lady peered at the details on their tickets, frowning, "and Mr, um... Mushy, is it?"

"It's pronounced Mushi," Iroh replied politely.

The ticket lady scowled, clearly annoyed by the correction. "You telling me how to do my job?"

Iroh's eyes went round.

"Uh, no, no," he stepped forward to prop an elbow against the countertop, smiling up at the woman. "But... may I just say, you're like a flower in bloom. Your beauty is intoxicating."

Shia's jaw dropped, and she looked at Zuko – who looked just as horrified as her, if not more. It only worsened when they heard the woman's reaction.

"You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself, handsome..." she purred, leaning forward slightly before stamping the tickets and sliding them to Iroh with a wink. "Welcome to Ba Sing Se!"

"Wow." Shia murmured to herself, glancing towards Zuko, who slapped his forehead out of irritation.

When Iroh turned around with the tickets, Zuko snatched two out of his uncle's hands, shoving one to Shia before he grumbled disgustedly, "I'm going to pretend I never saw any of that."

▽

"I think Lee would make a good Freedom Fighter," Jet told his companions, out of the hearing range of the trio. "He's just trying to find his way in the world, like us."

"You don't know anything about him, Jet," Smellerbee responded hoarsely.

"I know that he didn't get his scars from a waterbender."

Smellerbee frowned up at her companion. "I thought we were going straight now."

"We are," Jet responded cheerily. "The new Freedom Fighters could use members like them. What do you think, Longshot?"

Longshot looked over at him silently with a meaningful look on his face, blinking once.

Jet's expression remained unchanged. "I can respect that."

▽

Iroh, Zuko and Shia ended up waiting for their train to arrive at one of the circular benches ringing the stone pillars that supported the inner wall. Iroh was sitting to Shia's right, relaxed, whilst Zuko sat on her left, slouched, arms crossed over his chest, with a brooding darkness in his eyes. Shia frowned when she saw Jet plopping down on Zuko's other side.

"So, you guys got plans once you're inside the city?"

Before they could reply, a cart rolled past them, with the seller yelling, "get your hot tea here! Finest tea in Ba Sing Se!"

Iroh beamed and waved his hand, beckoning the seller over. "Ooh! Two cups of Jasmine, please!"

The seller wheeled over to them and passed Iroh two leaf cups, filling both with tea before leaving hastily after receiving his payment. Shia smiled at her mentor and thanked him when he passed one of the two cups to her.

However, she came to regret everything when she actually took a sip of the drink. Though she made no sound, her crinkled brow expressed everything that needed to be said.

Iroh, in contrast, was very vocal about his discontent.

"Blaugh!" Iroh spat the tea out, "Ugh, coldest tea in Ba Sing Se is more like it! What a disgrace!"

Shia laughed at her mentor's words, but before either could start a conversation about how terrible the tea was, Jet interrupted once more. Shia hid her displeasure, relaxing her furrowed brows before either of her companions (or Jet) could notice.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a second?"

Zuko watched Jet get up and walk a few steps before sighing and pushing off from his seat reluctantly. Shia watched him plod after Jet suspiciously, head tilted unconsciously as she contemplated what it was Jet could possibly want.

Had he caught onto their identities?

"You and I have a much better chance of making it in the city if we stick together," Jet began once he and Zuko were out of hearing range. "You want to join the Freedom Fighters?"

"Thanks, but... I don't think you want me in your gang."

"Come on," Jet insisted, "We made a great team looting that captain's food. Think of all the good we could do for these refugees."

Zuko scowled and turned to return to his companions. "I said no."

"Have it your way," Jet huffed. He seemed ready to leave, but then he noticed something odd.

Iroh's tea now had coils of steam escaping from it – even though, just moments ago, he'd been complaining about how cold it was.

Jet's eyes widened as realisation dawned upon him.

Shia looked up just as Zuko returned to her and Iroh, with Jet glaring after him. What had they been talking about?

Her confusion only grew when Zuko glanced over his shoulder at Jet, who squinted at them suspiciously before strutting away.

Then, Zuko spun back around and slapped the teacup out of Iroh's hands; sending it to the floor. Shia's confusion only deepened.

"Hey!" Iroh protested.

Shia looked up at Zuko. "What's wrong?"

Zuko leant closer to the two of them, gritting, "what are you doing firebending your tea? For a wise old man, that was a pretty stupid move!"

Shia withered when Zuko turned his death glare on her. "And why didn't you say anything?"

"I... kind of didn't realise."

Zuko moved away from her, realising that he was still leaning in uncomfortably close, before sighing resignedly. "I'm surrounded by idiots."

Shia shot him a look of offence, muttering just loud enough for him to hear, "at least you're among your own kind, then."

Then it was Zuko's turn to look offended.

Before the battle of wit could truly get fired up, they heard Iroh sniffle.

"I know you're not supposed to cry over spilled tea, but..." he sniffed once again, sounding heartbroken as he looked at the overturned cup on the floor, the tea spilt pooling between the cobbled stone. "...it's just so sad!"

Shia couldn't help but throw her head back and laugh, much to Zuko's irritation.

"Don't encourage him!" 

Chapter Text

▽

❝ Human greatness does not lie in wealth or power, but in character and goodness. People are just people, and all people have faults and shortcomings, but all of us are born with a basic goodness. ❞

Anne Frank

▽

BA SING SE WAS NOT A UTOPIA, contrary to popular belief. Decrepit and filled with desperate people who did desperate things to survive, the Lower Ring of the powerful fortress city was worlds apart from the reputation that preceded it. The city's outskirts were a place that favoured the strong.

Shia had long since removed the fabric hiding her guandao's blade from view, allowing the weapon's sheen to discourage any straying eyes. Iroh walked between her and Zuko cheerfully, cradling the brown flower vase he had bought tenderly as he looked about their surroundings.

Shia smiled at her mentor, but Zuko seemed unamused.

Iroh noticed, but simply grinned at his nephew, eyes twinkling. "I just want our place to look nice, in case one of you brings home a friend!"

Blood rushed to Shia's face as she realised what her mentor was insinuating. It was a good thing her veil concealed the shift in hue; it'd have been humiliating if either of her companions had noticed. Iroh nudged her with his elbow suggestively, offering Zuko the same treatment.

Of course, Zuko's scowl only deepened at that.

"I doubt I'll be bringing anyone..." Shia trailed off.

"This city is a prison," Zuko said bleakly, "I don't want to make a life here."

"You're both so pessimistic about your love lives!" Iroh said airily, waving their words away like they were dust particles in the breeze. "Life happens wherever you are, whether you make it or not— now come on, I found us some new jobs, and we start this afternoon!"

"You did?" Shia raised her brows, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye curiously. "Where?"

"Oh, you're going to love it! Just wait!"

Out of sight of the three companions, blending in with the crowd, was Jet.

"Look at them," he gritted, coming to a halt in the middle of the street, "firebenders, living right under everyone's nose."

"Jet, you saw a man with a hot cup of tea," Smellerbee sighed. "It doesn't prove he's a firebender. And what if he is, are we supposed to attack them‌? I thought we were starting over here, changing our ways."

"We are," Jet insisted, though his words seemed hollow. "When I get the evidence I need, I'll report them to the police and let them handle it. Okay?"

▽

"Well, you certainly look like official tea servers," the manager of the tea shop, Pao, smiled at Shia. She returned it awkwardly, finishing up with tying Zuko's apron for him before stepping aside and smoothing her own one down. "How do you feel?"

"Excited," Shia piped in, trying to keep the mood up.

Zuko frowned, a sheer contrast to the girl beside him. "Ridiculous."

Beside them, Iroh fidgeted with the strings for his apron. "Uh, does this possibly come in a larger size?"

Pao smiled, and Shia felt glad that they'd found someone understanding to be their employer. "I have some extra string in the back. Have some tea while you wait!"

After pouring the beverage into three cups, Pao headed to the back of the shop. Shia raised her cup to her lips, before noticing Iroh's repulsed look and deciding against it.

"Blech!" Iroh held the cup away from himself, looking at it with disgust, "this tea is nothing more than hot leaf juice!"

"Uncle," Zuko began heatedly, "that's what all tea is."

Shia stared at Zuko in slack-jawed horror, before exchanging glances with Iroh, who looked even more shaken than her.

"How could a member of my own family say something so horrible?!" Iroh asked, appalled.

Zuko pouted. Shia nearly laughed at the prince's expression as Iroh took her cup of tea and tossed it out the window, calling over his shoulder, "it seems we'll have to make some major changes around here!"

None of them noticed Jet crouched beside the window, eavesdropping on their every word.

▽

Later that evening, after a rewarding day of hard work, Shia was sitting on the floor happily in the small apartment that had come with their employment. Iroh busied himself at the other side of the room, where a tiny kitchen was crammed, and behind her, Zuko was flopped over on the small cot in the corner that Shia was leaning her back against.

Zuko had long since given up on brooding by himself — after weeks in the wilderness with Iroh and Shia, he'd had no choice but to grow used to their presence.

To be honest, he didn't know how he felt about that.

Shia ran a cloth over the blade of her guandao gently, humming to herself as she maintained the weapon that had been her only possession for as long as she could remember. Iroh had given it to her, back when she'd first become his apprentice.

Outside the window, on the balcony across from the trio's, crouched Jet. He watched them talk with a feverish glint in his eyes — waiting for one of them to trip up and expose themselves for the monsters they were.

"Would you like a pot of tea?" Iroh asked, humming as he rummaged through the draws.

Shia agreed instantly, eyes alight as she looked up from her work.

"We've been working in a tea shop all day!" Zuko hissed, "I'm sick of tea!"

"'Sick of tea?'" Iroh repeated, shocked, "that's like being sick of breathing!"

Iroh rummaged around within the compartment below the stove, frowning to himself before straightening up. "Have you seen the spark rocks to heat up the water?"

"They're not there," outside their apartment, Jet smirked to himself, glancing at the stones he'd stolen. "You'll have to firebend, old man."

He scowled, confused, when Shia placed her weapon down and disappeared further into the building.

"Where're you going?"

From his position, Jet couldn't tell where the girl had gone.

Shia returned quickly, though, and passed a few stones to Iroh. "The neighbours lent me theirs."

"Such kind people!" Iroh exclaimed brightly, "I'll make sure to thank them sometime."

Jet huffed and turned tail, realising that his attempt to reveal their true identities had failed.

He was running out of ideas.

▽

The next evening, Jet was watching the trio work in the tea shop.

"Jet, we need to talk," Smellerbee touched his shoulder.

"What‌?" Jet turned to face her, before recognising his companion. "Oh great, it's you guys. Where have you been‌? I could use some help with surveillance here!"

"We've been talking, and we think you're becoming obsessed with this. It's not healthy."

"Oh, really?" Jet glanced at Longshot, eyebrows raised. "You both think this?"

Longshot placed his hand on Smellerbee's shoulder.

Smellerbee spoke for both of them. "We came here to make a fresh start, but you won't let this go, even though there is no real proof!"

"Well, maybe if you'd help me—"

"Jet, you gotta stop this."

"Maybe you've forgotten why we need to start over," Jet hissed. His two companions looked away guiltily. "Maybe you've forgotten about how the Fire Nation left us all homeless‌. How they wiped out all the people we loved. If you don't want to help me, I'll get the evidence on my own!"

And with that, Jet made for the tea shop.

▽

"Feel free to call me over when you need a refill," Shia smiled at the two men sitting at the table, though the only sign she was smiling was the slight arch of her eyes. They beamed back at her, giving the girl an opportunity to head back to the counter with her empty teapot.

"This is the best tea in the city!" the man seated at the table Iroh was serving exclaimed with sparkling eyes.

"The secret ingredient is love," Iroh smiled warmly, waving a hand through the steam coiling off his teapot before turning to the back of the shop where Pao was. Shia noticed Zuko come up to the counter beside her, staring after his uncle bitterly.

"This is stupid," Zuko turned to her.

Shia smiled and nudged him playfully. "Come on, you have to admit, Iroh's tea is the best tea."

"All tea tastes the same," the prince stated plainly. Shia quirked a brow at him, eyes dancing mischievously.

"Tell that to the tea you brewed that one time," Shia smirked. "My taste buds still haven't recovered from that experience."

"Hey! You didn't say that my tea was bad earlier!"

"I'm pretty sure that, back then, you'd have tried to kill me if I said that your tea tasted like dumpster juice."

"Would not! And it didn't taste like dumpster juice, Uncle liked it!"

Shia merely hummed in response as she waited for the water in her teapot to boil, her lips curling into a knowing smile as she recalled how Iroh had poured Zuko's tea out the window before his nephew could notice. Iroh returned from the storage room, having heard their exchange, and laughed when he noticed Zuko's pout and Shia's smug look.

"You two are such children," Iroh shook his head with a fond smile. Shia beamed at him.

It was moments like these that made her remember why she fought.

To protect the people who made her happy.

Pao emerged from the storage room, walking up to them with a happy smile as he looked around the lively teahouse.

"I think you're due for a raise—"

The doors to the teahouse burst open. Shia could have sworn she heard a crack as they slammed into the wall, and noticed quite a few customers leap out of their seats.

"I'm tired of waiting!" Jet stormed into the tea shop, pointing an accusing finger at them, "those three are firebenders!"

Shia tensed as he unsheathed his hook swords. She looked to Iroh for directions on what to do next, but he seemed just as conflicted as her – unlike Zuko, who was already in attack mode.

"I know they're firebenders, I saw the old man heating his tea!"

One of the customers Shia had just served looked up from his drink, stating blandly, "he works in a tea shop."

"He's a firebender," Jet insisted, motioning at Iroh and his companions with his hook swords, "I'm telling you!"

The customer who'd spoken stood up, alongside his partner. "Drop your swords, boy. Nice and easy."

Jet scoffed, ignoring them as his gaze shifted to Zuko. "You'll have to defend yourself. Then everyone will know. Go ahead, show them what you can do."

Slowly, Jet began to stalk towards Zuko – ignoring the people on the sidelines.

Just as the man who'd spoken out began to draw his own swords, Zuko stepped in and snatched them from his sheath.

"You want a show? I'll give you a show!"

Zuko slipped into a fighting stance with practised ease, hooking the leg of a nearby table with his foot before kicking it at Jet. Jet sliced the table in half and leapt over it, swinging both hook swords at Zuko fluidly at the same time. Zuko deflected them and pushed off the ground, leaping back onto another table which was sliced in half by Jet with a single swing. The prince managed to balance on one half of the table, only abandoning his position when Jet sliced the legs of the segment he was standing on.

As he landed, Zuko swung both broadswords at Jet's feet – Jet somersaulted away, landing in a crouch before charging at Zuko once more.

In all the confusion, Shia ducked into the back room and snagged her guandao (which she'd left resting beside the door in case of such an event). She'd been suspicious that they'd get tangled up in something nasty soon, though she didn't realise it would happen so fast — and certainly not in such a public area.

Her companions had a knack for attracting trouble.

Shia knew she had to interfere soon. They could not risk letting Jet provoked Zuko into using his fire, even if the prince's combat abilities were unmatched by most. They could not afford to be caught in the middle of an impenetrable city.

"You must be getting tired of using those swords," Shia heard Jet holler, "why don't you go ahead and firebend at me?"

Shia returned in time to see Zuko and Jet burst out of the shop and onto the street. Jet darted after Zuko, hailing down blows with both his swords.

What he didn't realise in his state of rage was that a passerby had the misfortune of standing behind Zuko. When Zuko dodged, the man behind him, frozen in fear, was unable to defend from the two swords hurtling down at him.

Shia swept into the battle. Twirling her guandao in a smooth circle, she pinned Jet's hook swords to the ground and (whilst he struggled to pull them out from beneath her hold) struck him in the side with a kick that launched both him and his weapons into the air. As he rolled away she ushered the bewildered victim away, turning her attention back in time to sidestep a swipe. Jet swung his swords down, but Shia stepped around him fluidly and struck the backs of his knees with the butt of her guandao. She caught sight of Zuko scowling at them from the sidelines, the twin broadswords resting loosely by his sides.

She was going to get an earful later for interfering in his fight, for sure.

"Please, son, you're confused!" Iroh cried out, playing the role of a concerned old man perfectly as Jet buckled to the ground, "you don't know what you're doing!

Shia realised Jet's temper was rising. He panted, dirt smudged on his face and clothes from the short exchange. She didn't give him any chance to fight back, levelling her guandao's blade over his throat threateningly.

Shia dared him to try with her eyes.

"You see that‌?!" Jet yelled hoarsely, "the Fire Nation is trying to silence me! It'll never happen!"

"Please stop struggling," Shia responded politely, a gentle smile playing on her lips, "I don't want to hurt anyone."

She glanced up when she heard footsteps, and saw two armoured men approaching them. Soldiers.

"Drop your weapons," the one to the left demanded, "except for you, Miss. Please keep them in place as we restrain him."

"Of course," Shia smiled kindly. She heard Zuko dropping his swords, and after a tense moment, Jet did so as well. She had a feeling he'd turn his anger on her if she wasn't holding a blade to his throat.

"Arrest them, they're firebenders!"

From behind Shia, Iroh spoke. "This poor boy is confused, we're just simple refugees."

"Our customers tried to stop him," Shia added, piling the evidence up against him, "but he wouldn't listen to reason."

"This young man wrecked my tea shop, and assaulted my employees!" Pao declared, stepping out from the crowd. More voices followed as the customers of the shop spoke out in defence of the servers. Shia felt... guilty, as she realised they truly believed that she and her companions weren't Fire Nation.

She felt as though she was taking advantage of their kindness.

"It's true, sir! We saw the whole thing! This crazy kid attacked the finest tea maker in the city!"

"Oh, ho, ho." Iroh's voice did nothing to hide his delight. "That's very sweet."

Shia smiled. Iroh was certainly enjoying this more than he should have – though she couldn't fault him for it. His tea really was the best.

The two soldiers used earth bending to restrain Jet with handcuffs before permitting Shia to release him.

"Come with us, son."

Jet began to squirm as they dragged him to a nearby wagon with the symbol of the Earth Kingdom stamped on the side. The windows on the back were barred, indicating that they were the law enforcement officials of Ba Sing Se – the Dai Li.

"You don't understand!" Jet screamed, the doors swinging shut on him, "they're Fire Nation! You have to believe me!"

Shia tried to ignore the spark of guilt his voice kindled in her.

Chapter Text

LIFE AS A TEA SHOP EMPLOYEE WAS QUIET. Shia was glad she no longer had to worry about keeping her companions alive — she finally had a chance to just… live. She’d needed the break.

It was starting to get a bit boring, though.

Shia balanced herself delicately on the small stepladder, flattening her left hand against the shelf as she felt around for a container of dried on the topmost shelf.

“Hey, we have a problem,” Zuko said quietly from somewhere behind Shia. His low voice indicated that he was trying to be secretive about the topic. “One of the customers is on to us. Don't look now, but there is a girl over there at the corner table. She knows we're Fire Nation.”

Shia grinned as she found the jar she was looking for, and began to slowly climb down the ladder with one hand holding the container against her body.

“You're right, Zuko,” Iroh said with a smile in his voice, standing at the stovetop as he waited for the water to boil. “I've seen that girl in here quite a lot.”

“Oh, is it the girl who has a crush on—”

Shia made the mistake of distracting herself while she was in a precarious position. She accidentally stepped on the edge of one of the ladder’s rungs. The entire ladder began to topple as her weight shifted abruptly — and then, she was falling. Shia barely had room to move in the cramped space behind the counter, and prepared herself to land awkwardly, hugging the container to her chest in hopes of protecting it.

A pair of hands caught her waist and steadied her before retracting just as quickly. Shia blinked a few times, startled, before turning around and realising her saviour was none other than Zuko. She was taken aback for a brief second, before flashing him a grateful smile.

“Thank you.”

The prince merely nodded, looking away from her as soon as their eyes locked. Shia quirked her brow at him curiously.

“Are you alright?” Iroh asked worriedly, checking Shia carefully before finally relenting when she waved him away.

“I am,” Shia laughed lightly at her mentor’s concern. “Thank you for your concern.”

Iroh shook his head with a smile, but before he could say anything more, Zuko spoke up.

“What did you say about the girl?”

Shia laughed at his clueless expression. “You haven’t noticed yet? Iroh and I realised ages ago!”

“Indeed,” Iroh agreed, a devious smile on his face. “She’s clearly enamoured with you.”

Zuko made a bewildered sound, before managing to croak, “what?”

Before they could explain, the girl they were talking about appeared at the counter. Shia nearly jumped out of her skin in her haste to look like she wasn’t just gossiping with Iroh, turning around to busy herself with the jar she’d retrieved. Beside her, Iroh was pretending to dry an unwashed tea cup.

“Thank you for the tea,” the girl handed Zuko (the only one facing her) a few coins. “What's your name?”

Shia and Iroh smiled at each other secretly.

“My name's Lee,” Zuko said finally. Shia nearly laughed at how awkward he sounded.

“Hi Lee, my name's Jin…. um… I was wondering if you would like to go out sometime.”

Before Zuko could respond and embarrass himself, Iroh spun around and chimed in with a radiant smile. “He’d love to!”

“Great! I'll meet you in front of the shop at sundown.”

Shia laughed lightly as she turned to face her mentor and his nephew, watching as the pretty brunette girl walked out of the store. Iroh slung his arm over Zuko’s shoulder with a wide grin, ignoring the prince’s scorching glare.

▽

Later that day, the trio were back in the apartment. Shia and Iroh were fussing over Zuko’s look for the date (well, Iroh was fussing. Shia was just trying not to laugh and make Zuko even angrier).

“This is stupid,” Zuko gritted, glaring at his reflection in the mirror. Shia wheezed when he turned around to show her his hairdo in all its dorky glory – smoothed down with gel, and parted neatly through the center.

“No it isn’t!” Iroh beamed at Zuko, putting the comb he’d used back in the pocket of his apron, “you look very handsome, nephew—don’t you think so too, Shia?”

Shia grinned at Zuko, trying not to let her mirth show.

“Absolutely adorable.”

Zuko scowled at her, but the longer he did the more flustered he seemed. Shia couldn’t help but laugh again as he looked away from her, his face rubescent and his lips pressed into a firm line.

“Not exactly the look I was going for.”

▽

“Pao’s offered to let us have the remainder of the evening off,” Iroh began once Zuko had left, “why don’t you go explore the city a bit?”

Shia smiled, attention still on the teapot she was cleaning as she shook her head. “I don’t really have much to do, so I think I’ll just stay here.”

“Are you sure?” Iroh gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “You haven’t gotten any time to yourself, recently. I’m worried about you.”

Placing the washcloth down, Shia wiped her hands off on a towel before looking back at her mentor with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I’m sure,” Shia admitted lightly. Still, it was difficult not to divulge information to her mentor when he looked at her with such imploring eyes. “Thank you for worrying about me, though.”

“You’re like a daughter to me, Shia,” Iroh smiled at her tenderly, eyes crinkling at the corners, “it’s my duty to worry about you.”

Shia was struck speechless for a moment. She didn’t know what to say — she didn’t know what to think.

Iroh thought of her as a daughter…?

“You… really mean it…?

Even to her, Shia’s voice sounded timid. She had never let herself assume anything about Iroh’s attachment to her. She was scared that it would only lead to disappointment.

Iroh spoke as though his words were a matter of fact, smiling at her warmly.

“Of course, my dear – it would be terribly rude of me to say such things without meaning them.”

Shia couldn’t stop herself from throwing her arms around him. She didn’t even notice that she was trembling until he squeezed her comfortingly, running a soothing hand over her hair. He smelt like jasmine and tea and warmth.

“... thank you.”

For a moment, Shia let herself forget everything her family had put her through. She forgot their hunt for the Avatar and Zuko’s banishment and the fact that they were fugitives hiding in the heart of enemy territory.

In the moment, she was just a scared child seeking comfort from the only parental figure she’d ever had.

▽

Later that night, as the moon reached the zenith of its journey through the sky, Shia settled down in her room with a comb in hand. The room was small. Smaller, even, than the tiny space she’d had back on the ship all those months ago — but it was hers.

As she gazed up at the moon, bare-faced now that she was in the privacy of her own space, she recalled Princess Yue, who had died so that the moon could live on. She offered a silent prayer to the girl, before returning to the careful process of untangling and braiding her hair. It’d grown significantly longer since they had left the North; and with the added length came the responsibility to care for it. Shia sighed as she tied the long braid off, arms aching from having been held up for so long. By the time she set her comb down, she could hear movement in the room beside hers.

Zuko had returned.

“You’re still awake?”

Shia nearly jumped at the sound of his voice, surprised that he’d bothered speaking at all. It was easy to hear him, considering the only thing separating the three small bedrooms was a paper screen.

“I am,” Shia said finally, looking at his silhouette even though it didn’t make any difference. “How was your date?”

She’d only asked it as a courtesy, but now that she thought about it, Shia realised she was genuinely curious about how it had gone. Knowing Zuko, he’d embarrassed himself quite a few times during the event — the thought made her smile.

“It wasn’t a date,” Zuko said haughtily. Shia’s smile widened. “But… it was nice.”

“I’m glad,” Shia curled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “You should enjoy yourself more often; you’re still young, after all.”

“You’re beginning to sound like my uncle,” Zuko sounded a bit annoyed, though Shia could tell it wasn’t genuine. “Besides, you’re the same age as me – shouldn’t you be taking your own advice?”

He paused.

“Wait… how old are you?”

“Well…” Shia paused, reluctant to reveal the truth. She had a feeling he’d hold it over her head forever – he just seemed petty like that.

Zuko made an annoyed sound that reminded her of a cat. “Come on, just tell me.”

Shia sighed.

“Sixteen, same as you.”

“And…?”

Shia had hoped he wouldn’t want her to elaborate. Her cheeks puffed up unconsciously as she glared at the screen separating them.

“I’m… two months younger than you.”

“Huh.” He didn’t even need to say anything to sound smug, though he didn’t push the topic any further. “What did you do today?”

“Nothing noteworthy.”

Silence. Their conversation had come to an awkward standstill. Shia didn’t know what to talk to him about — she’d never really just… talked to someone. Especially not Zuko. There had always been some kind of drive behind their discussions, some reason behind them; they’d never just… chatted.

Assuming the conversation was over, Shia shuffled around on her futon and pulled the blanket over herself. She hesitated briefly, glancing from the ceiling to the screen.

“Goodnight, Prince Zuko.”

He didn’t respond.

Shia ignored the prickle of discomfort she felt at that, looked back at the ceiling, and reminded herself sternly that she was still just a soldier — even if they were fugitives.

She would never be his equal.

“Wait.”

Shia snapped out of her thoughts and turned her gaze back to the paper screen.

“Yes?”

“Uncle said that we have the day off tomorrow.” Zuko paused, and Shia wondered why he sounded so odd. “There’s not really anything to see around these parts, though. Do you, uh…”

He faltered, and seemed to be struggling to think of what to say. Shia’s eyebrows bunched together. It was unlike him to think his words over.

“Come explore the city with me tomorrow?”

It sounded like a demand, at first — but the lilt at the end made Shia realise he was asking.

Strange.

“Of course,” Shia said finally. She didn’t know what else to say. An outing with Zuko… would certainly be a change of pace, to say the least. “Is there anything in particular you wanted to do?”

“No?” Zuko sounded unsure. Shia only grew more confused. It was unlike Zuko to want to go on a meaningless outing — then again, perhaps he had an ulterior motive.

That didn’t seem likely, though. Zuko was… well, he was Zuko.

“Well… I’ll see you tomorrow, Prince Zuko. Goodnight.” Shia fidgeted with her blanket awkwardly, but was surprised to hear him speak once more.

“Goodnight, Shia.”

▽

The next day, after a hearty breakfast with Iroh, Shia and Zuko set off on their trip. Iroh had been beyond excited to hear that they would be going on an outing together — hurriedly passing them a small pouch of coins and a basket of snacks with all the affection of a mother hen.

Shia should have realised the issue sooner.

She was awkward. Zuko was awkward.

When left alone together, they were extra awkward.

In fact, they were so awkward that the first five minutes of their aimless street wandering were silent.

Eventually, Shia couldn’t take the silence any more.

“So… how did yesterday go, exactly?”

Zuko seemed surprised by the question, but his surprise quickly shifted to embarrassment as he looked away with a scowl.

“It was nice, I guess.”

Shia couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that.

“You don’t sound very sure… what did you do?”

“Nothing—” Zuko reacted defensively, before cutting himself off as he realised something. “Wait… why are you assuming that I did something?”

Shia reminded herself not to use his title or name in public before she answered.

“Do you really want an answer to that?”

Zuko nodded furiously. Shia smiled.

“I don’t mean for this to offend you, but… you aren’t exactly the most socially adept person.”

Zuko’s scowl deepened, though Shia could tell it wasn’t serious anger.

“I can’t tell if you’re trying to insult me or if you’re naturally this straightforward.”

She grinned.

“A bit of both, if I’m being honest.”

Zuko scoffed.

“Not such a goody-two-shoes after all, are you?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Shia paused as she realised that the crowded streets had melted away not long ago — they’d taken a path that branched off the main street, and now they were at a small wooden bridge. It branched off from the stone path they were on to a small grassy island at the centre of the pond, where reeds gathered at the edges and turtle ducks swam. A quaint gazebo made from stone rose out of the little island — a slice of nature in the hustle and bustle of city life.

Shia’s eyes lit up, though she didn’t realise how obvious her excitement was.

“Turtle ducks!”

This time, it was Zuko who raised his brows at her.

“You like turtle ducks?”

Shia glanced at him and looked away awkwardly, suddenly aware of how childish she must have sounded.

“I, um…” Shia began, hesitating as she looked at him before continuing. “I had a garden, back… home. There was a family of turtle ducks that liked to raise their ducklings there.”

Zuko seemed surprised, but then nodded lightly.

“I like turtle ducks, too.”

Shia stared at him blankly.

The idea of a young Zuko, stone-faced, playing with a turtle duckling… it was somehow both adorable and hilarious.

Shia couldn’t help but laugh at the image.

Zuko pursed his lips and looked away, face flushed. “Wh… why are you laughing about that?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just… you playing with a turtle duckling makes for an interesting mental image.”

Zuko pouted, which only made Shia laugh more.

“Well, since we’re here, we might as well have lunch,” Zuko snapped. Shia sobered up, realising she might have taken it a bit far (considering she wasn’t exactly his friend), and nodded.

With a sigh, Zuko headed across the bridge to the gazebo. They plopped down at the stone bench and Shia placed the basket of snacks on top of the table, unpacking the meal Iroh had made for them before noticing a strange sound in the air.

She recognised the sound easily enough; a turtle duckling.

It sounded as though it was in distress.

Zuko glanced at her curiously as she left the basket half unpacked, walking down the stairs of the gazebo to the small grassy slope that led down to the pond. It took a bit of searching to locate the source of the distressed cries.

A lone turtle duckling, trapped in the gutter that fed rainwater into the pond. Shia knelt as soon as she saw it, leaning down to scoop the little creature up with both her hands. It only cried more when it saw her, but with her reflexes, it was pretty easy to corner the little thing. She fished it out of the empty gutter and got to her feet — only to nearly drop it when she turned around and walked straight into Zuko.

“You caught one?”

Shia smiled awkwardly and stepped away from him hastily. “It was stuck in the gutter.”

Zuko’s lips twitched, but he didn’t seem mad. The duckling continued to quack desperately, reminding Shia that she was still holding it captive. She searched her surroundings curiously, looking for any sign of the mother.

Shia stepped past Zuko when she noticed the mother duck, quacking anxiously from where she was standing in the reeds. Instead of approaching the mother and risking injury, she simply placed the duckling down a few steps away and let it waddle down the slope back into the mother. Shia couldn’t help but smile as the mother duck checked over her child before ushering it away to join its siblings, who were huddled together in the pond awaiting the mother’s return.

“Why are you spending your time saving a bird?” Zuko questioned. Shia glanced at him. There wasn’t any malice behind his tone — only curiosity.

“It didn’t cost me anything to do so,” Shia said finally, offering him a small smile that he couldn’t see. “Besides, what point is there in having strength if I can’t use it to ease suffering?”

Zuko’s eyes were unreadable, which made Shia a bit self-conscious. She dusted her dress off and looked away from him.

“We should have lunch.”

Zuko agreed quietly, and the two shared their meal in silence. Shia saved a portion of hers (a few titbits of berries) and gave Zuko the chance to finish his meal without having to be in her presence, happily making her way back down the stairs to where she’d seen the turtle ducks. She noticed they had lingered, perhaps used to humans feeding them — and confirmed her suspicions when they began to paddle over to her.

By the time they reached the shore, Shia had plopped down on the grass and tossed a few berries onto the ground in front of her. The mother duck eyed her before allowing the duckling to waddle onto land, quacking excitedly as they sought out the food. Shia tossed another berry to the mother before hearing movement behind her. She glanced back and saw Zuko, who spared her a glance before plopping down beside her and crossing his legs. She was surprised to see that he’d brought a few berries as well, and watched out of the peripherals of her vision as he tossed a few to the ducks.

One of the ducklings waddled over to Shia, inspecting her hand (which she’d left open on the ground) before stepping onto it. She nearly squealed, and placed a berry on her palm for it to eat. It seemed to not care as she lifted her hand, content with eating the little scraps.

Shia could feel Zuko’s gaze on her, and glanced at him with a smile.

“Mind holding out your hand?”

Zuko frowned at her for a moment, and she faltered — realising it wasn’t in her place to ask him for anything. To Shia’s surprise, however, he did as she asked. She beamed and placed the duckling on his hand; much to his surprise, it was quite content with the position, and simply cocked its head at him curiously.

Shia didn’t know quite what to cool the emotion that radiated through her when she saw the small, peaceful smile curling Zuko’s lips… but she knew she liked it. More than she should have.

After a few seconds of letting the duckling poke at his fingers, Zuko placed his hand on the ground and allowed it to rejoin its family. His gaze shifted back to Shia, who blinked back at him curiously.

“I’ve been meaning to ask…” Zuko trailed off, before resuming when she prompted him with a quirk of her brow. “Why didn’t you want to go back to the Fire Nation with Uncle and I? When my sister came for us at the resort…”

Shia paused, and turned her attention to her hands. She’d never thought Zuko would show any interest in her past; but then again, he did have a tendency to surprise her at the strangest times.

“It’s a complicated story,” she said finally, turning to offer him a subdued smile. “I’m more like a burden to them than a relative.”

“I get that,” Zuko said quietly. “My father, he told me… Azula was born lucky. I was lucky to be born.”

The glint of understanding — of true understanding — in his eyes was enough to pull words from Shia’s lips before she could even think of them.

“Your father is wrong. I’m sure that one day… you’ll make him realise that.”

Shia didn’t know how, or why… but after all this time at his side, it was impossible not to believe in Zuko. As short-tempered and arrogant and ignorant as he could be, he’d always held a certain humanity to him that his sister and father seemed to lack.

Maybe he wasn’t so different from Iroh after all.

Shia was so deeply engrossed in her thoughts that she didn’t notice the strange expression on Zuko’s face as he stared at her, speechless.

“Why do you wear a veil? Is it… because of the scar?” Zuko pressed.

Shia blinked at him. She was aware that he’d caught glimpses of it — it was difficult not to, considering they’d spent so long around each other — but it had never been the full extent of the scar. Only the section on her face; and even then, only for seconds at most.

Shia didn’t want to lie. Not when Zuko had entrusted her with a brief mention of his own past (though she knew most of it from Iroh, anyway).

Not when he’d felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable around her, even if only a little.

“... yes.”

At least, the scar was part of the problem.

“You look good, though,” Zuko said plainly, before realising what his words entailed and turning a furious crimson. “Like, uh… I think you look nice, but not in a weird way or anything. Just, uh… ugh, I’ll shut up now.”

Shia laughed at his expression, ignoring how her heart seemed to throb at his words. It was… oddly sweet, how awkward he was when he was trying to reassure her. It made her feel as though there was a chance that they could be friends.

“Thank you.”

Zuko looked away from her, ears red, as he took a moment to recollect himself.

“I… got my scar from my father for talking out of turn,” Zuko said quietly, pulling his knees up to his chest. Shia glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “I’m sure you already know that, though.”

“... I got mine from my grandfather,” Shia said finally. “For being naive.”

A comfortable silence filled the air between them, before Zuko spoke once more.

“Do you ever take that veil off…? Why do you wear it?”

Shia fixed her gaze upon the ripples on the surface of the pond, noting the way the sunlight danced on the water. It took a few moments for the words to leave her lips, cautious and halting as though at any minute the mood would shift and she’d have to turn tail.

Strangely enough, she didn’t want to stop.

“I wear the veil for many reasons,” Shia said finally. “The scar is just one of them. I… resemble my mother more than I’d like. It brings back unpleasant memories, so...”

‘It’s easier to hide it.’

She left the words unsaid, but Zuko seemed to understand.

“What about your father?”

Shia smiled awkwardly and looked away, resting her chin on her knees. “My father… I don’t know much about him. He passed away before I was born.”

She could feel Zuko’s eyes on the side of her face, and reluctantly turned her gaze to him.

“And I do take the veil off,” Shia added awkwardly. “Sometimes.”

Zuko stared at her for a moment, and she could tell he wanted to ask her to take it off. To stop hiding.

She couldn’t do it. Not now. Her burdens weren’t his to bear, Shia reasoned — but some part of her realised that she was scared. She didn’t know if it was self-consciousness, or trauma, or perhaps something else; the scar had always been a symbol of what set her apart from her family.

It wasn’t just her heritage. It was her; Shia would never be strong enough to be as blindly loyal to the Fire Nation as her grandfather and her mother were.

They were the kind of people who would kill to preserve themselves, preserve the fragile reputation that kept them in the Fire Lord’s good graces.

They’d killed her father for him.

They’d killed whatever familial love they’d had for her for him.

Shia wondered if Zuko would do the same.

Would he give up everything in a heartbeat for his father?

“Prince Zuko…?”

“Yeah?”

Would you go back if you could?

Shia bit the words back before they could reach him, and looked away nervously. “We, uh… we should start heading back.”

She got to her feet hastily, dusting her clothes off, looking everywhere but him.

“Zuko.”

Shia paused. “What…?”

“Just Zuko,” Zuko repeated, offering her an awkward smile before adding, “please.”

Shia pursed her lips, tempted to refuse, only to notice the stubborn glint in his eyes.

“Okay…”

Zuko raised a brow at her, and she would have been frustrated if she didn’t find his persistence so… amusing? Adorable?

Shia grimaced inwardly at the thought. Her mind was getting out of hand.

“Okay, Zuko.”

Zuko smiled boyishly, and her heart skipped a beat.

Shia wanted to pretend, even if only for a moment, that he was content with his life as Lee — living quietly in a run-down tea shop, serving people tea, working from dawn to dusk; that he was okay with staying here, with Iroh, with her…

But in the end, she knew that he would always be a prince.

And she’d always be a soldier.

Shia smiled back at him tentatively, as a breeze stirred the grass and streaks of dusk began to paint the sky.

This won’t last forever.

Chapter Text

THE NEXT MORNING, Zuko put his apron on without so much as a complaint — in fact, it seemed to Iroh that his nephew was actually not angry for once (which was as close to happy as Zuko got). Shia had left the tea store early in the morning with a list of groceries to purchase in hand, leaving the prince and her mentor to take care of customers. Iroh had watched her go with a knowing smile, pleased to see that she and Zuko were interacting with one another as equals.

Iroh was returning to the counter with his teapot in hand when the wealthy-looking customer he’d just served got to his feet, flanked by two burly bodyguards. Judging by the many rings glinting on his hands and the fine silks draped over his body, he was in possession of a considerable fortune.

“So, you’re the genius behind this incredible brew,” the man beamed. “The whole city is buzzing about you! I hope Pao pays you well.”

Iroh blinked at him innocently, before replying with a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Good tea is its own reward.”

The man lifted his teacup to his lips purposefully, the rings on his finger glinting in the light. “But it doesn’t have to be the only reward. How would you like to have your own tea shop?”

“My own tea shop…?” Iroh pondered the thought, before a slow smile crept over his features. “This… this is a dream come true!”

Pao, who’d been standing at the counter, looked horrified.

“What’s going on here?!” Pao exclaimed, rushing across the store to place himself between the rich man and Iroh. “Are you trying to poach my tea-maker?!”

“Sorry, Pao,” the man offered him an unapologetic grin. “But that’s business for you, am I right?” 

Pao shot him a scalding look, and turned his attention on Iroh, who was already daydreaming about his new store. “Mushi, if you stay, I’ll make you assistant manager— wait, senior assistant manager!”

“I’ll provide you with a new apartment in the Upper Ring,” the businessman grinned. “The tea shop is yours to do whatever you want; complete creative freedom.”

Zuko, who’d been sweeping the floor, glanced at the businessman darkly. He didn’t like the idea of anchoring himself to this city, to this place that wasn’t his; was his uncle moving on from their past? Their reality?

“I even get to name the store?”

“Of course!”

Pao scratched the back of his head. “Uh… senior executive assistant manager…?”

Iroh smiled and handed Pao the teapot, ignoring his old boss as he turned to bow towards the beaming businessman.

Zuko scowled and dropped his broom, storming to the exit of the store with his fists clenched.

“Did you hear that, nephew?” Iroh laughed giddily as Zuko passed him, unaware of his nephew’s darkening mood. “This man wants to give us our own tea shop in the Upper Ring of the city!”

Seeing an opportunity to butter his new golden goose up, the businessman smiled at Zuko warmly. “That’s right, young man! Your life is about to change for the better!”

Zuko rolled his eyes, pausing in the doorway that led outside to the street.

“I’ll try to contain my joy.”

With that, he slammed the door behind himself, releasing a frustrated groan. A pale sheet of paper fluttered past, and he caught it instinctively; eyes skimming the writing rapidly. Zuko’s eyes widened, and his hold on the poster tightened.

A missing poster for the Avatar’s bison…?

The Avatar was in Ba Sing Se?

Zuko’s eyes, wide with shock, shifted from the poster to the sky hastily. Several more posters were gradually fluttering down from the sky, carried by the breeze. The first emotion that flickered in Zuko was shock.

And then, staring at the sky, his determination to capture the Avatar was rekindled.

He could still have his honour.

He could still go home.

Zuko’s body moved on instinct, and he found himself clambering up the building to perch himself on the roof before he even realised what he was doing. His eyes returned to the sky once more; searching for a glimpse of the child whose capture would give him back everything he’d lost.

Nothing.

“What are you doing up there?”

Zuko jolted at the familiar voice, and looked back to the street to find Shia looking up at him with a curious gleam in her eyes. Her arms were empty (she must have stopped by the apartment to drop their groceries off), and the ever-present veil draped over her lower face.

Zuko shoved the poster into the pocket of his apron, praying the girl hadn’t noticed it, before replying.

“Just enjoying the view.”

Shia laughed, and in seconds she’d pulled herself up onto the roof alongside him. Zuko reached out to help her up, withdrawing his hand once she was firmly on her feet, hands resting on her hips.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Shia’s eyes curved a bit, and he could tell she was smiling. “What’s wrong, Zuko?”

After Shia had revealed her identity to him all those months ago on the ship, Zuko had found himself irritated by her calm, perceptive demeanour and her steadfast loyalty to his uncle. He’d seen her as nothing but another soldier before the revelation; faceless and voiceless, but ever-present. Once there was a face to the name, a voice to the presence, he couldn’t help thinking of her as an ally — especially after everything that had happened since the revelation.

It made him wonder about her family.

What kind of a grandfather could hurt someone like Shia? Awkward but reassuring, calm and composed and cautious but surprisingly humorous; what kind of a person could hurt Shia, who didn’t tell her companions that she was ill because she was afraid to burden them?

‘The same kind of person as Father,’ a tiny part of Zuko thought grimly. He strangled the treacherous thought before it could bloom, and looked away from Shia hastily.

“... Uncle got a job offer,” Zuko said finally. “An apartment and a tea shop in the Upper Ring of the city.”

Shia blinked, and tilted her head like a curious bird. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

Zuko pursed his lips, tempted to tell her but painfully aware that she probably wouldn’t approve.

“It’s nothing.”

▽

Shia entered the apartment with Zuko a step behind her, finding Iroh at the small table packing his belongings away in a wooden trunk.

“Shia,” Iroh greeted his apprentice with a wide grin, patting the seat beside him. “I take it you’ve heard the news?”

“Zuko told me,” Shia replied, sitting down where he’d indicated.

“I was thinking of names for the shop; how about the Jasmine Dragon? It’s dramatic, poetic; has a nice ring to it.”

Shia smiled at Iroh affectionately. His enthusiasm was infectious. “It sounds wonderful. I’m happy for you.”

Their conversation was cut short by Zuko, who’d been more cold than usual on their walk to the apartment. Shia didn’t want to push him to speak, but she could tell he wasn’t happy about something; and now, looking at the poster he was holding up, she could see why.

“The Avatar is in Ba Sing Se. He’s lost his bison.”

Shia frowned, and Iroh snatched the poster away from his nephew.

“We have a chance for a new life here,” Iroh scolded. Zuko looked away to the window, his jaw clenching. “If you start stirring up trouble, we could lose all the good things that are happening for us!”

Zuko’s gaze snapped back to them, fierce and dark and painfully similar to how he had been back when they were on the ship.

“Good things that are happening for you! Have you ever thought that I want more from life than a nice apartment and a job serving tea?!”

Iroh frowned. “There is nothing wrong with a life of peace and prosperity. I suggest you think about what it is that you want from your life, and why.”

Zuko glowered at his uncle. Shia pursed her lips.

“I want my destiny.”

“What that means is up to you.”

Zuko stormed away, and the door to his section of the apartment slid shut as loudly as a paper screen could. Shia got to her feet hesitantly and went to her own room as Iroh returned to brainstorming name ideas for his store.

Shia looked over her small room, with the futon by the window and the small chest of belongings kept carefully in the corner. She couldn’t help but understand Zuko’s plight for a moment; this wasn’t what she wanted for herself. She didn’t know what exactly she wanted, but it wasn’t the life of a tea server living blindly in the middle of a war.

It took a minute for her to force herself to approach the screen wall separating her room and Zuko’s. She couldn’t see his shadow, but she assumed (hoped) that he was willing to listen to her.

“... Zuko?”

A quiet sigh.

“Are you going to say the same thing as Uncle? If you are, I’d suggest you save your breath.”

Shia wondered if all the progress they’d made the previous day had been in her head.

“I’m… not here to tell you what to do, Zuko,” Shia said finally, eyes falling to the floorboards as she shuffled her feet uncomfortably. “You can figure that out yourself. But… if you want to talk, I’m always willing to listen, to try and understand things the way you see them.”

Silence.

And then, in a soft, awkward tone, Zuko spoke.

“... thanks.”

▽

Night had fallen, and with the darkness rose the moon. Patrolling the empty streets was a single Dai Li agent, hat tipped low over his face, hands clad in stone gloves. He moved as though he were gliding across the cobblestone.

What he did not realise was that there was a masked man racing after him. Swathed in black with a sheath hung over his back, a masked man in black shoved past the Dai Li agent.

“Out of my way, skinny!”

He disappeared around the corner into an alleyway. The agent rushed after him and into the alleyway instinctively.

Facing him, at the end of the narrow path, stood a dark silhouette. The agent earth bended one of his stone gloves at the silhouette. Whilst in motion it clenched into a fist, copying the wielders movements, before colliding with the silhouette’s abdomen. The agent hurled his other glove, which broke his opponent’s head clean off.

The mannequin stuffed with straw toppled sideways and fell.

“Huh?”

Behind him the agent heard the whisper of a blade being drawn, and suddenly there was a sword at his throat.

“If you don't want to end up like him, you'll do what I say,” the Blue Spirit rasped.

▽

Deep beneath Lake Laogai, in the recesses of a dark cave with stalactites dripping from the cavernous ceiling and dim green light stretching over the floors, Appa the bison rose from the floor, chains jangling, as the rectangular door to his prison slide open.

A dark silhouette stood out against the light, before the door slid shut and the guise of the Blue Spirit was clear.

“Expecting someone else?”

Appa reeled back and bellowed angrily.

“You’re mine, now.”

Before Zuko could act, a dark shadow dropped from somewhere above and landed on the floor with feline grace. With her dark hair swept back in a long braid and her eyes glinting in the dim light, Shia glanced at the Blue Spirit with a knowing smile on her lips.

Appa quieted instantly.

The door to the cavern slid open once more, and this time Iroh entered. Zuko twisted, and beneath the mask, his expression turned to dismay.

“Uncle? Shia?”

“So, the Blue Spirit,” Iroh began playfully, “I wonder who could be behind that mask…”

Zuko sighed and pulled his mask off.

“What are you two doing here?”

“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” Iroh said tensely, frowning at Zuko disapprovingly. “What do you plan to do now that you've found the Avatar's bison? Keep him locked in our new apartment? Should I go put on a pot of tea for him?”

“First I have to get it out of here.”

“And then what!?” Iroh pointed at Zuko accusingly, “you never think these things through! This is exactly what happened when you captured the Avatar at the North Pole! You had him, and then you had nowhere to go!”

“I would have figured something out!” Zuko gritted.

Iroh was yelling for the first time in a while.

“No! If Shia hadn’t been with you, you would have frozen to death!”

“I know my own destiny, Uncle!”

“Is it your own destiny,” Iroh’s voice fell to a hush, “or is it a destiny someone else has tried to force on you?”

“Stop it, Uncle! I have to do this!”

Zuko turned back to face Shia and Appa, eyebrows furrowed together, biting his lip. She smiled at him tentatively, trying to bury the brief flash of disappointment she’d felt when she realised he’d left.

“I'm begging you, Prince Zuko!” Iroh continued, raising his voice with every word. “It's time for you to look inward and begin asking yourself the big questions. Who are you, and what do you want?”

Silence.

Then, Zuko screamed.

▽

Shia climbed out of the tunnel to the surface just as the sun began to creep over the horizon. The lake stared back at her; dark and foreboding, giving little impression of the caverns hidden beneath. Behind her, Zuko emerged into the dawn, blinking hazily in the light before turning to help Iroh up.

“You did the right thing, nephew,” Iroh said to Zuko, who was cradling the Blue Spirit mask. “Leave it behind.”

Zuko stared at the mask for a brief moment, silent, before stepping to the edge of the lake and tossing it into the water. They watched it sink into the darkness, and Shia offered Zuko a faint smile when he turned back to face her and Iroh.

“It’ll be okay.” 

Chapter Text

▽

❝ I belong to the people I love, and they belong to me—they, and the love and loyalty I give them, form my identity far more than any word or group ever could. ❞

Veronica Roth

▽

THE SKY ABOVE THE TRIO WAS MARBLED PINK, with streaks of golden sunlight illuminating the delicate clouds. Despite the decrepit appearance of the Lower Ring, the air was fresh and cool, and the distant hustle and bustle of the markets grew louder as the sun climbed higher in the sky.

Now that they had returned to the apartment, Shia was able to breathe freely. She'd been on guard throughout the trip back to the Lower Ring, but to her relief, they hadn't encountered any troubles on the return journey from Lake Laogai.

Iroh clicked the front door shut behind them, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled softly. "You did the right thing, letting the Avatar's bison go free."

Zuko had been the first to enter the apartment - practically dragging himself inside - so he was already in the main room by the time Shia and Iroh entered. With his shoulders hunched and his head down, he looked far more like a downtrodden commoner than he did a proud Prince of the Fire Nation. Dangling from his right arm was his sheath, skimming across the floorboards – the sound of it scraping against the floor was what alerted Shia to the fact that something was wrong.

Zuko never slouched.

The usual smile that lingered on Shia's lips thinned as she noticed that Zuko was trembling like a leaf in a storm.

“I…" Zuko spoke in a whisper, his voice low and rasping, "... I don't feel right.”

Within an instant, Zuko fell, knocking a vase over as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Shia flinched when the ceramic shattered, but she ignored the sound and the shards as she dropped her guandao and darted forward to catch him, hooking her arms beneath his armpits to pull his unconscious body away from the mess.

"Zuko!" Iroh was beside them in an instant, worry permeating his features as Shia slowly dropped Zuko to the floor, cradling his head in her lap. His forehead was slick with sweat and flushed with heat. Shia pursed her lips.

“He’s burning up…”

▽

When Zuko regained consciousness, the world was hazy, like the shimmering, shifting heat above a desert horizon. His head felt as though it were stuffed with cotton, and his eyes stung, and his throat ached and his skin burned. He was laying atop a futon, with a quilt pulled over his body — though, to be completely honest, he was barely conscious. He registred the presence of Iroh and Shia to his left; the former sitting, and the latter kneeling beside a container.

“You have an intense fever,” Iroh told him softly. Even so, the sound seemed to reverberate inside Zuko's skull as though Iroh had screamed at him.

Zuko groaned and squeezed his eyes back shut. He could hear the distinctive sound of water dripping, and reopened his eyes eagerly at the thought that he had a chance to cool down. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he realised that the dripping was caused by Shia wringing a damp cloth into the container beside her. She seemed to feel his gaze on her, and her eyes curved in a smile as she turned to face him.

"This should help to cool you down," Shia told him softly, leaning forward to run the cool fabric against his forehead. Zuko would have done it himself if his arms didn't feel like lead. It was as though his muscles had turned to hot, burning liquid — and still, he forced himself to get up.

Shia pulled away, brows furrowed, before she pressed down on his shoulder with her hand. It was clear she hadn't put much force behind it, but the motion was still enough to force Zuko back down.

"You shouldn't be getting up."

Zuko was barely able to speak, and what he did manage to get out was halting and hoarse.

"I'm... so thirsty..."

Iroh turned to a bucket at his side, fishing a ladle out of the cool water inside before sitting Zuko up gently.

“Here's some clean water to drink. Stay under the blankets, and sweat this out.”

Zuko didn’t let Iroh spoon feed him the water for long, and tossed the ladle aside as soon as it was empty. Before his companions could react, he'd snatched the entire bucket away and tipped it back, draining the contents greedily. Excess water spilt over the sides and dripped all over the futon and the floor, though Zuko paid it no heed. As soon as there was nothing left, Zuko tossed the bucket aside, dropping back down tiredly.

Shia exchanged a concerned glance with Iroh, who quickly composed himself and pulled the quilt over Zuko as the prince coughed.

“I’ll take first watch,” Iroh assured Shia, “you're young. You need your rest.”

Shia was reluctant, but her mentor's determined look quickly subdued any protests that she had.

▽

Shia's nightmares were making a reappearance.

She twisted and turned, tangling herself up in her bedsheets, and couldn’t help but groan into her pillow. She’d been trying to sleep for what felt like hours, but it seemed that every time she nodded off, she’d wake up moments later – scared of a dream she didn’t remember having.

It was infuriating.

Finally, sick and tired of her impossibly stubborn dreams, Shia clambered out of bed and out into the cool air of the central room. She could hear Iroh murmuring to Zuko in his room softly, but his voice was too hushed for Shia to hear through the walls.

Perhaps she’d make some herbal tea. She’d bought a few particularly fragrant herbs at the market previously – and thanks to Iroh’s teachings of the past few years, she knew how to brew them perfectly.

▽

After giving Iroh a cup of tea, Shia had forced him to rest. He’d been forcing himself to stay asleep in a sitting position just so that he could stay near Zuko – however sweet the action was, it wasn’t good for his health.

Now she was babysitting Zuko.

Shia poured herself a cup of tea and sipped it thoughtfully, wondering what had triggered Zuko's fever. Iroh had told her that it was the prince’s internal conflict; apparently, freeing Appa was so against Zuko’s perception of himself that it triggered what Iroh called a “metamorphosis”.

Shia thought it was just like Zuko to mentally pick a fight with himself. Still, she was happy for him: once this was over, he'd be a different person. Maybe. Perhaps he'd finally let go of his obsession with his honour.

At the same time, Shia had reached an obstacle. Iroh's words back at the Lake had inspired her to reorient herself.

What did she want?

As lovely as life in the Earth Kingdom was, Shia knew that it wasn't what she wanted for herself. She wanted to learn about herself; she wanted to learn about her origins, her father, and her place in the world.

Was her place beside Iroh and Zuko, or…. was it beside the Avatar? Neither? Both?

Shia was no longer a soldier of the Fire Nation. She was no longer under her family’s control. She could not simply follow Iroh around forever.

He had lived his life – now, it was time for her to live hers.

Whatever her decision was, Shia hoped that her relationship with Iroh and Zuko remained. After so long beside them, she didn't know what a life without them would look like.

In the end, the only thing that held her back was her fear.

Shia was pulled from her thoughts by a soft groan, as Zuko twisted on the futon, breathing growing ragged. She set her teacup down just as he sat up abruptly, swaying as he looked around the room with wild eyes. His gaze eventually came to fall upon her, sitting quietly atop a cushion with a half-empty teacup at her side and her brows knitted together with concern.

“Zuko,” Shia greeted awkwardly. They stared at each other strangely, before she cracked a smile. “Are you feeling any better?”

Zuko sighed and fell back onto his futon, tilting his head to meet her eyes. “A bit.”

Shia leant forward and touched his forehead with the back of her hand, frowning when she noticed the flush dusting his features.

“You still have a bit of a fever,” Shia told him, glancing at the teapot by her side. “Would you like some tea?”

Zuko nodded mutely and sat up, watching as Shia busied herself with pouring another cup of tea before passing it to him. He cupped it in his hands and sighed as he took a sip, grateful for the warmth and the familiar smell of jasmine. His uncle’s favourite. He peered over the brim of the teacup at Shia, who was gazing somberly into the depths of her own drink.

“Why are you still awake?”

Shia looked up at him, and he could tell she was a bit surprised by the question. “You’re unwell, and Iroh would’ve stayed up all night otherwise.”

Zuko nodded quietly, stifling the little spark of joy he’d felt when he’d awoken to her at his side. She’d only been there because she wanted his uncle to rest. Not because she was worried about him or anything like that.

Shia blinked at him, noticing the way his expression had changed ever so slightly.

“Is something wrong?”

Zuko looked away.

“It’s nothing,” he murmured, raising his cup to his lips only to realise it was empty.

“You should rest,” Shia said, taking the cup from him and setting it on the tray beside her. “We’ll be moving to the new apartment tomorrow.”

Zuko parted his lips to reply, but closed them as he noticed her pick the tray up and get to her feet.

“You’re leaving?”

He tried not to sound disappointed.

“I’m just returning the tray to the kitchen,” Shia smiled back at him over her shoulder. He watched her disappear out the door tensely, and a brief moment passed before she slipped back into the room with the door sliding shut quietly behind her.

Zuko laid back under the blanket and watched as Shia retook her position at his side, legs folded beneath her body and a scroll in her lap.

He glanced at it curiously.

“Just some stuff on herbology,” Shia smiled sheepishly when she noticed his gaze. Zuko raised a brow at her, waiting for her to elaborate. “I like reading about new things— but, you should go to sleep.”

Zuko couldn’t help the pout that crept onto his features.

“I’m not a child.”

“Are you sure? You act like one sometimes,” Shia teased light-heartedly, before raising her hands in mock defence when he glowered at her. “I’m joking; but really, you need to sleep, Zuko.”

“Why do you care?” Zuko asked abruptly.

Shia’s brows pulled together, and he could tell she was frowning behind the veil.

“Because you’re my… friend?”

Zuko took a moment to process her words, before a steady heat crept up his neck and filled his face. He pulled the blanket over his head and buried his face in his pillow, words muffled.

“... I’m going to sleep now.”

Shia blinked at him, taken aback by his odd behaviour, before nodding awkwardly even though he couldn’t see her.

“Okay. Goodnight, Zuko.”

“... goodnight.”

It took Zuko a while to calm his heartbeat down enough to fall asleep, but Shia was much the same; face burning as she struggled to focus on the scroll in her hands.

The two of them came to the same conclusion that night, though it was subconscious.

Whatever existed between them… it was a dangerous feeling, and neither of them wanted to risk pursuing it when the cost of failure would be the fragile friendship they’d built. 

Chapter Text

▽

❝ Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened. ❞

Dr. Seuss

▽

ZUKO'S FEVER PERSISTED FOR SEVERAL DAYS, during which time Shia and Iroh shifted to their new apartment in the Upper Ring. Zuko was so delirious that he hadn't protested at all when they bundled him up; barely responding to their touch, and only awakening when he was thirsty. Shia had been torn between fretting over him and assisting Iroh in preparing their new apartment.

The view from their kitchen in the Upper Ring was beautiful, though Shia found her thoughts drifting to the destitute condition of the people who lived beyond the walls. She couldn't help feeling guilty at the thought that she, a person from the Fire Nation, was living so comfortably beneath the Earth Kingdom's protection whilst her people committed heinous acts in the name of the Fire Lord. Shia felt as though her place should have belonged to someone else — someone more deserving of a life in the Upper Ring, where food and shelter were plentiful and the wealthy squandered their money on tea and silk.

Shia didn't know what she wanted for herself, but her subconscious told her that a blissfully ignorant life in the lap of luxury was not it. And yet... neither was the life of a soldier, or a general's pupil, or a tea server.

"You seem a little lost," Iroh mused, glancing at her from the stove with a smile. "What's on your mind?"

Shia recalled how Iroh had reacted to Zuko's dissatisfaction with their lifestyle when they'd been living in that cave. She reminded herself once more of how fortunate she was to be in her position and swallowed her misgivings. She should be grateful for what she had, at the very least. She trusted Iroh more than she did herself, but she couldn't bear the thought of making him worry about her.

"I'm just worried about him."

Iroh chuckled at that, and Shia noticed a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"Of course you are."

What was that supposed to mean? Shia pondered as she watched the tea leaf in her cup while it bobbed up and down. The surface rippled as the door to Zuko's room slid open and shut. Then came the sound of soft footsteps on hardwood, and Zuko's voice breaking the silence.

"What's that smell?"

Shia waited a second before glancing over her shoulder towards the prince. She'd been expecting his gaze to be on Iroh, so she froze like a startled animal when their eyes met. She wasn't entirely sure what she'd been expecting, but it certainly hadn't been a bright, unhesitant smile.

She was so shocked she couldn't even return the gesture.

"It's jook," Iroh explained without missing a beat, stirring the mixture with his ladle. Shia managed to tear her eyes away from Zuko, mustering an awkward smile before remembering it probably didn't show clearly with her mask. "I'm sure you wouldn't like it."

The weight of Zuko's gaze finally left Shia's shoulders as he strode to Iroh's side to sniff the steam wafting from the pot. Iroh shot a look over his shoulder at Shia. He seemed to be saying with his eyes, "Can you believe this?"

Both of them pinched themselves simultaneously, before shooting dumbfounded looks at one another. Before they could say anything about it, Zuko turned to Iroh and they had to act like they hadn't been communicating through their imagined telepathic link.

"It smells delicious. I'd love a bowl, Uncle."

Zuko smiled sweetly, taking two bowls from the stack on the table and holding them out for Iroh to ladle the jook into.

Shia wondered if there was a different soul inhabiting Zuko's body.

"Now that your fever is gone you seem different, somehow..." Iroh trailed off, glancing towards Shia for her input. She was too busy contemplating Zuko's abrupt change to notice.

"It's a new day. We've got a new apartment, new furniture, and today's the grand opening of your new tea shop— right?"

Shia was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't notice Zuko place a steaming bowl of jook in front of her until he'd already taken his own seat. He stared at her.

"Aren't you going to eat, Shia?"

Shia glanced from Zuko to the steaming bowl in front of her, before finally stringing together a sentence.

"You seem happier than usual today."

He grinned at her. She wondered vaguely if this was what people meant when they said they saw another person's face light up. It was not the first time she had seen the prince smiling, but it was the first time she'd seen his eyes gleam that way—it made something in the pit of her stomach twist, but not in a bad way.

"Things are finally looking up."

Iroh's concern cleared up, and a smile spread across his features gradually as he gazed at his nephew. Zuko busied himself with pouring himself tea as Shia watched absentmindedly.

"You're quieter than usual today," Zuko smiled at her over the brim of his teacup, mirroring what she had said earlier. "Something on your mind?"

Shia set her own cup down, looking at the bowl of jook briefly as she attempted to push her treacherous thoughts out of her mind. She forced a smile that barely reached her eyes.

"It's nothing. I'm just glad you're feeling better, we were both worried that your fever would get worse."

"Me too..." Zuko trailed off, eyes locked with hers. He seemed to have something more to say, judging by the way he opened his mouth and closed it several times. "I... wanted to thank you."

Shia tilted her head, her question obvious in her eyes.

"For, uh... looking after me while I was sick and all. Both of you."

He looked down at the table, hair shadowing his face. The tips of his ears were beginning to turn a reddish colour. Shia wondered distantly if the fever was making a comeback.

"It's okay, Zuko. It's what friends do."

Shia resisted the urge to add 'I think' to the end of that statement, not noticing the way Iroh's eyes lit up.

Zuko mumbled something to himself, squirming beneath the gazes of both his companions.

"What was that, nephew?"

"I'll repay you, the next time you're unwell."

Zuko fixed Shia with an indecipherable look. She looked away to her meal before the heat in her face could become visible; the thought of Zuko playing nurse was... endearing, to say the least. She wondered when her image of him had changed so drastically. Just a few weeks ago, he'd been fairly indifferent towards her as she fought a fever of her own...

"I'm grateful for the sentiment," Shia focused on picking up her spoon. "We should eat; we have a long day ahead of us."

"That's right!" Iroh chimed in brightly, "our first day at my tea shop! I can't wait!"

From there on, Shia's day was a blur of sounds and colours as they prepared for the grand opening.

Things were going wonderfully. Life was perfect: she had a 'family', as makeshift as it was, and a good job and a wonderful new home and clothes that were so fine they felt like gossamer on her skin... and yet, Shia wanted something more. She didn't know what was wrong with her. She had everything she'd ever wanted... So why was she still searching?

It frustrated her more than she could put into words, and it must have shown because Iroh had been sending her worried looks in spite of her assurances. Zuko, even with his new change in disposition, was unreadable. Even as Shia tried to focus on preparing tea for the customers streaming into the Jasmine Dragon, she found her gaze following him. She asked herself what it was she wanted, and a tiny part of her consciousness said it was something more.

Who was she? What did she want?

Shia didn't notice the way Zuko's eyes settled on her when he knew she wasn't looking.

Neither of them noticed Katara, her face pale and eyes wide, as she fled from the Jasmine Dragon.

▽

Katara entered the throne room of the Earth Kingdom palace, breathing raggedly, and only paused when she saw the three Kyoshi warriors kneeling in front of the King's throne. Relief overtook her, and the words spilled from her lips before she could get a closer look at them.

"Thank goodness you're here, Suki! Something terrible is going on. The Fire Nation has infiltrated the city — I just saw Prince Zuko and his uncle! We have to tell the Earth King right away!"

Suki stood to face Katara, but her cold gaze burned like molten gold when their eyes met. Katara's breath hitched, and she took a step back.

With the thick makeup of the Kyoshi warriors, it had been difficult to notice the difference, especially when she was so panicked. But this wasn't Suki.

"Oh, don't worry," Azula grinned, a predatory gleam in her eyes. "I'll be sure to let him know."

▽

The first stars of the night had just begun to creep into the sky when the messenger arrived.

"A message from the Royal Palace," the man announced, placing a golden scroll in Iroh's hand before rushing off. Iroh unravelled it as he read the lines of writing, before his eyes widened and a bright smile spread across his lips.

"I... I can't believe it!"

Shia and Zuko both paused in their sweeping to look his way.

"What is it, Uncle?"

"Great news!" Iroh beamed, holding the scroll above his head with a prideful gleam in his eyes. "We've been invited to serve tea to the Earth King!"

Shia arched her brows. So soon? They'd only just opened... for the ruler of a nation at war, the Earth King sure did seem to have a lot of time on his hands.

Before she could say anything, Iroh had already rushed off, his head in the clouds. Shia and Zuko locked eyes briefly before he cracked an awkward grin. Iroh flitted back into the room, practically crackling with energy.

"We have to prepare clothes befitting an audience with the King," Iroh exclaimed, clasping his hands together with a bright grin.

That was how, early the next morning, Shia found herself standing in front of a mirror in the presence of one of the most sought-after tailors in the Earth Kingdom.

"Lovely," the tailor, Mian, brushed an invisible speck of dust off of the robes Shia was wrapped in. "Just lovely."

Shia felt like the contents of a scroll, wrapped in so many layers, and even as she stood in front of the mirror and admired the layers of pale green silk and the gold embroidery, she felt as though something was missing.

As a young girl, she had longed to be like the other young nobles in the Fire Nation, who dressed in beautiful crimson garments and went wherever they pleased. She'd believed she'd be happy if she could be like them, but she knew it wasn't a life for her.

Perhaps she'd been hoping that she would be proven wrong, and that changing her outfit would somehow grant her the ability to fit into the world.

She could get used to this, Shia tried to convince herself. It was only a dress.

It was so much more, though. It wasn't the finery or the job or the apartment. It wasn't the people, either; most of those she had met in Ba Sing Se were wonderful and welcoming (given they had no idea of her heritage).

The problem was her.

Shia didn't fit there; that much she knew. Was that how Zuko felt when he thought of living out the rest of his life in this place? But where else did she belong, if not here? The Fire Nation (or at least, her old home) was the last place she wanted to be. Even if part of her was Water Tribe, she didn't feel she'd be accepted there, either. Especially when there was nobody there to bring her into their fold. As far as she knew, she had no family, and she doubted her affiliations with the Fire Nation would be looked upon kindly either.

"You know, most people light up when they see themselves in such lovely clothes," Mian sighed suddenly, after what felt like an eon of silence. Shia watched her reflection speak in the mirror. "What's on your mind, dear? Is my design not to your liking? I don't mind changing it up."

"Oh, no, not at all," Shia raised her hands when Mian spoke, quick to respond, and then pursed her lips. "Your design is beautiful. I like it a lot. It's just..."

"You find it uncomfortable?"

"No, no... It's a bit heavier than I'm used to, but nothing I can't handle..." Shia glanced at the woman, gauging whether or not it would be improper to say anything more. "... I just feel a bit lost, is all. Your dress is lovely, and I'm grateful you went through the pains of adjusting it for me."

Mian stared at her quietly, with the kind of knowing gaze all elders seemed to have in common. It reminded Shia of Iroh.

"Sit down, sweetheart."

Shia wouldn't argue with a woman wielding scissors. She dropped to the small cushioned stool in front of the mirror obediently, watching Mian's reflection in the mirror as she placed her scissors down on the table and began to fiddle with the braid lying against Shia's back.

"Such lovely hair," Mian said off-handedly, and she fell into a brief silence as she focused on unbraiding the plait. She raised her eyes to meet Shia's in the mirror. "Reminds me of mine when I was your age. You should leave it down with this dress; I even have some ornaments that match the gown's details! I'm sure your family will be speechless once they see you!"

Family?

At some point, the term had come to sound natural. Yes, Iroh and Zuko were like family to her—or at least, what she imagined family would be like.

Iroh meant everything to her, and what he had said to her back in their old apartment—that he saw her as his own child—had soothed an old wound which she thought had long scarred over. Yet despite everything they had been through, and what he said, nothing would change the fact that she was fundamentally an outsider. Shia felt incredibly lost as she came to that realisation.

When had anyone she had come to see as family actually stayed in her life?

It was uncharacteristic of her to be feeling so negative, and Shia had a feeling that she could very well have been sabotaging what little good there was in her life with her incessant anxieties. Pushing her worries to the back of her mind, she tried to focus on Mian's words as the woman continued to chatter away and twist strands of Shia's hair away from her face. She talked about her days as an apprentice designer and the charity she'd established herself and oh you remind me so much of myself, darling! So cute! So lovely! Everyone at the palace will have their eyes on you if you go there looking like this!

Shia smiled and thought to herself that she had been fortunate to meet so many good people throughout her travels, however temporary her time with them may have been. Mian pinched her cheek affectionately when she was done and stepped back to admire her handiwork.

"All done! Just as I thought, you look wonderful!" Mian sighed and tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Though I must admit, it'd be nice to see all of your face... worry not, though, dear! If you'd like I can try making a little something for you with the leftover fabric; then your veil will match your dress! Very mysterious and alluring, I'm sure it'd start a new trend!"

For a moment, Shia considered taking Mian up on her offer. She rubbed the thin fabric of her veil between her fingers, deep in thought, as Mian watched knowingly.

"I'll go check on your companions... Do come out when you feel ready!"

With that and a smile, she was gone. Shia slowly rose from her stool to return to the mirror.

She looked the same as she always did. The same eyes as her mother, the colour of burnished gold—the same hair, too, black like a moonless sky. Had she only inherited her complexion from her father, or was there more? What else of his had she inherited? His temperament? His habits? What would he think of her if he were alive?

Shia could only see her mother in the mirror, but the longer she looked, the more differences she could find. Her mother's eyes held no light. Her face was always a picturesque, blank slate; like a portrait in a grand hall, apathetic and unfeeling. Her presence alone was suffocating—much like that of her father, Shia's grandfather.

Shia's mother's hair was straight and fell around her face like a waterfall, not a single strand in disarray. Shia's hair was wavy, with a slight frizziness that she'd never learnt to manage. She wondered if her hair type was more common in her father's homeland. If she had been raised, would she have learnt how to tame it?

Shia grimaced at the thought and pushed it away as best as she could, focusing instead on the pretty fabric and the glittering flower-shaped hair ornaments. There was no point in reminiscing about a life that would never be hers.

Turning away from the mirror, she tore the veil from her face and tossed it onto the table.

▽

Iroh saw Shia first, looking up from where Mian was fussing over the drape of Zuko's robes to beam at his apprentice. His eyes grew larger when he saw her before they began to glimmer.

"Ah, my lovely girl, you look radiant!"

"Thank you..." She fidgeted with the fabric hanging over her wrists, offering Iroh a shy smile. After spending so long listening to Iroh butter up the people they encountered on their journey, she'd come to understand the basics of complimenting others. "The colour Mian chose suits you very well. You look even more charming than you usually do."

Iroh's grin only widened as he patted her arm affectionately, his attention shifting back to Zuko (who'd finally shuffled out from behind the dividing screen in his own attire, a set of dark brown and gold embroidered robes). Shia suddenly wished she could cover her face again as a burning sensation began to creep up her neck.

Embarrassment?

Anxiety?

Whatever it was, it only seemed to swell up high enough to swallow her whole when their eyes met.

Shia's mouth went dry as she tried to think up something to say that wouldn't make her want to shrivel up and become one with the soil. Why could she compliment Iroh but not Zuko?

"Ah, Mian, you've outdone yourself! The rumours of your skill are nothing like the real thing," Iroh grinned at Mian, who fluttered her eyelashes back at him.

"How could I not? The three of you make the perfect models."

Shia and Zuko shared weary looks as Iroh continued to flirt with Mian, who was more than happy to reciprocate. Zuko skirted around the two to approach Shia.

"Do you wanna go wait for these two in the waiting room?" Zuko rubbed the back of his neck, making a point not to look towards his uncle or the designer. "I might just throw up all over these clothes if I have to listen to this any longer."

The awkwardness Shia had been feeling evaporated immediately as a laugh bubbled up from deep within her chest.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

Zuko smiled before the two excused themselves and began the short walk down the hallway to the front room of the boutique. For once, Shia worked up the courage to initiate a conversation. She focused on walking, eyes glued to the floorboards, as she spoke.

"So, uh... those clothes suit you..."

Zuko halted. "Really?"

"Yeah. You look really nice." Shia paused and looked back at him, wondering why he'd stopped so abruptly. Had she said the wrong thing? "Your fever hasn't come back, has it?"

"No? Why?"

"Your ears look kind of red..."

The flush quickly spread to the rest of Zuko's face as he cupped his hands over his ears. "No they don't!"

The look on his face was enough to make Shia laugh again, and this time she struggled to stop. Whenever she looked up again Zuko was standing there, beet red, hands cupped over his ears with a sullen look on his face.

"You seem to really like laughing at me."

Shia smiled at him. She was fond of their more mundane conversations.

"I can't help it. You're very entertaining."

Maybe she was a little fond of him, too.

Zuko pressed his lips together thinly and looked away, the red still prominent on his skin.

"I... think your clothes suit you, too. You look nice. Really nice. Especially with the, uh..." he gestured to her hair, "...flowers and all."

Shia blinked. Once. Twice.

"... really?"

"Yeah."

Zuko had never thought that the way a person wore different emotions on their face could be so interesting. But he couldn't help but notice her scar—the way it engulfed the side of her neck, the way a tendril of pinkish scar tissue snaked across her jaw and curved up and over her cheek. It looked... intentional, almost.

She had said it was a punishment from her grandfather.

Zuko wanted to believe she was in a situation like his own... but was that not the case? Perhaps, unlike his father, her grandfather was truly a bad person?

The long pause made Shia, on the other hand, very uncomfortable. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She closed it, then opened it again, before repeating the process several times like a confused fish. The heat searing her face clouded her mind. Suddenly, she felt very compelled to look away from him. When had he last said something like this?

Back when they'd gone on that walk and stopped for lunch at the turtle duck pond. What was it he'd said then?

"You look good, though," Zuko said plainly, before realising what his words entailed and turning a furious crimson. "Like, uh... I think you look nice, but not in a weird way or anything. Just, uh... ugh, I'll shut up now."

He'd been blushing then, and he was blushing now.

She didn't know what she was thinking when she spoke, eyes probing him curiously. Perhaps even a little eagerly.

"You don't mean that in a weird way?"

Zuko's face had grown to resemble the signature red of the Fire Nation, but his expression—his warm gaze—felt rather sincere. He had nice eyes. She'd never looked at them for this long. Or at least, if she had, she hadn't been this aware of it.

Zuko's voice sounded strained and awfully quiet in the silent hallway.

"I think I might mean it in a weird way."

They both looked at each other wordlessly, unsure of what to say.

"What is a weird way?"

Zuko's nose wrinkled, and he seemed the slightest bit frustrated.

"Whatever this—" he gestured to the space between them, "—is."

"I'm confused," Shia whispered, as she followed Zuko's gaze down to the three floorboards that separated them. At some point, she'd simply gotten used to their (as Zuko would put it) weird relationship. The banished prince and his uncle's apprentice. A royal and an illegitimate noble, a girl who wouldn't even be a footnote in history.

"I am, too."

He was closer now, Shia realised. There was only one floorboard between them. When she looked up from the floor, their faces were close enough that they would touch noses if she leaned forward a little. She liked the idea more than she should have, and that dark suspicion crept back into her thoughts like a predator catching the scent of weakness.

Was what she felt for Zuko really as simple as friendship, or was there more to it?

Shia didn't want to explore the thought any further.

She was afraid of what she'd learn.

Zuko, on the other hand, found some semblance of an answer to his questions in the way his heart beat faster at the sight of her gentle face, so close to his. It filled him with both relief and dread.

"... I think—"

"Hey, you two! We've got to get going or we'll be late!"

Shia looked away, and Zuko found himself feeling both grateful and frustrated.