Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There had never been uncertainty.

There was a dream, a promise of victory. There was a crown, symbol of invincibility. Best resources, best army, best general. To think that the Royal family was above the fatality of war, untouched, was arrogance at the very least, eventually proven a huge mistake. And so the price was paid.

After six hundreds day of siege, with only a few dedicated to actual battles, the camp now celebrated a victory like any other they'd had so far, this time much closer to the inner wall. Tsungi horn and flute filled the air with more than the remaining smoke and dust from their last attack. Iroh realized now that the music wasn't to pay respect to the dead, because those were honored silently and alone, along with the thoughts of distant loved ones when it didn't seem possible to fall sleep. Even in its mournful garment, the melody brought hope and comfort instead of pain and despair, celebrating the remaining lives, and the gift to live another day. However, far from being a disrespectful act, it was simply human nature; after all, music was a blessing to ears filled with the sound of swords clashing, rocks smashing and flesh burning. And Iroh could understand.

The previous night had given the soldiers a concrete meaning to their mission, because only in victory could a soldier truly understand what they were meant to fight for. It wasn't for the glory, their lives, their Nation, or even the final goal. It was simply for those victories, one at a time, which reminded them that they weren’t there to survive as individuals, but to win as a group. On the other hand, the Royal family was not like ordinary soldiers. They fought for the triumph, and for them, a return was guaranteed. The alternative was quickly buried in the back of the mind whenever it showed up, masked by the greatness of their lineage, and the concept of sacrifice existed only in the rehearsed speeches presented to those who were truly required to sacrifice.

As Iroh could see now, that was no less an illusion than what the soldiers bellow him were led to believe. They were all the same, the flowing blood, the echoing screams and the hurting losses. And his loss paralyzed him now, body and soul, both unable to move forward. Better than ever before, he understood the role of a General. He was supposed to further encourage the spirits of sacrifice and to make them all believe that the losses on the way were worth it, and that home, peace, family were right around the corner as long as they gave all they had in the next battle. But how could he ever have thought that victory could make up for even a single life? No, not even a city as grand as Ba Sing Se could fill the emptiness left inside of him, and Iroh simply couldn't bring himself to keep that illusion alive in each and every soldier's heart.

And that's why, when he joined his subordinates on the tent for the post-battle meeting, Iroh simply said:

— The siege is over. We're marching back to the Fire Nation.

*~*~*~*~*

Iroh watched as his troops departed without a general to lead them. He should be feeling ashamed for giving up, or maybe guilty, but the pain left space for nothing else. Perhaps there was no meaning to his dream after all, and his family’s war had no reason to be.

He looked at the impenetrable city one last time. Behind those walls rested Lu Ten’s body, waiting to meet his father again at the end of the day, as promised. Their last goodbye had been a happy one. Iroh knew his soldier boy would've preferred it that way, but for his own tortured mind, now picturing a hundred possible scenarios of Lu Ten's last breath, that simply wasn't enough.

It's time that I need, Iroh convinced himself. The life of a general, of royalty, wasn't something he could put up with at the moment. This war, somehow, didn't feel like his war anymore. How could he return to his family if not to stand by their side? Sooner or later, you'll have to take a stand on this war. Not yet. He had to handle his own battle against grief and sorrow first. So instead, he decided to visit old friends around world.

In the next months, Iroh was thankful for being welcomed and comforted by so many kind, inspiring friends. They shared conversations, wisdom and tea, until the news about the recent events and tragedies in the Fire Nation found Iroh's ears. Even if discreetly and respectfully, Iroh found the White Lotus men claiming his birthright and pointing all the good things he could make happen as a crowned ruler. Yet, politics was not something he could bring himself to be concerned about. Now more than ever, what he needed was family.

And with that he set himself for another trip, this time away from the world. He had to try. One more chance of seeing Lu Ten again, and saying a ultimate goodbye.

His son wasn't there, though. The spirit realm, in all its wonders, couldn't give him the thing he wanted most. On the other hand, it had given Iroh wisdom and strength to finally move forward. He'd entered the spirit world with the mission to find his family, and he'd realized he still had a family. One that was now even more broken and twisted than before, but that was still around and was the closest thing to make him feel complete again. Therefore, it was time to stop seeking for the part of it that he could no longer reach.

*~*~*~*~*

The Fire Lord stood magnificently behind the fire wall when Iroh entered the throne room. They both exchanged greetings and proper formalities.

— Well, I'm sorry about Lu Ten, he was a promising young men. — "unlike Zuko" is what Iroh heard in Ozai's dryly spoken words. Iroh nodded, and the Fire Lord proceeded right after. — I hope your trip helped you... deal with your loss. However, I suppose you've heard about father and Ursa at some point during your journey?

— Yes, the news about a new Fire Lord inevitably run around the world. You have my sympathies, brother. Both father and Ursa, all so close together... And she was such a young, healthy woman. What happened, exactly?

— Oh, it all happened so fast, Iroh, from night to day. Father passed away in his sleep the day after we received the news about Lu Ten, and Ursa... — Ozai hesitated for a split second — She's gone now. You should have seen father that day, Iroh. — he changed the subject right away. — He was still so full of life. The shock might have affected him.

— I suppose it was hard for you, too, to handle all this and take care of the kids while in charge of our great Fire Nation.

— We do what we have to do, Iroh, there isn't time for sentimentalism. That's probably the reason father gave me the throne as his dying wish, he must've noticed you wouldn't have the guts for the job when you abandoned the siege. After all, the Fire Nation needs a strong leader who can hold it together in the hardest times.

— Oh, I agree. I've come to realize that, when it comes to father's legacy, you are just the right person to carry on with it, not me. — not Zuko, either, Iroh thought.

— You've always been a very understanding person, my brother, I knew you'd recognize this was for the best. — Ozai smiled briefly.

What Iroh had heard was nothing more specific than the deaths and the throne going to Ozai, and apparently that's all the information he was going to get now. Yes, he could understand his father's shift in ideas after he abandoned the siege. The Dragon of the West was now a disgrace, and Iroh could accept that. However, something about his father's respect for him and Lu Ten, and Ozai's words, and the sequence of events... No, how could he take any conclusions if he hasn't been there when it happened? He couldn't go back in time and avoid all the tragedies fallen upon his family, and looking into them now would only open a tender wound. Yet, you can't run forever. You must take a stand in this war.

— What about the children? Where are they? I can't wait to see them again. — Iroh suddenly felt eager to leave that chamber, as well as his brother's company.

— Hum, at this time they may be coming back from training. I think you may still find them on the garden, if the sun isn't unbearable today.

How often his brother was even going outside, Iroh wondered. It reminded him of the days when their father would only see the sunlight through the window, either during the meals or when in his room. That made Iroh feel thankful for not being the Fire Lord now.

— I'll give it a try then! Such a wonderful place. If you'll excuse me, Fire Lord. — the old man bowed before leaving and Ozai nodded in response.

Iroh walked to the Palace Garden feeling the breeze of a warm day and looking around to everything that remained just the same as when he'd left. Even the kid's training sessions were in the same hours and in the same place. An emptiness followed him everywhere, though. The Royal Palace was a huge place and it was very common for one to walk many hallways without spotting anyone, but this was a different feeling. It was an acknowledgment of the ones that should be there.

His niece and nephew were easy to spot, both wearing red in a sea of green. The kids weren't training anymore, but resting under a tree, and they weren't able to notice Iroh's presence until he walked past the fountain and the leaves on the floor denounced his footsteps approaching the turtleduck pond.

— Uncle Iroh! — Zuko shouted from a distance, before he stared to run in Iroh's direction.

The boy gave him a big hug that made it clear how glad he was to have a piece of his family back home. There was a hug Iroh would never have again, but even so, he could still find arms eager to embrace him, and feel the warmth and tenderness flowing from them. It wasn't the same and it would likely never be, but it was something he had and he would make sure to never underestimate the value of it.

— Well, hello! It’s been over a year I don’t see the two of you, isn’t it? You’ve grown! Are you coming for a hug, Azula?

She simply gave him a look of despise, but Zuko quickly took charge of filling her silence.

— I missed you, uncle. — he said softly and bowed to his elder.

— Did you enjoy the gifts I sent you both? They were supposed to be a reminder of me.

— I would've preferred a visit to Ba Sing Se after it’s fall, actually. — the princess replied.

— Shut up, Azula. — Zuko demanded, annoyed.

Among the weapons and other gifts that Iroh could’ve sent to his niece, he'd chosen a doll. He knew the girl would take that as an insult, but he wanted to believe that the child could see what she was missing. Iroh was there while Azula was growing up, and he knew she had never had a proper childhood. Firebending at the age 4, the only life the girl remembered revolved around training, improving and learning how to be the best in everything she did. Azula was comfortable with that, but only because her goals filled enough of her time so that she cultivated no other interest.

— I still play with the dagger you gave me, uncle! Thank you. — the boy added, giving Iroh a tiny smile that seemed to be trying to compensate for his sister’s lack of tact.

— It’s a combat artifact, it’s not meant to be played with. — Azula remarked, as if suggesting that she would’ve known better how to treat the gift.

— He gave it to me, so I decide what to do with it. — the boy replied triumphantly. — And I’m pretty good at it, uncle!

Iroh spotted a hint of pride in his confident voice, and smiled.

— Oh, really? I’d be pleased to see that someday, then.

Never give up without a fight, Iroh recalled. The Earth Kingdom general who chose those words for the inscription had surrendered the battle. Then Iroh, on the way to victory, gave up on the siege. But Zuko’s eyes spoke a different language. When the old man sent his nephew the dagger, he'd hoped the boy would find inspiration in those words and seek his true potential. A year later, he could see Zuko was still a young spirit, full of life and dreams, despite the pain of the losses they both shared.

And right there, as he stood in front of the eleven year-old, Iroh understood why his heart had been calling him back to the Royal Palace. If not for yourself, Lu Ten, the Fire Nation, do it for him, Iroh thought. You need to take a stand, he repeated in his mind, and suddenly he knew that, by fighting for Zuko, he would be fighting for the world.

Chapter Text

The sand was warm beneath their feet and the air was filled with the salty smell and the flowy sound of the waves. The tiny girl ran as fast as her chubby legs managed to, gasping for air, but determined not to give up. Despite their zigzagging and eventual pauses, Azula’s persistence had driven them far away from the beach house, and a wall of rocks signalized the end of their marathon. Or so Zuko thought. Instead, his sister ran to the water, and quickly the four year-old was immerged up to her waist.

— Hey, what are you doing? The water doesn’t count! — Zuko stopped abruptly and waited for her to come back.

— We never said that! — was Azula’s response while she threw herself against the waves and started swimming towards the house with her head above the water.

— Azula, come back! — the boy shouted running to the sea. — You’re not that good at swimming yet. The game’s over.

— Not until you tag me. — she teased her brother, running back to the sand as soon as the distance between them shortened.

— I would have already if I wanted to. It’s not fun if I catch you right away! — his legs were much longer and faster than hers, and he usually had to take it easy both running away from Azula and chasing her, although her determination and efforts to win got him full speed every once in a while.

And that was one of those times, he realized. Her plan to call him to the sea gave her a considerable advantage.

— Would you, really? — he couldn’t see her face as she said that, but he could hear her loud, exhausted laughter. — Let’s see if that… Ouch!

Once again, Zuko stopped on his tracks, this time wondering if she was trying to fool him again as she fell on the ground. However, the sight of blood on her foot got him hurried to help. When Azula saw her brother coming at her, she tried to get up and escape, but all she did was fall again and groan.

Zuko joined her and advanced his hand to her heel in order to see the damage, but she was still trying to avoid his victory.

— Don’t! — she shouted, and with her palms directed to him and her wrists together, a small flame emerged from her hands, dancing in tons of orange towards his face.

Zuko fell on his back, terrified for a second. He couldn’t understand why she had to be so fierce about a stupid game every time.

— We’re not playing anymore, just let me help! — he informed, only now realizing what had just happened.

— Are you ok? — she was as startled as Zuko felt at the moment.

— Yeah. Did you just…?

— I firebended. — her shocked expression was replaced by a grin. — Zuzu, I’ve started to firebend!

— You really did! — he smiled at her. — Azula, that’s awesome! But wait, you’re hurt…

— Who cares, it’ll be fine. — it was like the discovery of her power made her instantly feel invincible, or, at least, braver.

— But it’s bleeding, I’ll carry you back. — he could see now the rock responsible for the injury on his sister’s left foot laying down between them.

— Let me try again. — she ignored his words completely. — Watch this. — she repeated the move, but nothing came out. — It’s not working. — she tried again, unsuccessfully, and he watched her smile disappear. — Why?

— Maybe because you’ve only started. Don’t worry about that.

— But I wanna show mommy and daddy.

— I’m your witness, let’s go tell them.

— I wanna show them. — she insisted, her stubbornness showing, as well as her disappointment.

— You're a firebender, that’s what matters!

But those words came out harsher than he expected. He never doubted Azula would be a bender, and he felt happy for her and eager to celebrate. On the other hand, he couldn’t help but feel that it should have been him, he should be the first one. He was already six, and his father once said that in the Royal family firebending manifested at age five, it was in their blood, and that meant it might be too late for Zuko. Azula, however, had just broken that pattern, so maybe he could still keep hope.

— You’ll be one, too — she seemed to read his mind. — I’m know you will, very soon, and we’ll get to play something other than tag. — his little sister’s smile comforted Zuko’s heart.

He would. He had to. He just had to wait for his turn, that was all.

Even years after that day, as he was sitting at the entry of their beach house and Azula was coming from the coast, Zuko was still waiting. He’d become a firebender, conquered his honor, returned as a hero. And he was in a completely different position than he thought he would be.

— I thought I would find you here.

— Those summers we spent here seem so long ago. So much has changed.

Why did he ever think, in those three years he was away, that it was to a long lost past that he’d be returning to?

— Come down to the beach with me. Come on, this place is depressing.

It was time for him to learn that all Azula had been doing was playing him, from the moment she offered him a chance to come home. She had ulterior motives for everything she did, and she had been watching him closely for a long time. Even so, he could remember clearly those old days, when they didn’t have to compete, or accomplish tasks, or buy some love. And it seemed like she was the only one who was still there, now that their mother was gone, and uncle Iroh refused to talk to him, and their father seemed barely aware of Zuko’s presence, and even Mai had just given up on him. His relationship to Azula would never be the same again, but for now, he still had her around, and that had to be enough.

Chapter Text

Dear mom,

I was banished.
I betrayed our country.
I have no honor.
I’ve let you down, too.
Sometimes I wonder what you would have done if you were there.
Would you hold me on the ground, in front of everyone, and tell me that I was a fighter and you would love to see me fight?
Probably not. Because I let you down, too. Sorry that I didn’t fight then like you’d expect of me, but I’ll fight now to fix my mistakes. And to go back home.
Everything has changed but I won’t forget who I am. And that means that there’s no place for me outside the Fire Nation.

Love, Zuko.

He put the scroll down and thought of how much of it was true. How was he going to move on, how was he going to fight, when all he felt was an overwhelming pain of the distance? He needed another letter.

Father, sir,

I know you don’t want a letter from me. You are waiting for the Avatar, and for an honorable son, worthy of your legacy. I can wait, too. I don’t want to, I want to be home now. But you don’t want me to complain, either. It hurts as much as I deserve, and I can take it.
The crew doesn’t seem to believe in me, they don’t even believe the Avatar is out there. Even uncle stays in my way, saying that I need to rest and recover. But you believed in me, when you gave me a second chance. I won’t waste it.
I tell you the kid who cried and backed off from the Agni Kai is now gone for good. I can take the challenge this time and I can make you proud. I can be a man.

Yours, Zuko.

But that was a lie too, considering the tears now falling down his right cheek. He decided to write so he could be honest with himself and the letters became something else entirely. A compromise. Promises.

Azula,

When I’m back you won’t have father’s praise all for yourself anymore. I just need a bit of it. I actually miss you, but I don't think you care, and I'm sure you're fine, as always.

Zuko.

He stared at the paper and concluded there was nothing else he wanted to write on that one. He loved his sister, and he admired her immensely. She was everything he was meant to be, he craved to be, and Zuko had learned to be happy for her accomplishments and wait for his turn. Which would never come. Pushing his jealousy away became much harder once his mother was gone.
His mind was flowing differently now, he realized. Just one more letter.

Hi, Mai.

I hate writing. I hope you don’t hate reading.
I didn’t initially plan to write to you. But you’ve been in my mind, so I guess I care about you deeply. Maybe it is love, although from my experience I wouldn’t know how love manifests itself. Mom loved me, but she said goodbye (I never told this anyone, but she did). Father loves me, but he hurt me in order to make me better. Uncle loves me enough to come with me, but he insists in delaying my mission. What is love? Which one is?
I think you'd reject me too if you saw me now. You'd be disgusted of my disfigured face and my disgraced hair and my dishonorable being. You’d rather stay away from me, I assure you. Apart, as we are.
I guess know why I'm writing you. You'd just say that these are all stupid thoughts, wouldn't you? Of course no one has given up on me yet, or else, what would I be going back to, what's the point?
That's why I'll burn all these letters, and focus on my mission. I'll look for the Avatar in every corner of every place, and I'll train all I can to defeat him and return. Send hi to Ty Lee for me, ok?
Thank you,

Zuko.

He rubbed his teary eye and wiped his cheek. That’s it, all of it, he thought, gathering the letters to burn. Forget and start over. But first, leave that damn room for some fresh air. Zuko rolled the letters together and put them in his robes. A walk on the deck wouldn't be a bad ideia, now that everybody would be sleeping.

Or so he thought.

He left the room to the darkness outside, and created a small flame on his hand to help guide the way. He was getting to the deck when he heard voices laughing in the direction of the kitchen. Why would the crew still be awake at that time? Didn’t they work early in the morning? Curious, he went to the kitchen.

There were three man sitting in a circle and drinking, and they all stopped and turned to him when he entered.

— Prince Zuko? — Lieutenant Jee was surprised. — Do you like to eavesdrop? — he dared say.

— Not my fault you were making a lot of noise as I was passing by.

— Are you having a hard time to sleep, prince? — why did he sound almost… like he cared?

— No. Don’t you have to work by sunrise?

— We’re not drinking enough to feel it in the morning, we’ll work just fine. Would you like to take a sit and drink with us? Tell me, have you ever drank before?

The other men exchanged alarmed looks.

— I've tasted it. It's weird, I don't see why.

But as all four of them laughed loudly he realized that he probably sounded like a child.

— Why? For many reasons, prince. — said the cook.

— For once, we drink to gather with friends. — said the guard.

— To feel stronger and braver and lighter. — added the cook.

— Lighter, indeed. To leave the problems behind, to focus away from the pain and the heartbreaks.

— Yeah, it can be a great medicine. — laughed the cook.

Medicine, huh? Zuko wondered why uncle had never offered him that. — I’ll take — he grabbed a mug, which Jee filled with sake, as stated on the bottle.

— It’s your turn, Azawa. What have you left behind to join our group of misfits? — asked Jee.

Azawa, one of the guards. Zuko repeated in his head while downing a large gulp from his drink. He realized now that he’d barely bothered learning the names of the people in his crew yet.

— Not much, really. There was this baby I had with a woman.

— You have a child? — the cook was shocked.

Zuko proceeded to finish his sake, despising the taste of it.

— Well, you can say I helped make one. We just had one night, and when she told me about the pregnancy, she made it clear that marriage or even money were out of question for her.

— She didn’t want money? — the cook interrupted.

Distracted by the conversation, no one noticed when Zuko poured himself some rum.

— She didn’t love me and refused to engage, but above all, she didn’t want the kid to grow up to be a soldier influenced by the father. Ha! I don’t really think I’d be a good influence, but I think about the kid sometimes.

Zuko coughed halfway through the drink. It was too strong, but he was determined to see it work.

— Already on the rum, prince? Go easy on that one. — Jee warned, but Zuko wasn’t sure what “easy” meant, after all, he was sure he needed a high dose of that “healing power”.

— The woman’s smart. The Capital is a good place to live and you can go by unnoticed with a comfortable, peaceful life if you don’t aspire glory or status. — the cook said, and Zuko still didn’t know his name.

— Yeah, but she’s also bold. Most people act like joining in the army and fighting for your Nation is one of the best things that could happen to a family. — replied Azawa.

— And what exactly is wrong with that? — Zuko joined the talk, feeling incredibly agitated after all the alcohol he’d had, but still not “lighter”.

— The fact that when a soldier die nobody really cares, the nation doesn’t care, he’s just another one in a pile of dead bodies. — the cook answered.

— Is that so?

He knew it was true. It was the very reason he found himself banished right now. Because he cared when he wasn't supposed to. When nobody did. Why wasn't the alcohol helping him leave that behind?

— One more. – Zuko ordered.

— You’ve had enough of it. — the Lieutenant said.

— Not yet. Fill it up. — he wasn't feeling better as promised, in fact, he was feeling sick of his stomach and heavy in his heart.

— No. It doesn’t work like that.

— You're the one who invited me. You don’t get to boss me around, you’re not my father. And he isn’t here, is he? He doesn’t care how much I drink.

Or anything, in fact. Until he filled his mission, Zuko was nothing, not even worthy of sharing the same territory with him. Those thoughts shouldn’t be there. But they would disappear at any moment now, right? Maybe he just needed some more.

— Another one.

Lieutenant Jee filled his mug with a dose of sake and Zuko prompted to gulp it.

— There isn’t any more. — the man informed before the prince had the chance to ask.

— I saw the bottle. You’re lying to me all along, weren’t yah? Lied that this’d be enough, lied that yah don’t have any. And when’s the part I forget?

— You’ve had too much. Don’t worry, the blame is on me. — he informed the other man. — You’re a kid, your organism…

— I’m thirteen, teen, not a kid! Kids don’t get thrown at the sea in a war mission! I’m not staying with yah liars anymore, go all to your cabins!

— Prince… — the Lieutenant began.

— Go! — he felt like he was about to set the place on fire, that was just wrong.

— Yes, prince. — they all replied, almost in unison, and quickly walked themselves out.

Zuko stood up right after they were gone and walked to the deck, feeling a bit dizzy. He approached the edge of the ship and took out the letters to give a final look at them. Nobody there cared. Perhaps his mother was alive somewhere, happy, and Azula would be making father proud, and Mai simply didn't care about anything, and his father had abandoned him to his luck. That was the truth, that was the unbearable pain eating him from the inside, even more present now than when he was sober.

His mission consisted of something his great-grandfather had tried until the end of his life in the past, and that was almost a hundred years ago. Was it remotely possible? If yes, how long would it take? The only certainty he had was that his father didn’t care. If it took him a lifetime, his sister would be there to get the throne, if it required him to sacrifice everything, it didn’t matter, if he drank, if it hurt, if he lived or died. Why proceed, then?

He set the letters on fire and watched the flames battle the wind. Fire versus air, that was the final battle. Wind was invisible and could only be predicted by studying the opponent’s movements. Zuko wanted to try, so he climbed the edge of the ship and challenged the wind. Then, he heard a noise on the door, somebody was about to come out. He looked at the papers on his hand, eaten by fire, and the flames reduced by the wind. It was time to let go.

*~*~*~*

Iroh woke up with the sound of a knock at his cabin. He’d always been a heavy sleeper, however, he was surprised at how easily he’d been waking up every night on the ship. Ever since he began to notice that Zuko himself wasn’t sleeping well, Iroh had been snapped out of his sleep a few times in the middle of the night with screams coming from the boy’s room. Every time he’d walked to the cabin just to find the door closed and hear the boy respond with “go away, let me sleep”.

That’s why he hoped, but didn’t really expect, to find the Prince on the other side when he opened the door. Instead, the flame on his hand revealed Lieutenant Jee’s concerned face, and the man prompted to speak before Iroh could even say anything:

— General Iroh, I apologize for waking you up, but Prince Zuko is drunk, very drunk, and I think you should check out on him.

— Drunk? — it was all he could say before the man started talking again.

— It was my fault, and I take full responsibility for it, however, I suggest we skip the details for now. I believe he went to the deck, sir. — the rush in his voice was alarming.

— Thank you, Lieutenant, we’ll talk about it tomorrow first thing in the morning. Have a good night.

— Good night, sir. — he bowed his head and left.

Iroh hurried to the deck, and the cold wind of the sea hit his robes along with a light rain as he opened the door to find the boy standing on the edge of the ship, kicking the air with a whoosh of fire.

— Prince Zuko. — he controlled his voice to a calm, low sound, in order not to scare the boy.

Zuko looked over his shoulder abruptly and almost lost his balance. Iroh’s heart skipped a beat.

— Leave. — the prince said roughly.

— Are you practicing some moves? Come down, I can practice with you. — Iroh tried, and now every second felt like a lifetime.

— Alone. Leave. You can’t watch me duel, can you? You looked away. Azula told me. So stay away. — the drunken words were tripping on one another but his voice was firm.

It was true, and it was something Iroh regretted deeply. Looking away didn't spare him from anything, the anger nor the sadness and definitely not the feeling of powerlessness. And now he knew that his nephew was aware of his cowardice, so how could he expect the boy to trust him?

— Who are you dueling against?

Panic began to rise in Iroh’s chest once he realized he didn’t know what to do. How would he approach the boy, convince his confused mind to get out of here? He needed the right words, the right tone, the right rhythm as he broke the distance between himself and his nephew. He was dealing with a broken heart.

— Who? — Zuko laughed loudly, but it came out hollow. — And I’m the drunk one! There’s no one here, you old fool! Just the wind.

Piandao was right when he said that the Prince had great physical balance, because so far he’d managed to stay up despite all his stumbles. However, his lack of attention, his impulsivity, always clouded that strength, which was now being threatened by the alcohol, the strong wind and the rain.

— This is dangerous, Prince Zuko. Come down. — he said, unable to hold his fear any longer.

— It's just wind, aimless air! — another whoosh of fire came from the boy’s hand, and once again he fought to keep balance. — The Avatar is the real threat, a master. But I’m training and I’ll defeat him. Or the wind will defeat me, right here and now. If I lose, it’s all over, even the pain.

Iroh stopped in shock at his nephew’s words. He was wrong. Zuko knew.

— Why won’t you just leave… — it was all the boy said before his foot slipped from the wet edge of the ship.

Iroh jumped the couple of steps left to reach his nephew and grabbed him by his wrist. Zuko clashed against the metal hull of the ship, gasping in pain. The man offered the other hand to the kid, who looked at him in horror, then began to sob. Iroh, however, was equally horrified. His reasoning was gone the moment he saw the possibility of losing Zuko, and as he held the boy back in his arms, he saw himself desperate on the floor.

— What were you thinking? — he asked, with a lump on his throat.

All the prince did was shake his head, embracing his uncle tighter.

— Is that what you want, to give up?

Iroh insisted, trying to bring his nephew back to his senses.

— No... — he whispered with his face buried in his uncle's chest.

— You wanna find the Avatar and go back home, isn’t it?! — but Zuko just kept sobbing. — ISN’T IT?

— Yes.

— SAY IT! — the old man shouted, feeling his warm tears mix with the rain. — What do you want?

— I want to capture the Avatar and go home! It’s all I want.

— Then you do want to live. Do you feel that inside you? Do you feel that desire burning in your chest? — he held Zuko by his shoulders, forcing the boy to face him.

The prince nodded, trembling and crying under the heavy rain.

— Yes. Please, forgive me. Please. — he whispered.

Iroh held him in his arms once again. Relieve filled his lungs and he started calm down. He felt Zuko's breath easing as well.

— Of course I forgive you. I’m always gonna be here with you, Zuko. I’ll never give up on you.

*~*~*~*

The next morning Zuko opened his eyes and regretted it just as quickly. His head felt like cracked in half and his stomach was circling his spine for sure. His mouth tasted like vomit and alcohol, and it made him feel like throwing up – again, it seemed, although he couldn’t remember it happening the first time. Surprisingly, he turned his head to find a strategically placed bucket on the floor. Thirsty, he drank from the tea cup by his bed in order to induce the puke, and the result was immediate.

— That's right, put it all out.

Uncle Iroh.

— Good morning Prince Zuko. — the man said, approaching the bed.

— Can't get any worse. Is that water? — he noticed the jar on his uncle's hand and wished for it to be water this time.

— Yes. Wait, did you drink my tea?

— Oh, that was yours... — which made a lot more sense.

Zuko tried to adjusted himself to a sitting position, and winced when he felt his bandaged left hand protest.

— You twisted your hand when you fell downstairs on the way here. — Iroh said, handing him a cup of water.

— I know what really happened, uncle. — that much he remembered, along with everything that wasn't details.

— I’m sure you do. But the crew doesn’t. I’ve talked to them, by the way. If you are planning to punish Lieutenant Jee in any way, I just ask you to consider that he…

— I’d rather pretend that last night never happened. Did I say anything about punishment, though? — if he had, he better carry on with his word.

— Not that the crew mentioned or implied.

— I’m never gonna drink again. Not a sip, nothing, ever.

His uncle chuckled, although Zuko had no idea what could be fun about that.

— You will, given time.

— No, I won’t.

— It’s part of our life, Zuko. You toast in events, in important meetings, in celebrations. It’s part of being a Prince and a Fire Lord. You have a lot of those boring, but special, occasions ahead of you, isn’t that right? Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s almost lunch time…

— Almost lunch?! — that explained why he was starving. — Uncle. Thanks. — “for not giving up on me”, he thought, but immediately shoved the implied meaning of those words to the back of his mind and said nothing else.

— Sure, my nephew. — he smiled fondly as he was closing the door. — I’ll be around.

Chapter Text

Zuko had never been outside the Capital except to visit Ember Island. Now he was on his way to Shu Jing Island with uncle Iroh and he couldn’t be more excited. They had left Caldera City on Friday at sunset and spent the night traveling by ship, which, although small, came with the same privileges of the palace. They would sleep in Master Piandao’s house and return on Sunday, and Zuko still couldn’t believe his father even allowed that.

— Shu Jing is an island of a single village. — his uncle told him when he couldn’t keep his curiosity in check. — Everything else is land, too poor for cropping. Everybody plants their own vegetables at home and fish in the sea. Only during the short period of spring, flowers bloom on the fields and the villagers use them to produce perfumes, incenses and other products which they sell to other islands.

Overall, it seemed like a boring place. Nevertheless, Zuko got himself picturing the landscape of spring. In the Capital, the season was much cooler then summer, but not many flowers appeared on the sandy shore or the volcano ground. Not even the hilly path in between gained a new face, since most of the plants were crowned by small, pale flowers. Only the Royal Garden stood pompous and even more ornate than usual, and it was said that in the times of Sozin’s reign, he’d brought exotic plants to compose the garden for that very effect. Zuko was now willing to bet that at least one had come from Shu Jing.

Once they arrived, uncle Iroh convinced his nephew to dismiss the litter ready to carry him a couple of miles from the shore to the city. Zuko walked the path imagining the difference that colorful flowers would make in that place. From afar, they already could see the village. It was built following jagged lines of the mountainous relief, where every single house looked the same with its stone foundations and red rooftops, giving a feeling that everybody there lived the exact same life. On the pointy edge of a hill, away from the rest of the town, Zuko saw an elegant structure that resembled a castle. His eyes widened at the sight of Master Piandao’s house.

— Would you like to take a walk in the town, Prince Zuko? I’m sure the villagers would be honored with a visit by the Fire Prince. — the old man invited.

— Of course not, there is our destination! — he pointed, curious about what he would find in that place. — We’ll have time later, now the Master is waiting for us.

Without a word, the old man followed the youngster who hurried his way until standing in front of the gigantic doors of the castle.

— Remember, Zuko, my friend is not an easy man to impress. He praises humility.

The boy simply nodded, repeating in his mind the words he meant to say to the swordsman.

The two of them were welcomed by a servant who guided them inside. The main hallway led straight to the Master’s meeting room, but Zuko took his time admiring the walls which displayed ancient paintings of battles, martial arts movements and some weapons he couldn’t even begin to guess the uses. The thought came to him that he would have to choose one for himself soon and he knew nothing about any of them.

Before he realized, the servant opened the door and announced their arrival. Zuko expected his uncle to greet his old friend, but instead, the man placed himself quietly beside the door after he got in.

— Inform the Master the reason of your visit. – the servant asked, and Zuko saw the figure in dark red robes kneeling in front of a table, facing the view outside but not his visitors. That was an extremely rude way to treat royalty, but Zuko chose not to touch the subject and simply kneel in the middle of the room.

— I’m Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation. My uncle says you’re the best swordsman in the world and that you have defeated a hundred men alone. He said I could learn a lot from you, because you would make the most of my potential. I have great interest in your expertise, Master Piandao. Please accept me as your student.

— Why do you think you’re worthy of the art of the sword, Zuko?

— I’m determined and hardworking. — he prompted. — I’ve been practicing with a dagger, and I just can’t let go of it ever since I got it from uncle. Would you like to see what I can do? It isn’t much but…

— I’m not interested in your abilities, Zuko.

— I am interested in yours, sir. — the boy raised his head and found that the master still showed no sign that he was even curious to take a look at the prince. — I would be glad to pay whatever amount for your service.

— I do not charge. I’m sure your uncle mentioned that part to you.

— Then what? — Zuko lost his patience. — Why would you make us come all the way here if you won’t accept me? I'm a prince, you should be honored to have me here!

— Prince Zuko. — uncle Iroh cautioned him from the back of the room, but Zuko was done with that game.

— I am not interested because I do not see why you are here. You’re already a firebender from a powerful family.

— What does that matter? I want to, isn’t that enough?

— Swordsmanship is hard work and I wouldn’t make it easier because of your firebending training. It seems too much for a twelve year-old.

The man’s indifference was getting to his nerves, but he didn’t come all the way there to lower his head at the first difficulty.

— I can do both! — he shot back with confidence.

— It’s a long trip all the way here and I won’t be the one to go to the Capital.

— Uncle is willing to bring me every weekend.

— I don’t understand why all the effort.

— Because I know I can be good at it! — he shouted, and in a whisper, added — If nothing else.

It was really that, wasn’t it? He felt a connection to blades that he couldn’t reach with firebending. He took too long to discover his bending and the lessons had always felt… wrong. As if he couldn’t fuel his fire even when he followed all the steps. As if he was never meant to be a bender, as much as he loved everything about his power. Now a part of him screamed that he had a place in swordsmanship but he was being denied that.

— I do not train royalty.

— Never mind. — Zuko got up irritated. — What a waste of time.

— If you want to train under me, Zuko — the master spoke again, stopping him on his tracks —, you must forget your title and become nothing but an apprentice to your master. Do you understand that?

Zuko frowned, completely taken aback. Was the man saying he would give him a chance? Speechless, the boy realized there was a question hanging in the air and quickly collected his words.

— Yes, Master Piandao. — the prince gave a side look filled with questions and surprise to his uncle, who was still standing by the door and did nothing but smile at him.

— You must be humbly open to your master’s teachings. — the swordsman spoke while writing down something Zuko couldn’t see. — Do you accept that?

— I accept it, Master Piandao. — his heart was beating faster in excitement now.

Finally, the man turned around and looked the boy in the eyes. He had dark skin and a stern face, and looked younger than uncle Iroh.

— I, thus, accept you as my apprentice, Zuko. — the master placed a sword with both hands in front of him.

Zuko bowed to him as a student reverences a teacher.

— I’m honored to learn from you, sir.

— You can go now, and you’ll be taken to your room. This… — he took the parchment on the table and handed to they boy. — is my acceptance letter, which you can give the Fire Lord.

— Thank you, sir. — he could no longer contain the huge smile in his face. — Excuse me.

The boy left the old men alone in the room.

— It was very kind of you to accept him, my friend. Prince Zuko needs someone who believes in him. His strength lies in a different place than what is now required of him.

— What a proud kid, though. — Piandao replied, annoyed.

— It runs in the family. — Iroh served himself some tea from the round table prepared for them. — But I believe his pride keeps him from getting hurt by the ones he loves. Hmm, jasmine.

— Do you think he’ll do as I asked of him?

— Of course not. — Iroh grinned. — Not at first, at least.

— It’s not my place to teach your nephew manners, Iroh.

— I would never ask you to. — the firebender took a delighted sip of his tea. — You’re a wise man, Piandao. I trust your approach.

Chapter Text

It was early morning when they arrived at the store. On their way, Piandao had talked to his pupil about the interest tourists showed in the place, and how often Fire Nation citizens went to the island in search for collectibles or to order weapons for themselves. None of that, not even the size of the store in comparison to the other houses, had prepared Zuko for what he would find there. As soon as he crossed the door, Zuko wondered how such dull and uninviting town could host what seemed like the coolest weaponry shop in the world. Not that he had visited many others in the past, but he couldn’t imagine any place as complex or complete than that sea of blades.

Master Piandao told him to wait while he talked to the shop owner, so Zuko took a walk on the hallways. He wouldn’t call the place tidy, but everything was organized to leave enough space for a person to handle the weapons. Wooden weaponry could be found on the left side of the store, while metal equipment was on the right, and aisles separated spears of various shapes and sizes from archery and swords from shields.

Despite his curiosity, the prince decided not to touch anything without his master’s permission, as he was sure he would have a chance to during the lesson. Instead, he observed the vibrant folding screens adorned in images of dragons and battles, the absurd armors Zuko could only guess were collectible instead of actual war gear, and the displays of swords on the walls. There were also racks with kunais, stilletos and shurikens. He didn’t know a lot about those, only that Mai had been practicing with throwing stars, so he decided to buy her a set before he left.

The boy was immersed on examining every item on the shelf, from their colors to the various shapes, when he heard his master’s voice.

— There you are. — the man carried a sheathed knife on his hand, Zuko noticed. — Having fun with the shuriken?

— They remind me of a friend. More like Azula’s friend, actually. She’s learning to throw knives, like this one, and I thought I could bring her a gift. I was thinking maybe a collectible set would be a better choice for a gift, since I don’t know which knives would be an ideal for her to use.

— You are correct, Zuko. I will be glad to help you before we leave, however, it is time we start our lessons. — the tone in his voice invited Zuko to step closer to him.

— Definitely, this place is huge, isn’t it? We must have so much to explore today! — the boy replied in a much higher energy than the collected figure of Piandao.

— One step at a time, Zuko. — the man replied and his judgmental gaze was all it took Zuko to erect his posture and place both hands behind his back.

— Of course, sir, I’m ready.

— Today, we are going to talk about swords. You may be excited to start your practical lessons, however, I am a firm believer that theory is just as important. Swordsmanship is an art, and it should be treated as such. More than fighting, I will prepare you to handle a blade, to comprehend it, to make one. You will take home some scrolls to learn more about blades over the week. That will help you choose the weapon you want to work with in our future trainings.

— Yes, Master Piandao.

— Since your interest in blades started with your pearl dagger, today I’ve prepared a lesson about short blade swords. — he held the exemplar on the palm of his hand in front of him. — Here, we have a tanto sword. It is composed by a blade, used to attack, and a tsuka, used to hold it. The tskuka is designed to be handled by one hand, unlike some long blade swords such as the katana. Sometimes, you can also find a tsuba — the man indicated the ring diving both parts. —, which protects your hand from slipping over the blade during an attack. I would like you to examine this blade. Be careful.

The man handed him the sword. Zuko studied the tsuka first. The braided work left diamond-shaped spaces on the center where he found encrusted metal pegs. His eyes followed up to the small tsuba ornate in golden and black, then the straight blade with a curved tip. There was no doubt he had a fine object in his hands, a product of detailed and sturdy swordsmithing.

— Now, describe what you have perceived. — the Master asked once Zuko returned his attention to him.

— The blade isn’t flexible, and doesn’t seem very sharp along its length. The tip, however, seems deadly. So… I think it is made for piercing, not a weapon for slicing, maybe?

— Speak with confidence, Zuko. Swordsmanship faster than firebending, your enemy is closer, each exchange of moves may last less than a second. Are you sure of your observations?

— Yes, master. The tanto sword is used to stab the opponent.

— Correct. The tanto is resistant to hard materials and powerful in its attack. Follow the contour of the blade. Those are the bevels. Unlike the bevels forming the pointy edge, the inner and the outer bevel are harder to sharp, although they can cause damage.

Piandao took the sword in his hands again and sheathed the object. He asked Zuko to follow him as he started walking out of the aisle to the main hall.

— I’m taking you to see a few more tanto. You see how the one I just showed you is similar to your own dagger, especially the blade. Now we will see different models…

— Master? — Zuko stopped on the way once he found himself distracted by a pair of crossed swords that had silvery handles and slightly curved blades, which expanded to the top until they formed a prominent point.

— Yes?

— What about those? — the prince pointed at the wall without taking his fascinated eyes from the glass dome.

— Those are dao swords. The dao can be found as single sword, or in this case, as dual swords. I call them twin dao. Also, concentration is fundamental and you should start practicing it, Zuko. I would like you to listen while I talk, that is, if you are interested in my teachings.

— Of course I am, sir. My apologies. — the boy glanced at the weapons one last time, mapping as many details as he could before he bowed his head to the master. — May I just ask you, master, do you plan to teach me about them?

— Next week we will continue our lecture. I want you to be familiar with various kinds of swords before you choose one to work with. For now, are you ready to continue?

The boy nodded in respect to his master’s decisions, however, he would not be able to wait a full weak. The twin dao were calling for him and he had to find out more about them.