Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“It’s an accident.”

Although, all things considered, it could not be an accident.

The infamous scarred eye of Prince Zuko had widened and pulled his damaged face into a terrifying tableau.

“It was an accident,” he repeated.

The crew was groggy on deck. They had been knocked out by the sudden push of the ship, propelling it several metres ahead, and breaking some ice on the way. What accident could possibly be that of the Prince? A horrid understanding settled on the dozen of people under his command, amongst them and first to make the connection, his Uncle.

“Accidents happen,” he said. “It’s alright. Everyone, why don’t you check if the ship isn’t damaged and then have yourselves a nice cup of tea?”

The deck was clear under a minute, leaving both startled ex-royal members of the Fire nation on their own.

“There’s no time for a cup of tea!” protested Zuko. “The Avatar must be around here! It’s the last place we haven’t gone through.”

“Oh I’m sure they’re here. Can’t see where else.”

“Then why would you send the crew away, Uncle! We don’t have the luxury to let them get away.”

“Zuko, you bended air just now.”

“No, it’s a storm coming.”

Uncle Iroh looked up to the clear blue sky. “Possibly,” he said. “Or you bended air. You’re both a firebender and an airbender. And breaking news, only the Avatar can do that.”

Zuko raised an enflamed fist to his Uncle’s nose, “Do I look like a freak to you?”

Uncle Iroh elected not to answer.

“The Avatar must be an air nomad, it’s their turn in the cycle!” continued Zuko.

“The air nomads are all dead, Zuko. It’s been a century.”

“Okay then, a water tribe member! There’s one around here, isn’t there?”

“It’s small and peaceful. We’d have heard if someone as massive as the Avatar had been–”

Uncle Iroh was cut off by a loud noise. On the horizon, not too far from their location, a cloud of snow had rapidly risen.

“There’s the water tribe. Not so calm now, is it? It can’t hurt checking it out,” said Zuko.

“Don’t be reckless, my nephew. These people have suffered a great loss during the Fire nation’s expansion, as did all the nations. Many people died over a long period of time. Hey, why don’t you move that ice block over there?”

“Ugh!” Prince Zuko screamed, melting the ice. “Stop! Get the crew back to work. I don’t have time for your theories. My honour is at stake. I want to be able to go back home.”

He shut the door behind him, and a burst of wind threw Uncle Iroh off-balance again.

“Sure, my nephew. Sure.”

Chapter Text

There was nothing of interest in the water tribe, except for the oldest of their boys who tried to pick a fight with him, and his sister who knocked him unconscious. At least, that girl knew to read a situation.

The tribe was small, and curiously devoid of any adults despite the elderly. Zuko tested them, one after the other. Since the Avatar was over a century old, this group looked the part. Their choice of living in a most inhospitable place was odd too. Zuko’s brain worked through it, as he burned flesh and cut breaths short.

Young and old, living together in a small community, on a far land of ice. Away from the world. Away from the Fire Nation. Away from sight. Since the Avatar had not been seen for so long, the water tribe met all the hints. Which place would be more convenient for him to hide?

Zuko released the old woman in his grasp and stepped away as she hit the ground of her cell and spit blood. His crew carried her off the ship.

So far, he had not found a clue however. Either the Avatar wasn’t among them to begin with, or they were good, dedicated actors. In which case, the bender of all elements must have something to use against them.

Zuko was about to push them to their upmost limits. He had to. He was out of options. What would happen if he never found him? He could never go back home, claim his seat as Prince Heir, and earn the respect of his father again. If he ever had it at all.

Zuko let himself drop on his mattress, but a kock on his door brought him back to his senses.

“I brought tea,” said the voice of his uncle.

The young man grunted a loud, “Come in!”, and stood to welcome him. At least, he had the old man. The only piece of ass that hadn’t turned his back on him in his sixteen years of life. Yet.

“Some Jasmine will do you good,” Iroh said. He poured the cups, and blew patiently on them. That was the part Zuko hated most about drinking tea. Waiting forever for it to cool down. While his uncle liked to blow on the drink, Zuko opted for stirring. He took the cup away and placed it delicately in front of him. The infused water twirled and steamed. Uncle Iroh was loud with his breathing today, and Zuko knew him enough to know he was being tested. Unfortunately for his uncle, he had run out of patience.

“Can you quit it?”

“Quit what?” Zuko gestured in his general direction. “I see,” Uncle Iroh leaned back. “Does my bending of air bother you?”

“I thought you wanted to relax.”

“I do, I do.”

Silence fell. The night had settled in, and Zuko could hear his crew prepare the ship for the dark hours. He found it comforting, in a way. Especially after this disappointing day. The pitching and rolling of his temporary home was familiar now, almost cradling.  

“Have you found anything?” Iroh asked.

“They’re tight-lipped. They’ve heard of the Avatar, but barely.”

Zuko downed his tea. It was screeching hot, but he manoeuvred the heat resistance of his body to take it. A nice trick he had learnt to cut conversations with Iroh short when needed.

His uncle took notice, drank his own beverage, and left him alone. To reflect on how big of a failure Zuko was. He pondered about it, and turned in his bed a few times. Until, exhausted, the young man fell asleep.

***

The door in his dreams creaked, but it wasn’t supposed to. When he slept, Zuko was not on the boat, he wasn’t traveling the world in quest of a ghost. He was home. Silk sheets, large mattresses, pure sunlight and the cackling of turtleducks coming up from the garden’s pond.

But the door creaked. Zuko’s heart skipped a beat and his eyelids flew open. In reflex his arms breathed with fire, lighting up the room. He barely had time to register the body hitting against him, pinning him on the mattress. The flames went out and dark engulfed him again.

“I’m going to kill you!” a guttural voice rose from the body.

Zuko did not fight back. He simply wondered why his father would bother sending an assassin all the way to the end of the world. He could have done so in more convenient places for him. It would have cost him less.

It didn’t make sense. The tool against his throat didn’t make sense either. It wasn’t one he recognised, nor from the Fire Nation, nor from the Earth Kingdom. The Air Nomads had been extinct, and the Water Tribe… It was Water Tribe. It was also yet to draw any blood.

For all it mattered, this assassin was shit. Zuko would have had time to die three times.

“Why aren’t you trying to survive,” the voice said again, flat.

“You will not kill me,” he answered in the same tone.

Zuko let his fingers alight again, and the rest of his response died on the tip of his lips.

The sister from that morning.