Chapter Text
Oh, man, oh, shit, oh, man, oh, shit, oh, man, oh, shit, oh, man-
Zuko’s mind didn’t seem to want to form any other words than what it was currently running on repeat.
Because, of course, the two war prisoners at the Boiling Rock were important people! It wouldn’t make sense for them not to be. It was the Boiling Rock , for spirits’ sake!
But, still, for one of them to be the leader of the warriors of what he was sure from a lesson he could barely recall from a few years ago was supposed to be a neutral party, not to mention the fact that said warriors and little island-nation-thing was named after a past Avatar wasn’t the best luck. The fact that he was now noticing that her shoulder wasn’t quite right and her right arm had a spot with a burn that hadn’t healed correctly didn’t help things either.
Then there was the man, who was the chief , the leader , if you would, of one-half of one of the two nations that his country had been at war with for the past century. That was just his luck, wasn’t it? Two people who probably hated Zuko just for what he represented . Not that many people liked what he represented, he added bitterly in his head. Then, like with the girl, the chief had a few unhealed injuries as well. A burn here and there, and two fingers that didn’t look like they could move properly.
“Hey, Fire Lord, snap out of it!”
Zuko blinked, and his gaze flicked from the girl ( Suki , he reminded himself) to the man ( Chief Hakoda ), and suddenly the blue beads made even more sense. Actually, it was a shocker that the chief had been allowed to keep those in his hair while he was imprisoned. He would have thought those would have been swiftly taken from him.
“Sorry, sorry,” Zuko said, shaking his head a bit. He hadn’t even said too much yet (much less than he was sure he would have to, he probably owed them a lot of explanations), but his throat was already aching, and his voice sounded raspier than usual. “I… I got, er, caught up in my thoughts, there, I guess.”
Suki raised an eyebrow and shifted a bit, straightening up just a small bit in her chair. “I could tell.” Chief Hakoda stayed attentive in his chair, his arms crossed and his shockingly ocean-blue eyes trying to stare holes into Zuko’s skull if the intensity of his gaze was anything to go by.
Zuko moved his gaze away and fiddled with his fingers below the table. He hoped that they couldn’t see. He had been squirmy before, but now that he knew who these people were, now that he knew that these people were really pretty damn important , he felt like he wanted to do nothing more than run (or, er, wheel ) out of the room.
He wondered, vaguely, why his nerves were getting the better of him now when they hadn’t at the council meeting earlier. He supposed that it was because of the circumstances. During the meeting, he had, technically, held the power. He was the one in charge. He could have, if he so chose to, banished all of those council members, ruined their lives (but that would come back to bite him in the butt if he did, he was sure). Still, he was the council’s ruler, and they had to listen to him, at least a bit.
With Mai and Ty Lee, though, he was reminded of Before, when life was peaceful (or at least seemed that way), and he had been unprepared, and so desperate for them to like him, that he had stumbled over his words.
Zuko was finally processing everything that had happened to him in the last day, too, and it was a lot .
He, silently, cursed his father once more. He felt this way (and might always feel this way) because of his father . He hated that man . The image of his father appeared in his mind and he forced it away as quickly as he could.
Everything was just so much , though, as he thought about it. It all was catching up to him as he sat in his wheelchair across from these two war prisoners.
He knew that if he thought about it too much, he would break down. That couldn’t happen. He blinked away the stinging feeling in his eyes and his gaze flickered over the wood of the table, tracing the lines, distracting his mind.
He kept repeating to himself that he didn’t need to be scared of them. He was more powerful than them. He had done the same thing when he was in the council meeting, and he had managed to get through that. That had been bad.
Here, though, with these people, it was even worse.
Zuko didn’t really have power over them. He couldn’t command them to speak. He had to make a good impression on them, and the fact that right now was when everything was starting to catch up with him wasn’t helping either.
These were the first world leaders he was meeting (he didn’t know if the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors counted, but he was going to tell himself she did, just to be safe), and it was already under horrible circumstances. Circumstances that had him being the Fire Lord and yet looking as if he had just crawled out of a war zone (when, in reality, the war zone was inside of him, a constant struggle with himself), and that had them being prisoners. War prisoners .
Yeah, these weren’t very preferable circumstances at all.
“So, uh, I was wondering if you could, er, tell me about how… how things are? In the world? I don’t know how, uh, how long you’ve been… here … but, I’d like to hear what you have to say. Uh, please?”
Suki raised an eyebrow. She did that a lot, didn’t she? Or maybe she didn’t, except when she was stuck with him.
“Why would you want to know what the world is like right now?” Suki asked though it sounded to Zuko more like a demand than anything. “Wouldn’t you know yourself? You’re the Fire Lord . You and your nation’ve been attacking the world for the past century.”
Zuko’s thoughts flicked to the sheltered life he had led up to when he was thirteen, and then his mind turned to more than three years that he spent locked away in a cell, and he wanted to, for a split-second, scream at her no, he didn’t know, because how could he when he was kept in the palace forever, and then locked below it to the point where now he couldn’t even feel the sun ? But, he didn’t. Instead, he realized that he had been silent for much too long to be normal and started a bit as he nodded shakily. “Yeah, no, of course, I know how the world is, but… but that’s from the Fire Nation’s perspective. And you’re, uh, not from the Fire Nation, so, uh, I wanted to hear your thoughts on the… on the matter.”
Hakoda snorted and Zuko turned to him suddenly, but the man said nothing more. After Zuko had talked about the end of the war, about wanting to change things, the chief hadn’t said a word, and Zuko wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing at this point.
“You want to hear… our side of the war?” Suki sounded shocked, but her face didn’t really show it. Or, maybe it did, and he was just even worse at reading people than he had been in the Before. He wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.
“Yeah,” Zuko nodded, trying to keep his voice strong. It wasn’t strong. More than anything, actually, he just tried to keep it from wavering.
Suki exchanged glances with Hakoda before she turned back to him and her shoulders seemed to relax a bit. Wait, had her shoulders been tense before? He hadn’t been able to tell, if they had been.
“All right,” she said, snapping his out of his wandering thoughts. “All right.” She sounded like she was reassuring herself more than anything. She looked up at him once more, but wasn’t meeting his eyes. That was probably for the best. He didn’t know if eye contact was a good idea right now.
He remained silent as she seemed to gather her thoughts. He suspected it would take a lot out of both of the prisoners ( they’re not prisoners, now, he reminded himself. What should he call them instead?) to tell their stories, just as it had taken a lot out of him to explain his to Pim, and he had been sure that she was a sort of ally to him. These two people were being asked by an enemy to talk about some of the hardest moments in their lives. That would be a lot harder than what he had done, he was sure.
Finally, after what felt like both forever and no time at all, Suki sighed quietly and opened her mouth to speak.
“I’ve only been directly involved in the war for maybe a year,” Suki explained, her voice much softer than he had heard it be when she was talking to him before. Now, though, she seemed much more in her own mind than out of it, which would explain the change in tone. Her eyes, staring off into nothing more than anything, were softer, too. “And I was locked up in here for at least the last… two months.”
Two months? She looked surprisingly good for someone who had been in the Boiling Rock for at least two months. Then, his mind flickered to images of the prisoners that they had passed on the way here, and he remembered how they had all seemed remarkably well-fed, actually, and the thoughts all fell away.
“I’m from the island of Kyoshi, leader of the Kyoshi Warriors.” Zuko nodded. She had said that earlier. “Kyoshi was a neutral party, up until about a year ago, when the Avatar showed up and we found out that he had returned.” She paused. “Even though we weren’t participants of the war, we knew enough about it. We do a lot of trade, and so we got merchants from all over, all of them giving us news about the rest of the world. After the Fire Nation came and burned down our village to try and get to the Avatar, we revoked our neutral status and joined the fight against them. I led the other Kyoshi Warriors to the mainland, where we contributed to the cause in any way we could.”
She seemed almost completely lost in her memories. Zuko was watching her, and his eyes flickered to Hakoda for only a second, before moving back to Suki. The chief hadn’t been looking at Suki at all. His eyes had been firmly glued on Zuko and Zuko alone.
“I ended up crossing paths with the Avatar and his group later on in the Earth Kingdom. I helped them get to Ba Sing Se, and later helped his bison before being captured by the Fire Nation Princess and being brought here.”
Zuko dwelled on her words for a moment before he asked, “You’re friends with the Avatar?”
She nodded, but it almost seemed involuntary, because a moment later, her features hardened, her eyes darkened, and her lips twisted into a scowl. “If you’re only here to get information about the Avatar from me, then you’re wasting your time. I’m not saying a word.”
Zuko froze, processing her words for a moment before he frantically shook his head. “No, no, no, I-I was just surprised. That’s… That’s all. I was surprised.”
She eyed him for a moment before turning her gaze away from him. He suddenly came to realize that she was done talking.
Hesitantly, and a bit unconsciously, his gaze wandered to Hakoda. The man met his eyes and Zuko hastily broke the contact, choosing instead to stare at one of the beads dangling from the chief’s hair.
“I’m not telling you anything, Fire Lord ,” Hakoda said, and his voice was colder than what Zuko imagined the South Pole that he hailed from to be like.
Zuko swallowed, and his throat was dry enough that it hurt, to an extent. He nodded. “Okay. I understand.”
If Hakoda was surprised by his response, it didn’t show. Or, maybe it did, and Zuko was really bad at reading people. Which he probably was.
“I… I’ll be right back.”
Zuko wheeled himself backward toward the door and tapped a few times. The door opened and Keeli rounded his wheelchair and pulled him out of the room, leaving the two prisoners behind.
When he was in the hallway and the door was safely closed, Zuko let out a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding.
“That was awful ,” Zuko breathed. He was very aware of the attention of his little group of staff was very much solely on him, but he was too distracted to care. “Like, really bad .”
“What… What happened, my Lord?” Keeli prompted from her position behind him, her voice drifting from over his shoulder.
“The girl is personal friends with the Avatar and his group.” There was a look exchanged amongst those gathered around him, but he couldn’t tell what it was about.
“And… the man?” Lee asked tentatively. “I mean… surely he’s someone important too, right?” He looked around desperately at his companions. Tyne gave Lee a smile and a small nod, and he seemed to settle almost immediately. Zuko was confused for less than a second before a managed to remember that Tyne was Lee’s sister . Of course, her reassurance would calm him down.
Zuko’s mind snapped back to the task at hand. The man, they wanted to know who Hakoda was.
“He’s… Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe.”
If any of them had been drinking water, they probably would have all just spat it out simultaneously. The reactions were varied: some confused, some nervous, some a weird mixture of the two.
“ Chief of one of the Water Tribes? A war prisoner?” Tyne asked, her voice breathy. “Are you serious? ”
Zuko nodded, and Anzo did too.
“The Southern Water Tribe is much weaker than it used to be,” Anzo explained. “Fire Nation raids wiped out all of their waterbenders, and they’ve been reduced to next-to-nothing, especially when compared to their northern counterpart.”
Zuko’s eyes widened. “Wait, wait, wait, we stole all of their waterbenders?”
Anzo nodded.
“Well… where are they? We can get them out, let them go, we can-”
“Your grace,” Anzo said, gently interjecting, but Zuko couldn’t care less either way. “Your grace, the last waterbender was captured years ago, and all of them have surely perished by now. The waterbender prisons have been all but abandoned for what has to be decades, now.”
Zuko felt something sink inside of him. His nation, his people, his family had wiped out an entire branch of benders. All of the waterbenders of one of the two centrals for waterbending. Gone. Zuko had never even seen a waterbender. He couldn’t imagine going somewhere where there were supposed to be as many waterbenders as there were firebenders here at home, yet not finding any.
“What would you like us to do about the prisoners?”
“We’re taking them with us,” Zuko said.
Once more, glances were exchanged that he didn’t understand. Finally, Tyne managed to ask, “Why?”
He furrowed his eyebrows and remembered the few burns that dotted the prisoners’ skin, the way Suki’s shoulder hadn’t looked right, or how Hakoda had two fingers that were pointed in directions fingers shouldn’t be able to point in.
“They’re hurt. Burns, things that didn’t heal right. They’re not gonna get good medical attention if we just let them go , and…” He tried to think of a way to make this sound more like a logical choice than something based solely on the fact that he wanted them to feel better. “And… if we deliver them to the rest of the world healthy , then it can help! You know, like, make the world think maybe we’re not so bad?” He sounded more and more unsure the more he went on.
But, nonetheless, his group nodded.
The door opened and Keeli quickly pushed him back inside before bowing and leaving again.
“Uh… hi… again…”
This was awkward. How do you tell two war prisoners that you were going to help them get better without sounding like you’re trying too hard?
“Hi,” Suki said, and even if the word was completely bitter, it gave him enough reassurance to keep going.
“So, uh, I’m gonna, er, take you. Back to the capital, er, the palace, I mean. Cause… Cause we’re the closest place with good healers and… and you look… like you’ve seen better days. So, uh, yeah. We’re gonna go back to the capital and then… then we’re gonna get a healer or something. Yeah.” That couldn’t have gone any worse.
Suki crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “What happens then?”
He blinked. “What?”
Hakoda picked up for her. “What happens after we’re all ‘healed’? What do you do with us then?”
“Oh, uh…” He hadn’t thought that far in advance. “Well, I guess…” It wasn’t that hard to figure out what he would do, though. “I guess I’ll… I’ll let you go. It’s probably been a while since you’ve been home, anyway.” Zuko tried not to wince at his own words. He knew what it felt like to not be home for years, to not feel safe for years.
It was clear, even to him, that they didn’t believe him, but they seemed to choose not to argue. Zuko moved back a bit and rapped his knuckles against the door a few times. The door opened and Keeli stepped inside. Lee and Tyne followed her, moving across to stand by the two prisoners. Tyne unlocked Suki from her handcuffs (how had Zuko not noticed those before?) and Lee did the same for Hakoda. The two didn’t dare fight as the guards brought them to their feet and guided them with a hand on the small of their backs. Zuko knew it was only because they wanted to try and get closer to freedom, but it still made him slightly glad to see them cooperating a bit with him.
Keeli wheeled him out of the room, Tyne and Lee guiding Suki and Hakoda respectively behind them. Anzo inserted himself behind Zuko and Keeli, forming a sort of border between the prisoners and him.
As they moved through the prison, Anzo directed them from behind Zuko and Keeli until they were in front of the warden’s office.
“Anzo,” Zuko said, and the guard took a step forward to be in Zuko’s line of view.
“Yes, my Lord?”
“Could you go inside and get whatever… paperwork I need to, like, officially… transfer them?” He didn’t know if ‘transfer’ was the right word, but he also didn’t particularly care.
Anzo gave a nod followed by a bow before he disappeared into the office.
Zuko fingered the crown he still hadn’t put back in his hair. “Keeli?”
“Your grace?”
“Could you please…?” He didn’t put effort into forming the words, instead just weakly raising up the crown. Keeli blinked before nodding and taking a step around to the side of the wheelchair. She plucked the crown from his grasp and his hand fell back to his side as Keeli re-tied his hair before she slid the crown onto the simple topknot and stepped back again.
“Thank you,” he said a moment later.
A beat passed before Keeli replied, “You’re welcome, my Lord.”
Anzo stepped out a few moments later. Zuko nodded to him and they got back into their original order. Anzo directed them out of the prison, and they weren’t stopped until they made it to the gondola.
“We look forward to your return, your Majesty,” the warden said, giving a bow so low that Zuko wondered how he didn’t stumble forward. The guards behind the man gave bows as well, though not as low as the warden’s. Zuko nodded to all of them at once as they rose. The warden looked like he wanted to say more, but his eyes flickered behind Zuko and his throat bobbed as he seemed to think better of it. The guards parted and one pulled the gondola door open. Their strange group loaded into the gondola and the door slid shut a moment later.
The gondola felt just as dreary and cold as it had when they had made their way over. The sun was glaring through the steam that was rising up from below. The late afternoon was switching to evening, and the sun was burning brightly in the distance. The steam was too thick, and the gondola too chilled, for Zuko to be able to feel the sun’s heat on his skin, but just seeing it, poking through the billowing white vapor, made him feel a bit better inside.
They finally made it across the boiling lake and moved down the cliffside, the airship finally in view. The guards standing at the entrance bowed to him and stepped to the side. It seemed like all Zuko had to do was blink before they were inside the hallways of the airship once more, pipelines and valves lining the walls and ceiling before they moved up another floor and those things were all covered from view.
They finally made their way to the bridge.
“My Lord,” the captain said, bowing to Zuko as he entered, an action that was quickly copied by the rest of the crew in the room. “Back to the capital?”
Zuko nodded. “Yes, please, Captain.” The man bowed once more before turning around and giving orders to his crew. Keeli pushed him out and they moved toward the office that he had been using earlier. However, instead of going inside the room, they passed right by it and entered into the next one. This one had a window as well, which was nice, and seemed to be a bit bigger. It was designed to be a sitting room instead of a study. There were two figures sitting on one of the couches. He blinked, and realized that it was Mai and Ty Lee. Pim was standing a few feet away from them, and she bowed as soon as he entered.
“Mai,” Zuko said, his voice a bit choked. He hadn’t really thought about how nice it was to have familiar friendly faces from the Before. “Ty Lee.” He took in their new outfits, much more traditional casual Fire Nation clothing than the prison uniforms they had been in earlier. “You guys look… good.”
Ty Lee grinned widely. “I know, right! These clothes are so comfy! ”
Mai’s lips quirked up a bit for a split-second before her eyes wandered to behind Zuko and narrowed. Ty Lee seemed to follow Mai’s gaze, but her eyes widened instead of narrowing. Both of the girls were on their feet in seconds.
“What are you doing here?” Mai asked, and Zuko turned his head to see that she was addressing Suki, whose face was hard and eyes were slits as well.
“ Me? What are you two doing here?”
“Why we’re here is none of your business,” Mai responded, yet it almost sounded like a growl.
“And why isn’t it? You were the ones who locked me in that prison, anyway,” Suki said. Zuko’s gaze flickered back-and-forth between the two of them, his eyes widening a bit. Mai and Ty Lee had been the ones to lock the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors in the Boiling Rock?
Ty Lee gasped. “ We didn’t lock you in there! Azula did! We just helped capture you!”
Mai scowled and nudged Ty Lee in the side. “ Not helping ,” she hissed, before turning back to Suki again, her eyes cold. “Azula commanded that we help her, and we couldn’t exactly say no to her. She had us locked in the Boiling Rock, too. Zuko just got us out. So… shut up.” If anyone else had said it, the ending would have sounded awkward or something, but it was very graceful and powerful coming from Mai. Then again, everything was.
Suki scowled and opened her mouth.
Zuko actually tuned out their argument after that. He didn’t want to have to listen to them bicker, especially as whenever he did listen, it seemed like their insults were just getting more and more petty.
Suki and Hakoda had both stepped farther into the room, and Zuko found himself with a wandering gaze and a wandering mind.
Zuko’s eyes met the chief’s for a moment and he felt himself freeze. His gaze quickly moved away, so fast that he wondered, vaguely, if it was involuntary. A skill ground into him after years. He knew that he shouldn’t be scared of them, he held all the cards here, he shouldn’t be scared , he had all of the power here .
Except, he didn’t, did he?
No, he didn’t.
Because, now, these people weren’t war prisoners , they were important world leaders, in one way or another, and they were here in his nation, the nation that they had been fighting against for years, and he had to make a good impression. He couldn’t just threaten them into submission (he didn’t think he’d be able to, anyway. They seemed strong, they had to be strong, and he… wasn’t).
He had to be smart, he had to play his cards right , and he noted that what he was trying to do had never been something he was good at. Azula was the people-person of the family. Azula was the one who could read people, the one who could manipulate people, the one who could get people to do whatever she wanted.
Zuko was the one who couldn’t firebend correctly. He was the one who couldn’t talk to people right, the one who stumbled over words and apologized too often. He was the mama’s boy, the one who wouldn’t ( couldn’t ) look at his father in the eye. He was the one who moved too slow, who talked too fast, who couldn’t think quick enough, who couldn’t remember to not speak his mind. He was the one who never understood what was going on. He was the one who tried too much and failed too often. He was the one who walked through the gardens and fed turtleducks instead of lighting trees in flames. He was the one who got a dagger he didn’t know how to use.
He was the one who loved a sister who wanted nothing more than to see how long it would take him to put out the fire she lit on the sleeves of his clothes today.
Zuko felt his breathing pick up a bit. His eyes were open, but he wasn’t really seeing anything, more just thoughts flashing forward in his mind than anything.
He was the one who loved a cousin who was older than him, who was wiser than him, and who died before him by many too many years.
He was the one who loved an uncle who was so torn by the loss of one that he’d abandoned another.
He was the one who loved a mother who sacrificed everything to save him once, but who disappeared too quickly to be able to save him again.
He was the one who loved a father who looked down at the sparks that flew from his palm with such fury that it scared him.
He was the one who loved the cousin who left, who loved the uncle who left, who loved the mother who left .
He was the one who loved a father who didn’t leave, who stayed , and who stayed much too long .
He was the one who loved a father who didn’t feel any shame at all as he burned his son’s face.
He was the one who loved a father who thought that it was justified to throw a thirteen-year-old boy into a cell for three years beneath the very place he was raised.
He was the one who loved a father who put him somewhere where the only light he would get, the only warmth he would get, was searing and white-hot against his skin.
He was the one who had, in another life, loved a father who had never known what it was like to love.
His eyes burned for some reason. Then, a moment later, his eyes were wet and tears were spilling over his cheeks. Someone was speaking his name, btu he couldn’t tell who it was. He wasn’t really hearing them, wasn’t really registering the hands that were touching his shoulder. One of them pressed too hard on a spot that had never healed right and he flinched.
He was the one who had spoken out once and regretted ever since that moment. He was the one who had sunk to his knees and begged, begged to be spared by the one person who should have never put him in danger in the first place. He was the one who had been burned, who had been beaten, and starved, and who had still managed to realize that he still felt the same about the words he had said at that meeting as he had when he had said them.
He was the one who had spoken his mind and suffered for it.
He was the disappointment .
Zuko wasn’t in the room with the foreign leaders anymore. They were in the study.
He didn’t care, because he was barely able to process the fact anyway.
He couldn’t think.
He couldn’t do.
He was the disappointment-
He was the disappointment-
He was the disappointment .
He had always been the disappointment.